Eyes closed, the happiest smile, wavy hair bouncing with every dainty toddler prance. The sunlight sparkled on her chubby face in a moment of pure bliss. The magic left a mark on my soul. That unhindered, unfiltered, silly giddy joy. My little S knew how to have fun on that trampoline.
What did it feel like I wondered?
When my hubby took the kids out to Trader Joe’s, I decided to try it myself. Up I went to the trampoline, closed my eyes and jumped without a care in the world. Then I lay down to catch my breath and tears surprisingly erupted out of me.
I remembered that little girl inside me. The one who used to crash into things because I was having so much fun going fast. I got so many falls, bumps and scrapes but I never cared. I was living life. I was fully alive.
One day a fall hurt more than usual, followed by a string of disappointments, hardships and setbacks. Then I stopped taking risks. I’ve been too reckless, I reasoned. Time to be responsible. Make practical choices. Grow up.
Before I knew it, I had stifled that carefree girl’s voice. Shut her out. Stuffed her down. Reasoned her away. But she wanted to speak. She wanted to play. She wanted to jump with eyes closed on that trampoline. She wanted to be free again.
And so I let her.