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That little girl has grown...
I am now what one can call a "middle-aged" woman, I guess. Some of my childhood friends might already be grandmothers,
but I don't feel like a grandmother, even though, technically, I could be one.
I feel closer to the definition of growth according to Erikson. I have
reached the stage where I am settling in, building a family and feeling rested after a long period of searching for a partner.
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Starting
my Life
over
and over
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A Grown Woman
I am now the proud mother of a little boy. He is exactly the way I thought
he would be. I always thought I would have a coffee-with-milk baby, and it was not a surprise to me to see him enter my life.
I had long given up the idea of having a child (let alone the twelve children I had planned to
have when I was a teenager!) when I became pregnant with Leo. Past thirty, I though I was too old, because I could remember
well the times when my own parents were thirty. It was a psychological barrier I was not ready to clamber.
God decided differently and gave me the chance to experience motherhood in His own uncertain ways.
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How did I get here?
I have always followed my star. From a young age, I envisaged there was a star in the sky shining only for me and I had
to climb my ladder to reach it. "Never give up! never stop!" a little voice inside me sang.
Now, when I look back at the 40 plus years gone by, I can say "Yes! I definitely would change a lot to what I have
done!" but since it is not possible "Yes! I definitely have learnt a lot!"
I was born and raised in a working family, in the suburbs of one of France's biggest cities. I lived in the city, spent
short holidays in the country. I was in touch with both worlds: the scum of the busy life in the city and the freedom and
life-skills experiments in the coutry.
I liked to be alone, and I never considered myself as a child. Just like a baby who, until he can recognize himself in
the mirror, sees himself like his parents, I identified myself with the decisions I had to make, and most of them were
grown-up's decisions.
Read a autobiographical short story I wrote about my childhood.
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