Today I was sitting on the bus looking out the window at the beautiful scenery on the Isle of Wight, where I now live. The bus pulled into the bus stop and a little girl, probably about 3 years old started to cry. The little girl was sound asleep and her moth had woken her up to get off the bus.
My grandmother always told me that I was asleep when my mother left me. I then woke up and cried for her.
I sat back on the bus, and watched as the mother gently stroked the child’s head and kissed the screaming child. I watched as she reassured her that everything was alright, and I thought to myself wow, I was half that child’s age when my mother left me with her parents, and she was never around for me when I needed comfort.
All of a sudden big tears came running down my face, I pulled my big straw hat over my eyes so that nobody could see me crying. Whenever I see small children I always think to myself was I really that small and vulnerable when my mother left me. I told the psychologist that I constantly have triggers like this and I really can’t help myself from being upset.