Feeling Daughter’s little arms wrapped tightly around my neck usually makes my heart melt, but not tonight. She held on to me with all her might, gripping my neck for dear life as little sobs racked her body whenever I tried to pull away.
In that moment I saw her as a teenager – or, to be more accurate, I saw me as a teenager. A teenager filled with emotions she didn’t know what to do with or how to control. I was mostly an even tempered teenager, but when those teenage hormones raged, watch out. I believe this was mostly because I didn’t have regular cycles, instead of monthly they were 6 or so months apart. So when those spikes hit my body literally didn’t know how to handle it.
My little girl, crying, sobbing, clinging to me, seemed so unable to process her feelings. And I KNEW how she felt. I stroked her hair, trying to calm her down, while inside I thought about how on earth I was going to teach her how to get a grip on all of this.
It was big, heavy stuff inside my head. When she calmed down and I got up from her bed, I asked her why she was so upset. Her answer? “I wanted an Elmo room, not a Princess room.”