Girlhood Was ROBBED from Us

What Happens When You Don’t Get A Childhood?

Girlhood Vs. Reality

Girlhood was not all about ribbons and sleepovers for me growing up. Girlhood was about being a girl…in the hood. A girl always in survival mode, learning to “code switch” around others I didn’t feel safe or comfortable near. I learned at a very young age that I had to figure things out for myself, but will be punished for making a mistake. I’ve watched others’ children for long periods of time while they went out and partied because I was more “mature”. I have experienced the high anxiety of walking into a corner store with twelve eyeballs staring me down and asking me for my name. Oh, and I have dealt with having to hold onto traumatic secrets to protect family members. I’m sure all of us can at least put one finger down for any of those things I have just mentioned.

Girlhood In Books Vs. Real Life

One thing my mother always handed me was a book. So, out of habit, I became obsessed with reading. I loved to read…but reading also made me sad. The girls in the books weren’t living the same life as me. They had sleepovers, safe homes, parents who protected them, and dreams they were allowed to chase.

In books and television shows, you had the girls in every sport you could think of. It made me remember the time I was on the school’s basketball team, but could never attend any of the games because my mother didn’t want to drive me to any of the games. At the end of the season, the coach threw a pizza party. I overheard another young girl ask him why was I there if I didn’t go to any games. The coach told her I was apart of the team, and that’s all that mattered.

Even at a young age, I noticed the adults taking pity on me.

I didn’t grow up obsessed with shows or characters because none of them reflected my life. Their life lessons weren’t mine. Their fun hobbies weren’t mine. I couldn’t relate—and honestly, I stopped trying to.

I didn’t want their world. I wanted to feel and know that my life mattered too.

The Rage That Followed The Pages

I didn’t realize how angry it truly made me until I got older.

Not an explosive anger, but the kind that just sits in your chest with 100 pound weight. The kind that makes you irritated at people who had “normal” childhoods. You don’t personally dislike them, but knowing they have the chance to be protected, soft, and seen almost makes you resent them.

I often catch myself mourning something that I had never experienced. A version of myself that could have existed with a different life, with different parents, and a safer world.

Hey…and maybe that’s where the rage lives: in knowing that I shouldn’t have to heal from a childhood that I never asked for.

A hidden rage begins to build when survival is praised but never questioned.

Reclaiming My Girlhood, One Chapter At A Time

The past can’t be re-written. I will never be able to go back and give little me what she needed.

But, I can love her and heal her now. I show up for her. In little, quiet ways that are powerful and felt through ought my core.

I reclaim my girlhood every time I let myself rest without feeling guilty.

Every time I put on my soft girl music.

Every time I cry in peace, and feel better after.

Every time I say “no” with no explanation.

When I speak, protect my peace, and choose joy without it being earned my girlhood is reclaimed. A little piece of myself glues itself back together. Seeking that validation within myself rather than in a man or monitoring spirits.

I don’t have to be useful to deserve softness.

I don’t have to perform strength to show that I am worthy of care and love.

If you’re reading this, and can feel the same ache in your chest, then make sure you do one small thing just for her. The little version of you. Buy her favorite candy. Play her favorite movie tonight. Put on her favorite playlist! TALK to her.

I may never be able to get the version of girlhood I always dreamed of, but I’m learning that it’s never too late to give myself what I need. Every action I take is for her. The little girl in the hood who wanted and deserved so much more.

Was your girlhood stolen too?

Leave a comment: “what’s one thing you’re doing to reclaim your softness today?