My Girl

Sixteen and a half years ago I gave birth to a tiny baby girl. This baby had wreaked havoc on my body just to bring her into the world, and when she arrived I had no idea what just happened. I had a lot of medical issues giving birth to her and though she should have been a c-section delivery, that just wasn't in the cards and my body paid the price.

I liken giving birth to her to the scenes in the Alien movies where the Chest-Burster breaks free from it's human host. Speaking of Alien, she certainly appeared to be a strange little creature.

As much as I was proud of myself for bringing this little thing into the world on my own and starting my early twenties as a single parent, I knew she was different. There were oddities about her, but they were oddities that made you smile.

Every time she would cry, all I had to do was walk outside and her tiny face would look up at the sky and she would stop, no matter how bad she was crying, whether it was day or night, she just looked up and her sweet little face saw something wonderous that even I started to see through her.

This child of mine was growing, and as she grew, there was so much more she would bring to life, not just for me, but to those we passed by, friends, family and even strangers. If we ever went shopping she would beam these beautiful sparkly eyes and big smile at anyone who looked her way, so much so that people had to come over and say hello. I even had a friend with a baby a few months younger who had asked if we could swap children one day during shopping so she could feel what it was like to walk around with a baby that smiles and laughs at everything.

As beautiful and sweet as she was, odd things happened around her all the time. Toys would go off in the middle of the night, the mobile over her cot would turn on and off. This was ever creepier once I took the batteries out of them and they still kept going, but she was there giggling away.

Once she got to the toddler age she started to show some really quite creepy signs. Lingering in the dark in the doorways just staring at you, staring at you while you slept only to wake up with a fright. What made it worse was this long brown hair she would have hanging over her face covering her eyes. There was something dark in her, but something so light as well.

Words were limited in our house, I was never a big talker and my girl and I managed to communicate through just feeling somehow. At the age of three though I spoke to a Doctor about different things she did and we went down this new path of diagnosing her with Autism.

Confirming she had Autism did not change anything for me, I raised her the same way I had always been, I did not change who I was either, and as she grew up I also learned that I was also Autistic. It was through her and my son who came later that I discovered the oddities in myself were normal for us. This is why I struggled in school and with people and just talking to others when all I wanted was to be left alone with my own mind.

My two children and I experienced some brutal things in life, abuse from my partner, homelessness, me working three jobs to try and keep a roof over our heads and all the while not realising we had PTSD from the bullying and hardship and domestic violence we had been exposed to.

My children saw me hurting. I tried my best to cover the bruises under make-up, but there is only so much it can cover. My ex had pushed me down stairs numerous times, punched me, kicked me to the point I felt I couldn't move, but the first thought in my mind was those children.

Every time I stood back up it was because of those children. My son has a father in his life, but my daughter, it was always just me, no one would love her like me, no one would understand her like me, I had to survive for her, for both of them.

Now they are teenagers. My daughter went through a phase of breathing fire for a while but the beast within seems to be sleeping at the moment. Though her brother dared to enter the cave without knocking one to many times and would retreat like a puppy with his tail between his legs.

My life raising these children as a single mother (I say single even though there were partners on occasion because an abuser does not help you, you are still a single parent). People wanted to go out with me but could not handle the free spirit we had despite the trauma we had experienced. We were all different and we knew it, but my girl, she was something else.

Sadly she experienced an unfounded amount of bullying in her last year of high school. There was cruelty that she should never have had to go through again after what we had seen. The most amazing thing about her was that even though she would break down every day in tears, she would hold razors to her body and cut to try and get the pain out, she still studied so hard not giving up. Everyday she would get up and get dressed in her uniform and walk forty minutes to school knowing what was waiting for her when she got there, and in her pain and suffering and loneliness, her determination also grew, her grades were all so impressive, distinctions, high distinctions.

There were days I tried to convince her to stay home just for her to rest, to have some down time for her mind, but she refused and kept going, enduring that pain everyday from other people. There were some people around her that she regarded as friends, the funny thing about them was how they would always bring her food or gifts, as though she was a queen bee, they wanted her advice and her attention, and she was so humble with them, showing them love and gratefulness in her trials. How were these children making so much food at home without their parents noticing? If they did, what did they think of me, don't I feed my children?

My daughter went along with it as though it was normal, and for her it was, because there were always two extremes around her. Those that were cruel to her and tried to hurt her and those that craved her, but none of them understood how exhausted any of them made her, she just wanted someone to understand her.

I have always been so fortunate she would come and talk to me about her pain, her sadness and anguish. I have been there too, looking around at a room full of people and knowing none of them can see who you really are.

Our relationship has always been good, but for her to experience things on a level she knew I had been at gave her something towards me, a caring and respect as her mother and how much I try to always do right by them even though the world is harsh and I myself have been broken by others.

To this day she still does creepy things, but now she embraces her darkness. I get up at 2 a.m to go to the bathroom, why is she standing in the doorway at the end of the hall with her hair over her face?

I get a fright, then smile because that is the Alien I gave birth to. Maybe she has some demon in there, I don't know. You never get a straight answer from her, the answers she does give are short and you must use your imagination to guess the rest, she is wildly independent and still lives in love with nature and all it's creatures and elements as much as the day she was born, and what is more beautiful is how creatures just seem to know and approach her.

I watch her go about life now, she graduated grade ten and instead of going back to school she is out there doing a Diploma through online learning. Exploring the world in her own time and achieving good results through her hard work and self discipline.

People tell me she is the result of good parenting. I can't take credit for her though. This creature came to me and changed my life, I learned so much about myself by trying to survive for her and my son. My daughter accepts the person I am and what is more precious is that she adores who I am. I have spent my weekends locked away from people like a hermit in my own world trying to figure my own healing path and she watches me too and loves the truth I have given her. I have cried a lot more recently knowing that very soon she will be moving on with her own life and I will not have her under my wings anymore.

Not so long ago I was standing in front of the mirror getting dressed and she walked in and asked about my stretchmarks on my stomach.

"Did you get any scars from Phoenix, or just me?"

"They are all from you, your brother didn't give me any."

Then she said "They are your souvenirs from me."

Then she walked out. I looked at my body so differently then, they are souvenirs, from growing this unique creature inside me and having her break free into this world ready to explore everything it has to offer.

I have complete faith that she will navigate her way through this crazy world with grace and smarts and maybe a little bit of creepiness just to keep people mystified by her.

My daughter, Jaime-Kanan. A remarkable force of nature. Kind, gentle, funny, smart, yet so dark and mysterious all wrapped into a human.

If I could ever have the chance to be like anyone other than myself who I have grown to love, it would be my daughter. The world I don't feel is ready for her yet, but she is coming anyway and will make her mark on it. I have no doubt.