My father told me not to pick up my daughter, worrying that Im too soft with his granddaughter. Lately, my little girl has started crawling, and whenever I leave the room, she follows right behind, eager to be scooped up into my arms. Her grandfather warns me not to pamper herhe believes shell learn to be independent if she stays on the floor. Still, I cant help but hold her close, and sometimes I wonder if Im being overprotective.
I have to admit, I am gentle with her. I comfort her when she cries, shower her with kindness, and find it hard to scold her. Maybe Im making up for the love and care I missed as a child. I spent my early years in a childrens home after my mother passed away; I never knew my birth parents. When my cousins family heard about my situation, they welcomed me into their home and gave me a new start.
In the beginning, it was tough. My adoptive father was reserved, and my mother worked tirelessly to support us, leaving little time for affection. Although I knew they loved me, it wasnt easy for them to show it. I learned to imagine my own stories, picturing myself as a cherished princess ruling over a kingdom filled with love and warmth.
As I grew older, I craved approval and affection from others, especially in relationships. I clung to anyone who showed me attention, and I even stayed in an unhealthy relationship for five years, too fearful to believe Id ever find love elsewhere. My husband, who is kind and understanding, knows a bit about my past and has always supported me, though I havent shared everything. Despite the shadows of my childhood, I find myself overflowing with love for my daughter. I want her to have all the affection she deservesmore than I ever had.
Looking back now, I realise that while independence is important, children also need tenderness and reassurance. Its not weakness to give love freely. True strength lies in breaking old patterns and offering those we love the kindness we once longed for ourselves.
