I’m a woman. I’m not a man. I’m a woman, and sometimes just a child. I don’t think like a man. I don’t reason like a man. If I’m hurting just expect the unexpected.
I’m not just a woman, I’m a survivor. I’ve fought throughout my life despite threats and harassment. Yet I’ve run faster than male peers, I’ve outperformed them, I’ve aced tests, I’ve worked longer hours, been willing to perform tasks they thought were beneath them. I deserved the promotions that came my way.
But it wasn’t really me. I was doing it to please my Dad. I don’t think like a conqueror. I am just a child. At heart I am just a child, who was trained to be something I am not. I’m a woman trying to make her way in a world of men or of other women who think they need to fight to get where they want.
I am a woman. I am a woman who often feels like a child. I bruise. It sometimes takes longer than I would hope to heal. I want to heal. I want to. But before I heal I need to sulk. I might need to be stroppy. I might need to get myself back together.
On the exterior I am every bit the feisty fighter, tenacious tigress, sizzling siren, bold beauty – but inside I am a child. Sometimes people make the mistake of treating me like a woman in control, or even worse, they treat me like a man. They overlook the inner child who can’t hear their words, or understand their motive because she is hurting, she is ashamed and sulky. The child needs to weep and wail before she can sit down with you and try to fix this.
Ben dignifies me. He treats me like a woman. He praises me and esteems me for work ethic and performance. He respects me and boasts about my accomplishments professionally. He makes love to me, acting as if I have bewitched him. But Ben knows that beneath the exterior is a child. He knows that sometimes I need a little space for the child within.
Ben came home tonight. I need to spend some time with him to make things alright. You see, the inner child in me gets to a point at which reason and logic are wasted. Ben is good at supplying the reassurance, affection and encouragement that my inner child needs. It’s just another aspect of the love he shows.
Now…the child within needs her sleep or she will be stroppy tomorrow.