“Sometimes I feel like I don’t belong here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like I’m on the wrong planet. You know?”
My little boy looked so open to my thoughts, but also embarrassed; dreading the possibility of judgment.
I tried to think of what my parents might have said in response to this statement — had I even been able to vocalize the words at age eight — while one of them strapped a seatbelt around my waste.
I imagined how they would have laughed and told me how ridiculous I sounded, or teased me about being some strange alien force that had managed to sneak her way to Earth.
Had I ever had the courage or words to describe that feeling as a child, I have no doubt I would have been made to feel uncomfortable. I would have vowed to never speak of it again.
I was already convinced, by age eight, that I was the only one who’d ever felt so alone in this world. I wished – more than anything – I had anyone to trust with how awful it felt.
I understood the weight of my words as I responded, and I chose them carefully.
“I do know. I know exactly how you feel. I have felt that way many times in my life, and I’m certain a lot of other people have experienced it too. You do belong here, My Love. And if ever you forget again, just let me know, and I’ll remind you.”
“Really?” He asked, as if it might be an incredible imposition.
Because when we are beyond this world, and get lucky enough to meet others who can feel it too, it’s so wonderful to be reminded.
We are not alone.