The bands anchoring my heart are getting stronger. I know this because last night when Izzy shared a new worry, my heart merely lurched. Last week it was jumping. This week just lurching. Next week – fluttering?
There we were in our usual end of day snuggle. Izzy and Sleepy Tea (a soft toy lamb who used to be named Moro – after the bar, and belonged to Freddie) turned off the light and settled in to bed for a pre-sleep story. However, I’ve developed this cunning new technique – I tell Izzy I need quiet to think of a story and within five minutes of that quiet she’s asleep.
But that sneakiness aside, this time of day is our most precious. It’s just us. In the dark, and that seems to be a setting where anything can be said and where Izzy tends to share her deepest thoughts.
“Mum, why can’t little girls wear make up?” This is a popular topic for conversation recently, replacing “Mum, why can’t little girls wear high heels?”
So I answered this fairly resonably, something more than just ” because I said so” and something less than a full tirade on how some may see makeup as sexualising little girls… I ended with a generous “you’ve got all that to look foward to when you’re a lady.”
Izzy is four. She’s bright but I wasn’t expecting this response – “but I don’t have that to look forward to Mum. I won’t be a beautiful lady wearing make up, I’ll be a man wearing make up and I’ll look horrible. Mum, please, I don’t want to be a man wearing make up. How can you help me.”. Lurch.
Of course I promised everything would be alright. I promised she won’t grie up to be a man unless she wants to. Izzy asked me if we could see Dr# and Dr * so that they could promise too. Then she asked “how is it possible Mum? How will I get a girls body?” Lurch.
I’m not ready for this. But I have to be. Izzy wants concrete answers. If I try and brush over her concerns they’ll stay in her head. I can’t stop thinking about the statistics. Lurch.
I promise EVERYTHING I need to, to put this little angel’s mind at rest. I tell her to trust me. She says she does. She’s so amazing.
My heart didn’t jump, not once. It lurched. But when it settled back in to place, a little bit of it was broken.