My sweet, brave, precocious girl - the day will come in which you notice other people using words like "dramatic" or "emotional" and you'll realize that more often than not they're likely speaking about you.
I wish I could prevent this. I wish I could make those words taboo. I wish I could cover your ears and save you from them, but I can't.
Yesterday you fell and scraped your knee on our way out the door for school. Your scream was so loud and piercing that the gentlemen across the street working the excavator on our neighbors lawn stopped in their tracks, wondering what could possibly be wrong. They could not see the tiny scrape on your knee that hurt badly; that you needed to scream about to deal with.
I calmly put the other kids in the car and grabbed you a ninja turtle Band-Aid, and I scooped you up to put you in the car seat because you said it hurt too badly to walk. When you limped into kindergarten I didn't tell you to "suck it up" or "stop being melodramatic, it's just a scrape." I told you that I knew it hurt awfully bad to fall down, and that I hoped as the day went on it felt better. And I told your teacher you'd scraped your knee, and to please show you empathy if you mentioned it and needed a little extra love.
When I picked you up from school, you were fine.
When your brother asked you for your last dried mango in the car, you offered to split it in half with him. When he demanded the whole piece, you promised him the bigger half. When still he insisted he wanted the whole thing because he was hungry, you asked me if it was okay if you gave him the whole piece and waited until we got home to get a different one.
I told you that you didn't have to give it to him, you'd been so generous to offer him half, and the bigger half at that. You said you knew you didn't have to, but he was clearly upset and must be much hungrier than you. You could wait. Besides, you loved him so much and knew he would appreciate it, because you would if it were you in his position.
My heart leapt into my throat; you're so compassionate and generous.
When you were sculpting play-dough, you couldn't get it just so. After several tries, you finally threw your hands up in the air and just screamed. You were so frustrated.
I made you aware of my presence, I let you know I was there if you needed me. You told me no, you just needed to scream big. So I let you scream big. Then you felt better and tried again. You finally accomplished what you were trying. Your grin consumed your entire face with your success.
At horseback riding lessons you got to do the double logs. Once you'd done it, sitting in that big ol' saddle, you punched your little fist up into the sky and shrieked, "Woo hoo! I did it! I did it!" I'm sure anyone within a 20 mile radius heard your joy.
At dinner, Papa mentioned he needed to get his hair trimmed. You fled the table and ran upstairs where I found you flung on your bed, sobbing your heart out. I laid down next you and stroked your head while you curled into my chest and just sobbed. You told me how much you loved your papa's hair and how sad it made you that he was going to cut it. I acknowledged your grief, because yes, for you, it truly was grief, and then we talked about how we only get to control our own bodies. You understood, though you were still heart broken. And that's okay, you have the right to your own feelings.
This was only one day with you, my sweet H. One beautiful, perfect day.
Your feelings are so big, no matter what they may be.
I adore that about you.
I was so much like you once. I had such big feelings.
But I was told by so many people that I was "dramatic," "melodramatic," "emotional," and eventually "hormonal." I heard it so often that I eventually started labeling myself as such, without any prompting. And eventually learned to just keep them all inside, so no one had to deal with or feel uncomfortable by my feelings.
I hope you never do this.
I hope you always feel comfortable expressing your big emotions in whatever way is most comfortable for you. I hope you are never made to feel ashamed.
These big feelings are such a gift. I hope you some day know this.
I hope you know that not everyone experiences life the way you do. And that's okay.
You feel everything big: deeply. The good and the bad - it's all just big. And that's amazing.
I cannot stop others from whispering the words "dramatic" or "emotional" when they witness your big feelings, and it makes them uncomfortable so they are hoping we shut you down quick so they don't have to bothered; but I will always do my best to make you feel safe expressing those feelings. I will do my best to always let you know they're okay. To accept those big feelings, even during those times that it makes me uncomfortable because my own instinct says to shut you down, since that's how others always reacted to me.
I hope you know that words like "dramatic" and "emotional" are just cop-out words that people throw out when they feel insecure themselves. I hope you know that even though they may be said about you, you are not those words. You are H. You are strong. You are empathetic. You are courageous. You are vivacious. And you're a bit precocious. But you are not cop-out words like "dramatic" or "emotional."
Some days, it may feel like you've been cursed, experiencing life so much deeper than others often do, but in the end, I hope you realize what a gift it truly is. Your sunshine will always be a bit brighter, the flowers will always smell more fragrant, the ice-cream sweeter, and the happiness deeper in your soul - and that my dear, sweet girl, permeates everything and everyone. What a gift!
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