Imagine if our 7 year old selves could see us now. I hope she would be proud. I know that she would look up at me in awe and say "you're pretty" because at 7 years old, I didn't think I would ever be.
At a young age I learned to take criticism. Such a shame. At a young age I would wonder 'Am I ugly?'. A thought that no kid at that age should think.
At that age little ones should be hanging upside down on monkey bars, wondering who can hold on the longest. Hear the ice scream truck playing and wonder how far away it was. Get mad when they couldn't color perfectly within the lines. And think that they are inevitable, the greatest, indestructible.
But somewhere along growing up, they lost their carefree ways. Being inevitable turned into vulnerable. Being the greatest turned into being average. Being indestructible turned into bleeding, because all humans bleed. But at a young age, bleeding meant the world was going to cave. The sight of red coming from within my skin had me running, yelling, 'Mommy, Daddy! I'm hurt!!!!"
At a young age we were comfortable to say "mommy" and "daddy" out loud in public places because those terms weren't sexualized to us. We didn't know what sex was. We referred to our privates as "private parts" or "pee pees".
What happened?
