Lessons from a four year old
It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.
After an excitement-filled, sugar-infused and slightly germy Christmas, my four-year old’s eyes welled up as we approached the school gates on a grim January morning. By the time we made it to the classroom Little E’s face had crumpled and tears were trickling down her nose.
I reassured her that she had nothing to be sad or worried about, and that there was no need for tears. We had one last ten hugs.
As I prised her off my leg and handed her over to her wonderfully up-beat teaching assistant, it struck me that Little E was perfectly entitled to feel those feelings. It was her life and she could jolly well cry if she wanted to.
You see, I’ve been feeling a grown up version of her wobbles for the last few weeks, and although I haven’t been weeping and clinging onto my husband’s leg as he tries to leave the house, I have been feeling the fear.
The freelancer fear.
Little E and I are both embarking on new journeys which involve a cocktail of feelings ranging from excitement and joy to nerves and yes, sometimes, plain old fear.
She was all smiles at pick up time and, as she stuffed the compulsory after-school snack into her happy mouth, we talked about how it’s ok to feel sad, to cry and to feel scared from time to time. But it’s not ok to let it stop you doing what you want to do (within reason - explore a four year old’s wants with caution).
It took a while, but these days Little E skips off for her day with a happy nonchalance.
And as I embark on my freelance journey I hope I’ll soon be joining her. Feeling the fear, and doing it anyway.
Wish me luck.