Last night my son and I were reading a story before bedtime about two characters who realize they are the ones being written about and who's story is being told. It was then that it hit me! Neither of my children have heard my story that I wrote and published last year. I asked my son, "Do you remember that mommy is also in a book?" He looked up with a smile and said, "Oh, yeah! I forgot. Mommy, what does your book say?" So, I ceased the moment and got my copy of "Today's Inspired Latina". We snuggled in his bed and he excitedly flipped the pages to my chapter. When I began reading, my son had a zillion questions. He was surprised that at an early age I was teased and singled out. He had no idea the impact that it had on me and the ways it later shaped my decisions and mindset. He found out about some of mommy's struggles with self-esteem, self-confidence and the early development of my "I'm not good enough" inner critic. He discovered some of the lessons I learned along the way - especially how I channeled the hurt and frustration. There was so much intimacy in our heart to heart storytelling that I was reminded of the power in getting personal - even with our own children. My heart was truly open as I made myself vulnerable in a way that my son hadn't experienced me before. Last night was a uniquely special night as he listened intently and even shed a couple of tears as he deeply connected with my journey. Upon finishing my chapter, we hugged and talked some more. My son took my example and chose to open his heart as he shared some things that had been on his mind from school. Communication and dialogue are high on my list of values and I am conscious of its need to be nurtured. I don't always get it right, but when I do its impact is profound. I turned off the lights and he said, "mommy, I don't want to go to bed yet. I want to keep talking with you." My heart melted. I know those words may sound differently in 4 years, but my gut tells me these seeds have been planted and our relationship will continue to bloom. I sat with my 7 years old son, held him a little tighter and reassured him that I'm always available to share stories with.
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