Today I spent a few hours babysitting my grandson. I loved it more than I ever thought I would. One thing though that struck me hard, how helpless and small he was. Also how willing to trust me and fall peacefully asleep in my arms.
There was many a year that I spent berating my younger self for allowing the abuse to continue and not speaking out. I felt he was broken and I was angry with him, my small younger self.
As I stared into the tiny trusting eyes and the precious little face, it hit me hard and I began to tear up realizing how helpless, small, weak and clueless I was as a child in the middle of such evil. What else could I have done except survive and try to keep things from becoming worse?
I was just a kid, what did I know of such things or the ramifications of such a wounding of the soul. What does a child know of such things? So once again I feel the need to forgive my younger self. We don't know, what we don't know.