Recognizing My Trauma Helped Me See the Signs of Abuse
Thirty years later, I could come through for a little girl just like me
My eight-year-old is the kind of kid every adult loves.
She’ll have a conversation with you about anything, share her ruminations on life, and show you the latest contortion poses she learned from YouTube. She’s got a smile that lights up any room and, though many things are tough for her, she works harder than anyone else I’ve ever met.
Relationships with other children, however, don’t come very easily. She’s not very adept at reading social situations and, while she craves closeness with her peers and is desperate to be liked, it has proven very difficult for her to form lasting friendships. Her empathy and need for peer approval make her an easy target for abuse and bullying. Much like me, when I was a kid.
She’s been used as a pawn between other girls, made to believe she’s responsible for fixing their friendship troubles, fed conflicting stories from both directions and unable to decipher the truth.
