My parents always used to tell me I was shy growing up, all the time, i remember it. Knowing what I know now I wonder if this was actually true. I mean I know it came to be true but I wonder if it only did because they spoke it over me so much, to the point where I just believed it must be true. After all, they are my parents and they knew me better than anyone. Why wouldn’t I trust what they told me I was to be true? maybe it just took/takes me longer to trust people, so I’m waiting and watching to see who they are and if it is safe to be myself around them?


If I look at other things they used to tell me which I now know were actually not truths, it takes me too this place of questioning. Like they always told me I was way too sensitive, because I cried a lot. In actual fact I wasn’t, I was picking up on all the emotions of the people around me and as a little person had no idea how to process it so it came out in tears. The Church world calls this being a “feeler”. I also am pretty compassionate, so when I see someone walking in less than who they are, it grieves me, I want to see and know them in all their fulness.


My Mum also always told me I didn’t like cream. Now this was a clever one. I never questioned her, I just assumed she must know, after all she is my Mum. But I would always have vague memories of times she had given it to me with strawberries in the summer and I was pretty sure I liked it. But I still believed her. One day in my later teens I suddenly realised I did like cream.


So I wonder sometimes…