It’s Not Because of You – Reparenting My Inner Child
The little girl – she must have been seven or eight years old – sat on the stairs in the dark of the hallway and concentrated really hard. If she could just stay quiet enough, breathe more shallowly and strain her ears, she would be able to hear what was being said, and work out if it was her fault. She opened her eyes wider and stared through the bannister rails at the crack of light under the kitchen door, as if she might be able to see the words, and that way understand better if she had caused them. …