“Mä puran luurangoilta kaapin
Laitan lattian, avaan ikkunan
Sä värein kirkkain seinät maalaat
Mielen vankilan kanssas romutan”
Aki Sirkesalo – Remontti

It’s a blink of an eye when old memories trigger. A moment ago everything was fine but now I’m in distress. I’m back in my childhood, I feel insecure, fear, anxiety. I cry and I’m in panick. I’m alone. Where’s the the adult who would comfort me? Who would tell that there’s nothing to worry about. Where are you?

On the next day we talk through of what happened. I told what happened to me, how I felt. With your behaviour, you tear my wounds open. So that I wouldn’t get hurt again I say to you: next time behave differently. I shift the responsibility of the situation to you though you’re innocent party. You couldn’t know what your behaviour triggered in me. You can blow into my wound, ease the pain. However it’s not your responsibility to heal my wounds.

When my distress was major and the child was looking for someone to comfort and hold in lap, I was looking from there where I couldn’t get it at the moment. The comforter and the lap was there all the time. It’s always there though you would be away.

The adult who could’ve comfort the child, didn’t know how it happens. So it was easier to outsource the situation, in a way run away from the pain. Try to control that it will not happen again. However I can’t control you.

I could try to learn to be a comforter, loving lap for myself. To be a mother and a father to my child. To indicate sympathy, praise and encourage. To remind that I’m important. I’m good enough as I am. I love myself.

When I learn to take responsibility of my own wellbeing, of my wounds, I don’t insist you to make me complete. Because only I know what I need. What are the words and actions that make me bloom .What are the wounds that want to get healed.

Still I hope that you’ll stay by myside. You’re patient and give me time. You blow into my wounds and encourage to go forward. You’ll give me a chance to grow, develop. You’ll give me space to build myself again.

With love, Anu-Maarit