An Essay A Day For A Year
By Roe
Day 21, January 21, 2012
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I really like you. How wonderful it is when someone looks us in the eye and says that to us. It feels so much different than when we hear, “I really love you”. I am a lover of my beautiful wife, and I often say to her, “I love you”. When I do that I can feel her joy of hearing my expression of love, and I most often hear back, “I love you too.” But when I say, “I really like you”, I can feel her glow, and she most often says, “thank you”, and “I like you too.” I really hope you are able to express often to people, “I really like you”, and I hope you get to hear often, eye to eye, from lots of people, “I just like you”.
When I was a little boy my mom called me “little sunshine boy”. She said that looking into my eyes and watching me smile at her when I looked back was like watching the sun come up. I really liked my mom a lot. Liking someone is shining sunshine on them, and hearing the sound of, “I just like you”, makes us smile inside like sunshine.
There is a difference between telling our children how much we like them, and telling them, “I just like you”. I really hope your parents told you how much they liked you a lot when you were growing up. I don’t ever recall hearing that from my parents, and now that I realize how special I feel when I hear that from my wife and kids, I am really sad about having missed hearing that I was liked as a child.
When I was a tiny boy I really liked everybody. I really liked all the animals, and I really liked trees and plants and bugs. I was really scared of bugs and I didn’t want to touch them, but I really liked them. I remember smiling sunshine at everyone, and I remember all the very different reactions. Smiling at trees and flowers and bugs because I like them is very peaceful and very personal, I suppose because I don’t see a response like I do with people. But their response is there, even if you don’t believe me. When I smile at animals because I like them I always get a smile back, even if you don’t believe me. When animals smile back at me it doesn’t mean that they like me necessarily, it means, “you’re cool too”. I guess I am smiling more “I like “who” you are”, as opposed to “I like “how” you are.” I really hope that there are a lot of people in your life that tell you that they like “who” you are.
My mother said I beamed sunshine, and when I smiled it was like the sun coming out. I suppose that it is like that for every mom and dad with their newborns and infants. In my case the sunshine was overabundant. When I would beam sunshine at animals they would come over to meet me. “Hi you!” I would say. “Aren’t you neat!”. And even if the animal didn’t’ particularly like how I was, it always felt good to feel that they liked who I was. “Hi back, you’re neat too”, they would say to me. When I would smile sunshine on other babies and very small children like me, they would beam sunshine back from head to toe, and back and forth we would go until we tilted like little pinball machines. And then we would rest for just a few seconds and start over. I really miss playing “I really like you” with other babies and small children.
As time went on, it got harder and harder to beam sunshine. When I showed how much I liked big people they began to react very strangely, and it puzzled me. As time went on my confusion turned to fear as I realized that my sunshine was scaring them, and they began to mistreat me for making them feel bad. “Why is he looking at me like that”, they would say. “Wow, he is a bright one”, and they would look away quickly out of fear or embarrassment. My first reaction was to go over to the scared big person and hug them, and I remember trying even harder to share my sunshine with them when I felt their painful reaction to my sunshine. Many, many times I was pushed away, and many more times my parents scolded me, “Roe, stop it!” I remember how badly this hurt. Before too long this turned to, “He is so strange”, and “Roe is ‘different’.
When I realized that sunshining my liking to the big people made them hurt, I wanted to give them more sunshine to help their hurt. To my very scary amazement their hurt would turn to panic, and they would begin to defend themselves by rejecting me. I remember that this hurt so deeply that I would cry. I would cry for my hurt, and I would cry for their hurt, and I was so sure that my tears would fix everything. I even remember holding out my hands to them as I cried so we could fix each other. When I saw them victoriously scoffing at me, and ridiculing me for my tender tears, I remember feeling like I died inside. I think I died inside so many times that I began to be terrified of my own sunshine. But before I turned off my sunshine altogether, I remember very carefully memorizing this very sad chain reaction.
First, I remember clearly that I could feel how the big people were hurting inside. That is what prompted me to shine on them and hug them. “Hello!” I remember feeling, “don’t worry, everything is going to be OK, I just like you!”
Next, I clearly remember how good this made them feel. I remember feeling their own sunshine beginning to glow. I remember them feeling, “You mean me? You like me? And everything is going to be OK with me?”
Then, I remember how feeling their own glow turned into pain, and how this made them scared and angry. I remember that the big people needed to turn me off, or make me go away, or even hurt me so that they did not feel scared or angry any more. My sunshine was the trigger of their hurt.
I memorized how this hurt me so badly that I would burst into tears, and how I was crying for my hurt and theirs. I remember feeling so sure that when they could see and feel my tears that they would help me. And I was positive that at that time I could help them too. “All we have to do is feel how nice the sunshine is”, I thought, “and if it hurts all we have to do is cry”.
I memorized very carefully how I was treated when I cried. When I cried the big people changed from scared and angry to terrified and rageful. My mother would express her terror and rage to me by ignoring me and abandoning me. And my father showed his terror and rage by exploding into rants and aggression. I remember becoming terrified and rageful of my own sunshine and tears. I remember becoming ignoring and abandoning of my own sunshine and tears.
I memorized the moment I realized, “uh, oh, I am turning out just like them”. They are making me just like them so they don’t have to feel scared and hurt. I am turning off my sunshine and tears because they hurt me when I sunshine and cry. I am turning off my sunshine and tears because now it hurts when I sunshine and cry just like them.
Finally, I realized that someday I would grow up to be just like my parents. Someday I would behold the sunshine of my own infant and feel fear and pain instead of joy. Someday I would mistreat my children and those around me in defense of my own pain, and in defense of the loss of my own sunshine and tears. On the day that my sun went dark, and on the day that my tears went dry, I resolved to remember me and my sunshine and tears. And I resolved to remember yours.
So here goes, and this is scary. I just like you. I like who you are even if I don’t like how you are. I know that sharing my sunshine with you can make you feel scared and angry and want to laugh at me and want to hurt me. That’s OK, I feel the same way. That just makes me want to burst out crying, and I know that my tears can fix everything. I know that seeing me cry is painful for you and you may ridicule me and hurt me so you don’t feel the pain that makes you cry. That's OK, I feel the same way. Maybe we can cry together, because that will fix everything.
I just want to say: Hello!, Don’t worry, everything is going to be OK! I just like you! I sure hope you get to hear that often.
I hope I see you tomorrow.
yourpersonalmuse@gmx.com
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