My daughter has just started crawling recently. Now, whenever I leave the room or step outside, she begs to be picked up and carried. My father keeps saying, “Don’t look at her and don’t pick her up, otherwise she’ll get used to it, and later it’ll be difficult for her to break the habit. Leave her on the floor, shell understand.” I didn’t respond; I simply hugged my daughter. That moment, I started seriously wondering if I might be overprotective. I always cuddle her when she cries, shower her with affection, speak kindly to her, and I try never to scold her. Perhaps I love her too much, but honestly, I dont know how else to be. I give my daughter what I never received myself. I dont want her to grow up as odd as I sometimes feel. I dont know my birth parents. Ive never seen them. My mother passed away when I was just a year old, and a year later, I was placed in a children’s home.
When my wonderful aunt’s family found out where I was and what conditions I lived in, they arranged for my care and brought me to live with them in London. I wont pretend it was easy; my adoptive father was rather distant, and my mother worked from dawn until dusk to support us. She never pampered me, never told me I was beautiful or expressed pride in my school achievements, and she never hugged me. All I ever wanted was lovethe sort of love that makes you feel safe and cherished. But my mother simply didnt have time for tenderness. Deep down, I knew both parents cared for me, but they just weren’t able to show it openly.
Im quite sociable, usually laughing and in a good mood. But only I know what’s going on inside. These days, Im married and raising a wonderful, healthy girl. Im incredibly happy with my husband. He loves me, practically treats me like a queen, fulfils all my requests, and even helps with the housework. Still, I cant shake that feeling, that anxiety and fear, that Ill end up alone and unloved again. I missed affection so badly in childhood that I clung to any boy who showed me the slightest interest, and I liked anyone who tried to connect with me. For five years, I dated an absolute idiot because I was too scared to leave him, thinking no one else would ever need me. All of this was known only to me, and my husband knows mere bits and pieces. Now, I think: let my daughter have more love than she could ever expectmaybe then shell grow up to be a truly happy person.
