BY ROBIN LYNN YOUNGLINGS

Disruptive Kid Or Highly Sensitive, Undefined, Limitless & Beautiful

youngling

BY ROBIN LYNN

So many of these doctors want to test me. They see me, they look at me with empty eyes. They see a nuisance, a disruptive kid, a behavioral issue.

I hear what he’s not saying, I see him rolling over textbooks of information, through lecture halls of data and diagnoses in his brain. I see him searching his labels, his list of symptoms…while he ignores my shining light.

He talks to my mommy and she’s upset. I feel this in me. I feel the way she trembles. He’s speaking, but she feels something’s not right…we both know this isn’t right.

I wish I could tell her I feel all of this. I wish I could speak — tell her she can trust herself, she can trust in me.

And what I know is, this doctor hasn’t factored my magic into this equation. He doesn’t see the way I see the world; in visions, in colors, in shapes, and layers. He doesn’t see my truth. He doesn’t feel the way I do, about people, about love, about acceptance, and compassion.

I lean my head into her lap. He’s using big words but he hasn’t once yet talked of my extraordinary nature. He hasn’t once said what is happening is normal for me. He furrows his brows my direction and I squirm to resist his toxic spell. He hasn’t once mentioned my abilities. He hasn’t once asked me about all the special things I can do. He hasn’t once stopped to talk to me or ask me what I think of this.

Not that I’d bother with him now. He is a monster, and I am angry. He’s mean to me and I wish to escape. I fidget out of mom’s keep and throw a pencil at him. Mommy is startled. I didn’t mean to upset her. I’m so uncomfortable here.

I flush red and monster man jots something on his clipboard. I made it worse, and everything hurts. He’ll lock me away from her and I’m so scared. I’m frustrated but I can’t cry — if I cry, I’ll make it worse. The more confused I get, the more fidgety I become.

He asks me something, but I put my hands over my ears and do not answer. If I pretend he’s not here this will be over. I refuse to look in his wicked face. He’ll hurt me, I’m sure of it.

The room got dark and my heart betrayed me by beating too loudly. It’ll give me away and I’ll never see her again.

But a miracle happened in that moment — something in mommy changed. He’s said something, something wrong. It bothered her more than the other words. I sense her shutting down, the darkness starts to fade.

I feel her wrap around me. She’s on my side, she sees it too. She’s protecting me. She sees me. She really sees me.

The doctor can’t help me, and she knows it now. The monster man is not an answer, for I am highly sensitive and there is no textbook, there’s no medicine, there’s no “cure” for me, because I am not diseased.

The doctor won’t help, he tells her to go and mommy is glad! She smiles and rubs my shoulders. I fill with hope as she signals me, we’ll find another way.

I melt into her, I trust my mommy to be my medicine, together we will work this through.

I’m highly sensitive, undefined, limitless, and beautiful — and I am exactly as I should be. Because the difference is, I am magic and God shaped me this way, so I can heal the whole world, as my mommy can heal me.

For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends The Desire Map: A Guide to Creating Goals with Soul.

Sip a little more:

Let Our Highly Sensitive Children Bloom In Their Power & Divine Right

Are you a Highly Sensitive Person? Learn to harness these 5 superpowers. Keep reading: http://bit.ly/2b68dgG @thugunicorn @theurbanhowl @dharmaunicorn #wakeupanddream

#IAMMAGIC

HOWL WITH US ON FACEBOOKINSTAGRAMTWITTER & PINTEREST.
SPREAD THE MAGIC:

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Pin It on Pinterest

Shares
Share This