Today I was so honest and real. More than I have been in so long. It is not that I was lying, it was more of avoidance. I told my therapist that I am scared and that I do not want her to leave me.
I have always been reluctant to tell people that I do like or even love them. I always feel that I am unlovable and a burden.
Growing up I never had a space of my own and then when I finally sort of got one it was taken away in a house fire. So I guess I sort of have attachment stuff sometimes.
I do think I feel love towards people and from people. I have a real connection with the two boys I nanny for and they are very touchy feely in a positive non-threatening manner. But it scares me.
I do not want to get attached to them but it’s so hard not to, I interact with them more than both of their parents combined. And I do think about what kind of affect I have on them.
When I talk to them, I think about every word so carefully as not to break their sweet innocence. I never tell any child that they are “bad” because frankly what kind of thing could a child do to be labeled as “bad”? Nothing.
Kids are not bad no matter what.
I also cannot stand when adults disrespect children. They are people also and they deserve as much respect as an adult gets regardless of their age.
When the mother I nanny for met my parents the first thing she said was “We love your daughter” and it just makes me terrified. Because I do love being with them too.
I am so jealous that they have a really awesome, loving mom. Something I never had and never will.
Lately it is so hard to refer to the person who gave birth to me as my “mom”. I saw a tissues commercial about trying out different moms and it sounded like an awesome idea. I just want a different person to call mom.