Being Loved for the Child I Am

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For many years I have enjoyed dressing my American Girl dolls and doing their hair every Sunday. It’s fun, relaxing, homey, and makes me feel like I’m getting back in touch with my simplest, truest, most comfortable self.

I used to go to the privacy of my own room to do it. I wouldn’t be ashamed if someone found me doing it, but it wasn’t the sort of thing I’d have flaunted. Maybe I was too affected by the expectations the world has about being a grownup.

Since I’ve started it again in the home I share with Silvio, it’s different. He not only doesn’t judge me for my girlish ways. He delights in them. That I am still a child at heart makes him love me even more wildly.

It makes me feel even safer with him. It makes my heart feel so protected and cherished. He loves to make me feel happy and cozy, and he lights up if he can bring me tea in my Winnie the Pooh teapot, or even hear about the latest book I re-read from my childhood.

It reminds me how beautiful simplicity is and how God loves me as the child I really am, delighting in my truest self.

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