My father has always told me not to pick up my daughter so often, warning me that Im spoiling his granddaughter with too much softness. Lately, my little girl has started crawling, and every time I leave the room, she follows after me, eager to be scooped into my arms again. Her grandfather cautions me not to indulge her, insisting she must learn resilience by staying put on the floor. Still, I cant help but cuddle her close, and it leaves me wondering if I am perhaps a touch overprotective.
Ill admit, I do have a tendency to be overly gentle with her. When she cries, I stroke her hair and let kindness pour from me instead of scolding or letting her be. Deep down, I think Im compensating for all the love and care I never received as a child. After my mother passed away, I was brought up in a childrens home, never knowing my birth parents. Later, my cousins family took me in once they learned what had happened and did their best to provide a real home.
Those early years werent easy. My adoptive father always seemed distant, and my mothers life revolved around endless work to make ends meet, which left little space for affection. I realise now that they cared for me, but expressing it was clearly a struggle for them. So, as a young girl, I learned to weave my own stories, picturing a world where I was cherished and adored, a princess surrounded by boundless love.
This longing for approval followed me into adulthood, especially in my romantic relationships. Any small glimmer of affection made me cling tighter, and I stayed in an unhealthy partnership for five years, terrified that I might never find love elsewhere. My husband is wonderfully supportive and knows parts of my history, but not all of it. Despite everything, I find myself showering my daughter with every bit of affection I have, determined that she never feel the lack of love I once did. I want her to know she deserves all the warmth and adoration in the worldsomething I only dreamed of as a little girl.
