Around mid-July I was listening to the radio, just cruising in my red truck, with my radio blasted on an average day to work. My ears were suddenly perked up by a story I began to listen very intently to on WM-PR. This was the story of a woman whose name was Tanya. In my mind I imagined her as woman who had ruffled, short, Jet-black, and spiky hair. She wore a leather jacket and a crop band tee-shirt along with stone-washed, ripped jeans.It wasn't so much the punk-rocker image as much as the angry glare on her face and the craving for darkness that stuck out to me. As she began to evolve to me I fell deeply into her story, I fell in love with this image that so accurately described me seven years ago; I was tough,and I was hardened. My heart was impenetrable and I loved only as deeply as I could feel; which wasn't much more than a paper cut. I became quiet, dark, angry, fiercely introverted and deep into myself. I understood Tanya, and the pain she felt. Tanya had a rough childhood, she had been abused, unloved,and no one could reach beyond the dark tower that she had built around her heart. For a person who loved words and connecting with people, I became the opposite for many years; a person who could only connect with my demons.
On the radio, this woman Tonya, was talking about a dream that she had; a dream where there was a girl in a yellow, polka-dot, dress. The little girl would be laughing and Tanya described that she had these red, funny, star-shaped glasses, and she was: spunky, silly, sweet, and giggly. In the dream she said that the little girl had winked at her and smiled with a giddy laugh (I'm paraphrasing as best as I can remember). Later on the radio-program they had recorded Tonya's session with a hypnotist, who was trying to bring the girl in the yellow dress back (so to speak). The event was recorded at that time and played on the radio for me to hear. The little girl awoke from Tanya's deep subconscious and spoke to the hypnotist as Tanya was unconscious for the "experiment" (so to speak). The little girl's voice responded (through Tanya), as clearly as a person would on any given day to any given person. I heard a little girls voice speak on the radio, and while I cannot remember the exact words, I had this feeling.... that the little girl was trying to tell Tanya "that everything was going to be okay". Tonya says that she feels like a completely different person now, she laughed (on the radio) as she spoke of how changed she feels. This little girl has become a very real part of Tonya's life and her evolution as a whole person on the beginning of her journey to self-love.
Listening to this story on the radio brought so many feelings of love to the surface, as well as understanding, and even a great deal of my own pain. Quite frankly, I fell in love with Tonya and her story. Not in a romantic way, but in a way where my own heart felt such love and compassion that I couldn't really comprehend at that time. I didn't fall in-love with her because I could relate to her, though; No,not at all. As seven years have passed from my dark days until now, I have learned that the "angry, butch girl, with: black hair,black nails, black baggy clothing, dark hair and eye make-up is no longer there; in-fact, she never was. That girl was a character in a story, a reinvention of a girl to angry to express her emotions, too afraid to show the slightest sense of vulnerability. So why did I feel so closely connected to this woman, this image in my mind? I'm getting to that.
When I was younger, I remember days of fighting with my mother who seemed impossible to please. Some days I would be her pet and she would love me. For instance, she would love me when I was tattling on my siblings or if I sang a pretty song and her friends enjoyed my performance. But days where I was stubborn and days I wasn't all that she wanted me to be, I was a monster. Another thing she hated was when I showed my emotions or my pain, it was somehow a mockery to her. I remember one day I was crying, either one of my brothers had hurt me (most likely) or something had deeply upset me. I cried really hard, so hard I struggled to breath. My cry resembled that of a Whale call, it was bitter and it was longing for comfort. My mother never believed in comfort she believed in "the bible" and she believed in "toughing it up". Her response to my pain was mocking my cry as a child, she did it often, so often that I never cried. To this day I rarely cry in-front of others and when I do I never speak while I cry, in fear that I'll sound foolish or that this voice inside my head will mock me; the sound of her mocking lullaby.
The happy part to this story is this, Tanya and I have learned to love ourselves; the good, the bad and the ugly.Now when I think of myself and my inner child, I think of Tonya and her vision of a little girl with a yellow polka dot dress and red star-shaped glasses. Though, while Tonya's inner child had was spunky, sweet, and made a rocker symbol and stuck her tongue out to the world, my inner child wore overalls and had little pigtails and loved to play in the mud and beat up boys who thought they were stronger then her. My inner child was a daredevil who grinned at people who told her she couldn't do anything and responded "Can I?". She was afraid of no one.
I wish that I could say that I always relate to that image of my happy, fierce, inner-child, but I don't. There are days when that little girl has bruises on her knees and tear stained cheeks, she cries so loud and so violently that the whales cry back. You know what, though? That is perfectly fine with me.You know why? Because I love that little girl, and all I want to do is hold her and comfort her and tell her the world can be cruel, but she is stronger and braver and has so much to give. I encourage every person out there, man or woman, or whoever you identify yourself to be, to do this one thing: "To be bold, be brave, and don't be afraid to be silly, goofy, and embrace that young child who just wants to be free and feel love from you".