At different times in my life there were dark times that haunted me.
One year, a beautifully happy Christmas with all of my daughters, while we were filled with laughter and love, I swear I *saw* a lonely wistful little waif of a girl, standing off in a corner, watching us with yearning tears in her eyes.
Something in my heart broke right then. I recognized those eyes. I see them in the mirror every day. I blinked and she was gone, but I knew where to find her (inside of me, she was) and in my mind I gathered her to me, told her it's all right now, this belongs to you. And there came peace as well as joy to my celebration with my daughters.
After that, not being altogether stupid, I went back inside of myself again and again, finding the younger me at other dark times, doing the same thing.
A whimsical folly, an exercise of imagination, some would maybe call it, but doing it gave me a rare gift - myself - the acknowledgement that it was *ME* who had gotten through all those dark times, the same *ME* who could now reach out to my earlier self with the reassurance that YES it was worth it to fight my way through the dark because, on the other side of the battles, stand peace and joy.
My younger self was strong enough all along, even when it didn't feel like it, to get to the peace and the joy.
Others may judge and condemn me and my younger self, but I will do so no longer. I, my own self, made it through the dark times. There's something empowering about that. Because, come what may, I already know my own strength.
The daughters I give to the world, they have that same strength, multiplied a thousand times over by their own.
