Remember the Little Girl

I asked God this week exactly when i stopped dancing. When did fear rob me of my sense of adventure and turn me into the wallflower who desperately wants to be noticed but is so afraid of being seen? The thought that kept coming to me was this, "Remember the little girl". One thing i have never been able to forget is the little girl. That little girl was and is me. Though by all outward appearances i am a woman, the little girl is still trapped inside. This little girl stopped dancing the day Grandmama died. I was 8 years old. Grandmama was my world, my best friend and the one who always told me i could do or be anything i put my mind to. She made me feel beautiful and special. Grandmama also nurtured my love for music and dance. She paid for my dance lessons and sewed my costumes for recital. At Christmas she would play "Little Drummer Boy" over and over for me. She must have tired of it but because i loved the song and requested it time after time whe would patiently pick up the needle and place it in just the right spot and the music would start all over again. My last memory of Grandmama is of walking through the airport, where we took her and Grandaddy to board a plane for California to visit my cousins. It was her birthday and Mama had baked her a cake so we had a little celebration before leaving for the airport. As Grandmama and i walked through the airport we were making plans of things we do when she returned. We never got the chance. Grandmama died of a stroke as their plane flew over Texas. Mama and Daddy woke my sister and me with the news. A lot of what happened after that is a blur. I went to the funeral home to see Grandmama one last time and she looked like she was sleeping. Two women behind me whispered, "She wants to touch her". Funny, the things i remember so many years later. I didn't go to the funeral. I couldn't, it hurt too much. Mama told me i would regret it if i did not go. She was right but i couldn't see that at the time. All i did know was that i was hurting very deeply and it is a hurt i have never overcome but with the passage of time the hurt has become such a part of me that it is all i have known for almost 30 years. This hurt has caused me to live in constant fear and to retreat from others. Since that time i have put people into two catergories: those i could never please and would never love me and those who maybe cared but for some reason would never stay around. I became a real people pleaser because i didn't want to disappoint or draw attention to myself yet i never lost the longing to be beautiful and to be noticed. Somewhere along the way i convinced myself that i must not let others see my hurt and know my pain. To numb the pain, i turned to food. It has never worked but i keep going back to it anyway. In all of this i also lost sight of who i am. Until yesterday i didn't even realize the anger i felt towards God. So there were no classes at Front Porch Academy yesterday because i was learning to grieve. It has been like losing Grandmama all over again and i am so frustrated because since i have suppressed it for so long i can't even cry like i want. Writing this has helped release some healing tears but there is still a "wall" that must come down. In between crying out to God and asking "why" i am also asking Him to show me how to bring down this wall. In my turmoil i have been turning to the food as usual and i can't help but feel that that may be at least part of the wall. In the meantime, the little girl is crying out for release and the thought occurs to me, "The little girl must be set free so the woman can dance". God, help me!