There's nothing overly sensational about turning 12 years old. 12 is not particularly a milestone birthday or a special age to celebrate based on American birthday traditions but I decided to celebrate London's 12th birthday with a trip.
In part, due to my recent return to the work force and wanting to take extra time with her, and because of her burning desire for years to go to the American Girl doll store. Moreover, I wanted to take her there before she was too old and would no longer have any desire to play with dolls. I decided I had to seize the moment before it was too late.
I took London, my niece and one of her school friends, down to Atlanta. We did all the things she had hoped to do and then some. We went to Sephora to try on lip gloss and make up. They ate their little hearts out at the Potato Corner and everyday we went and walked the mall.
I even took the girls to celebrate Black History, by going to the National Center for Civil and Human Rights. The girls and I had such a blast during our trip to Atlanta.
On Sunday we headed home. All the girls were sleeping soundly while I drove the long drive back. I was looked over at my girl as she was sleeping in the front seat beside me, my little girl was 12 now.
I have vivid memories of my own 12th year of life. I had not seen or talked to my father in over a year. He was addicted to drugs and our relationship would not be rekindled until I was 25 years old. I had recently moved from NY to NC. Even though my home life was always dysfunctional, it was nothing near to what I experienced after this move. When I look back at the previous two school years that I had spent with my Grandparents, that period of my life was the most stable I can remember. To this day, I realize their stability helped shaped some of my adult decisions.
After the move I began living a very toxic life. I started attending a cult-ish church and during this time I was actively being abused sexually, physically, emotionally and spiritually in my home. There were violent fights, horrible name calling, and sexual perversion that up until this point, I had never experienced.
By the time I was 12, I had already experienced a massive amount of trauma. I was angry, hurt and confused. I was always being accused of having an attitude, being rude, mean and obnoxious. My Mother would have to come to my school because, I had been in fights or was rude to a teacher. I was hated by all the girls, or at least that’s how it felt at that time I was wildly misunderstood. My life had changed drastically. I had to throw away all of my pants and jewelry and began wearing skirts only. I could no longer be in Cheer or Step Team, watch TV, go to the movie theater, bowling alley, or anything deemed “worldly” by this church. These things could seem small but in the grand scheme of things happening it was too much.
I wouldn't be aware of the effects that these sudden and completely unnecessary changes had on me for years.
As I looked at my sleeping baby girl, she's not a baby anymore but to me she'll always be my baby girl, I could not hold it in and I wept, thankful tears. Actually it was more of a sob. So much so that I had to hold it in, as to not wake the girls. Reflecting and seeing my life in full circle was nothing short of miraculous. I remember my 12 year old young girl prayers, my young girl hopes and dreams, my young girl anguish and fears.
People don't understand that if not properly dealt with, childhood trauma shapes their adult decisions.
I was writing recently about the differences between my daughter and myself. She's flighty and she's got this carefree attitude. There's just a lightness in her being. I've been a bit perplexed by our differences for some time now and as I was sobbing in my car that Sunday on the way home, the Lord so clearly spoke to me; She's different from you because she's free! She’s free from all of the trauma that I had suffered.
She’s free from molestation.
She’s free from verbal and physical abuse.
She’s free from religious nonsense.
She has her father and she has security.
She’s free to be 12, not inhibited by the affects of trauma.
Not sidelined by the pain in her life.
Not living in fear of night time and if someone will come to her room or the next home fight or the the barrage of false doctrine and indoctrination.
She’s free to be an immature and moody 12 year old.
She's free to explore her gifts and talents, like her love for singing.
She is free to one day fulfill her hope to be a teacher, because she has nothing holding her back.
She is free to her to dream of having a big family and a husband like her daddy.
Free to use her imagination and her creative mind as she comes up with all sorts of unique ideas for her clothing or her creations.
Free to love fully with that big heart that she has.
For this I give God all the glory and honor for making all these things possible for my baby girl! I'm still amazed at the handy work of God. I'm amazed to see a cycle broken!
I'm so hopeful for her future and will forever be grateful that she escaped the pain that I had at 12.
