8 year old self 80 year old self

This is me around eight years old. I'm showing a happy smiley face because I received the doll that I really really wanted. She poops when you feed her! Also, I loved to wear jewellery that made me feel rich and famous!

What you can't see is the eight years of family dysfunction, abandonment, and the 1970's foster care system's wear and tear on a little girl. The mental, physical, and sexual abuse I endured made moments like this one somehow "easier" to take.

It was a long road of self reflecting for me to get to a place of forgiveness for the harm that was done to me. My aha moment was that broken people break people; hurt people hurt people. What I had to do in my life was to never be either of those people.

I've lived my entire life with pure intentions. This means that I try my absolute best to never intentionally bring harm to another person's soul. Am I perfect at it? No, because imperfect people will never be perfect. But I try everyday to be the best imperfect person that I can.

At this juncture in my life (age 55) I have to wonder if my eight year old self would be proud of how far we've come. And on the flip side I wonder if my eighty year old self will be proud of how I chose to live my life.

I can say whole-heartedly that my eight year old self is amazed by me. I'm hopeful that my eighty year old self will feel the same when I get there. <3