The more I make these dolls, the more I pay attention to my own. I’ve had my doll for several years now. In that time she has gone from all but being hidden in my bedroom to now sitting in the living room with flowers and such around her.
I’ve re-written this entry four times and have settled on the fact that it’s choppy. The entry is a collection of thoughts concerning my own inner child doll named Mia.
I couldn’t look at her for long periods of time and I didn’t look in her eyes. I felt anger toward her. I hurt for her. I couldn’t touch her. It felt like if I touched her I would have this lightening shock between me and her and I’d have to feel everything from childhood and adulthood all in one moment. I felt like I’d be gripped by flashbacks and never stop crying, never stop feeling the flashbacks on my body.
As time went on she didn’t feel like a six year old anymore. I hadn’t planned on that, didn’t expect it. But with personal healing as well as personal losses, she has aged. It feels safer to have her as a reflection of that child who grew up in my skin. It feels safer to change her clothing or her earrings, even her shoes. This means actually touching her for longer than 3 seconds. It means I’ve thought about her and what I’d like to see on her.
There is one hard and fast rule for her. No one touches her! No one but me. Visitors who get too close are watched like a hawk. No one has tested the boundary. Good. I hate acting ugly, but I will. Step away from the doll.
I’ve made jewelry specifically for Mia. Her name was chosen randomly. Anyway, I make jewelry for her, she has her own little doll that sits on her lap. It’s just her very own toy that won’t be taken away from her.
I don’t talk to her. What would I say?
I think seeing her as a reflection of myself shows me that there was something pretty about me. There was something innocent about me, something that should have been treated differently, protected.
Knowing what time period she symbolized sort of forced my hand on issues I was too afraid and too tired to look at, without a little push.