Getting to Know Little Me

I did it. I talked to her. I talked to the little girl. I talked to Little Me.

I was looking at a photo of Little Me at about five years of age. A real cutie, that kid. At first, I just looked at her, studied her, noticing. Then, I began to speak with her. It was awkward at first, uncomfortable. I spoke softly, as one does with a child when things are scary. I told her what I saw – a blonde little girl with bangs, smiling almost unobtrusively, looking happy and unblemished. As I talked, the tears started, but I continued, telling her things I knew about Little Me, like an Aunt speaking of a favorite niece.

I couldn’t tell Little Me I wouldn’t leave her. Big Me didn’t feel confident enough to make a promise like that. I did say I’d try the best I was able. So, for this conversation, we just got to know one another a bit. Of course, I didn’t tell her of adult troubles, but I think she started believing that maybe this was someone who cared.

Take comfort inner child…

You are SAFE

You are VALUABLE

You are LOVED

-Randi G Fine

Warm hugs to all you little ones –