I wasn’t really sure what exactly to say, how to say it. Hell, I wasn’t expecting to see my adolescent self staring back at me. How do you prepare for the moment? Nobody tells you that you get an opportunity to make amends. Nobody tells you that you have a moment, just a brief moment to let her know how much you loved her and still do love her.

That was all that I could muster up. Of course, looking back at it now, I wish I would’ve said so many things. I wish I would have told her that she was enough. That what happened to her wasn’t because she wasn’t worth respecting. That although nobody wanted to talk to her about it, it wasn’t because she wasn’t important enough, it was because she was so loved and nobody knew how to handle something like that. It was 1981 and nobody talked openly about the really bad things that can happen to young girls. Nobody spoke about what happens when it’s your child and definitely nobody spoke about how to talk to your child about it.

 So they didn’t. 

Everyone just kept telling me how brave I was. How I had stopped the man that had hurt so many others. How proud they were of me. But nobody asked me if I felt that way. Nobody asked me if *I* was okay?

So yes, in that moment, perhaps that is what I should’ve asked her. Is she okay? But instead, I did what I knew how to do. Tough love. Expect her to deal with her feelings. She would figure them out. She was strong enough to do that. I let her know that we are grown now and I can no longer protect her. I had spent my entire life keeping people at a distance from her. I kept her locked up, safe and sound behind layers and layers of exterior and protected behind a giant smile. The smile that I was certain would ward off and throw anyone off my tracks that there was a vulnerable little girl inside who just wanted to be protected, safe and hugged. God, I wanted to be hugged. I didn’t even know it. I didn’t even know I needed any of this. Why should I have? I was strong and brave. “The girl that saved everyone.”

Plain and simple, I didn’t want anyone near her. She had been hurt enough.

I don’t remember every word that was said, but I do remember the feeling. The feeling that she was feeling abandoned. I remember walking away from her, glancing over my shoulder a few times to tell her I love her. I certainly let her know that. I just rationalized that what was happening was for our good. I told her “I love you and I always will, but it’s time that we stop hiding and stop worrying about the entire world hurting us.”

I didn’t know then what any of this meant. I didn’t understand why an hour into my trip back to LA, why I was still feeling ‘off.’ As if, something was not right. Not yet. Not at all. But, I did what I usually do and stuffed that feeling down and talked myself into why what I did was right.

But I knew.

She deserved more from me. Her entire life she deserved more. I didn’t even know it until much later.

–Excerpt from my upcoming book “Running From the Inside – The Journey Back to Me” 

(c) 2017 by Shari Alyse