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\u201cAlways communicate with compassion to your child. Even if they appear not to listen, repeat those phrases a hundred or even a thousand times, and they’ll eventually become the child’s own inner dialogue.\u201d ~My grandmother<\/strong><\/p>\n When I think back to my childhood, \u201cnight\u201d is the first term that surfaces.<\/p>\n The nights were consistently the most challenging.<\/p>\n My father struggled with alcoholism and occasionally expressed his pain through aggression in the home.<\/p>\n As a young one, I felt peril could emerge at any moment once darkness fell.<\/p>\n I was afraid of sleeping soundly. I kept a light on in my room because the dark felt like surrendering control. Part of me was terrified my father could enter and do something to me while I slept. Living this way made attending school feel impossible.<\/p>\n I was too drained to concentrate, my body tense from nightly anxieties. Moreover, people in our neighborhood were aware of my father’s issues.<\/p>\n Some parents instructed their kids to steer clear of forming friendships with me due to his reputation. At school, I often found myself alone, observing other children laughing together during lunch while I quietly ate in the corner.<\/p>\n Teachers mostly recognized my pain only when it surfaced as misbehavior. They often reprimanded me, and soon I began to internalize the belief that something was deeply flawed within me.<\/p>\n In my own perception, I wasn\u2019t an anxious, weary child. I was labeled \u201cthe bad one,\u201d the difficult child, the person everyone evaded. I didn\u2019t know how to alter that narrative, so I bore it like a heavy burden.<\/strong><\/p>\n My mother was also struggling. Wounded by my father, anxious about finances, and perpetually fearful of what might happen next, she occasionally raised her voice at me when I misbehaved as she had exhausted her energy. I don\u2019t hold it against her\u2014she was doing her best in a tough situation.<\/p>\n One day, my grandmother came to visit and witnessed my mother yelling at me. Later, she pulled her aside and imparted something that transformed our lives.<\/p>\n She suggested, \u201cAlways speak positively to your child. Even if it appears he isn\u2019t paying attention, if you repeat those affirming words a hundred or a thousand times, they will eventually become his thoughts.\u201d<\/p>\n My grandmother was convinced that reiterating love could reshape a child\u2019s internal landscape.<\/p>\n My mother took this to heart more than I could have anticipated. She began carrying a small notebook. Daily, she selected a different phrase to share with me. At times she would say, \u201cYou are a kind boy.\u201d Other times, \u201cYou can evolve into a gentle, strong adult.\u201d Occasionally, \u201cNo matter what happened today, you still<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cAlways communicate with compassion to your child. Even if they appear not to listen, repeat those phrases a hundred […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":9665255,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"Default","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9665254","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/spiritualjourneydigest.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9665254","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/spiritualjourneydigest.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/spiritualjourneydigest.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/spiritualjourneydigest.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/spiritualjourneydigest.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=9665254"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/spiritualjourneydigest.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9665254\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/spiritualjourneydigest.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/9665255"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/spiritualjourneydigest.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=9665254"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/spiritualjourneydigest.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=9665254"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/spiritualjourneydigest.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=9665254"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nI positioned my head near the door, leaving it slightly open. I wanted it to bump my head if someone entered, so I could wake up immediately.<\/p>\n
\nAnother part worried he might harm my mother, and I would be oblivious. Thus, I remained half awake, attuned to every sound, ready to defend her, even though I was just a young child.<\/p>\n
\nWithin it, she penned line after line\u2014things she wished for me to believe about myself. The pages were brimming, overflowing with her aspirations for me.<\/p>\n