Facebook in A Childhood Lost

It triggers a part in me that needs to be Heard. Hear me, dammit! I AM a person! I HAVE a voice! I exist.

I spoke with that part today. She was 2 years old. Just 2 years old. A small, angry ball of fury screaming at the world that she exists. Please, someone just acknowledge that.
I felt so sad that no one did. No one would. No one cared about her enough to even acknowledge her.
So I gave her acknowledgement.
And now she is happy. She is confident. She is bold. And she doesn’t need petty people who diminish her and their own personhood to confirm her existence anymore.
She tells me when people who refuse to acknowledge themselves or me are around. Because she is confident in herself, she can spot the insecure a mile away.
And I thank her for that.