Inspiration for this post came to me today while I was pushing my EB on the swings. How carefree the world feels as you soar feet first into the sky! EB giggled as I pushed her higher and higher. “Higher mommy! Again, again!” she would cheer! I am delighted that she loves to swing as much, if not more, than I did as a small child.
I happily recall swinging at my neighbors house when we lived in Killeen, TX. The neighborhood was full of little boys, but they accepted me as one of their own. We spent our days swinging as high as we could and jumping off to see how far we could fly, in addition to riding bikes, building forts, and playing Star Wars in the big tree out front. As the only girl, I always got to be Princess Leia! Worked for me. They were awesome friends, and I always smile thinking about those simple times.
Those were happy days. I was five. Back then I had never been called fat, I had never experienced sexism or racism or “mean teenagerism” or any other kind of discrimination. I still believed I could go anywhere, do anything, and be anyone I wanted to be. I believed families were happy and parents stayed together.
I didn’t know what kind of pain and joy this life was capable of bringing.
I was safe.
I was happy.
On those swings, we would fly.
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