Trauma

Your trauma is valid.

Your feelings are valid.

Your emotions are valid.

You are valid.

Here's the thing:

No one gets to tell you if your trauma is or is not valid.

Just like you don't get to tell anyone whether or not you hurt them.

If they say you did, that's valid.

If you are dealing with trauma from 41 years ago, it is still valid.

If you are dealing with trauma from yesterday, but you really can't deal with it right this minute, it is no less valid.

And, moreover (yup, totally using big words here),

If there are people in your life who are not allowing your trauma to be valid, who are invalidating your feelings because they don't want it to reflect badly on them - those are not your people.

Boundaries, People.

Boundaries.

My Primary class is epic.

Like, these are my people.

Seven and eight year olds.

You know why?

They are smart and feisty and REAL and emotional and sassy and bright and innocent and just so wondrous.

I especially love non-neuro-typical kiddos.

I have one such wonder in my class.

Sunday, my little wonder was struggling a little bit.

Yelling, screeching, hitting his head, struggling to stay in his seat.

Let's be honest:

We ALL feel that way often.

He is just so magnificent in his ability to act on it.

I was standing, teaching.

That teaching word right there is being used VERY loosely.

I noticed three other eight year old's suddenly staring, with questioning, yet loving, big eyes and open mouths.

I stopped in my tracks.

I put my hand gently on his head, as to remind him that he is grounded, that I am right there, that he is safe, and seen and heard and validated.

Then, I loudly - over his screeches - asked, "Is J distracting to you?"

They nodded, while still watching him.

Then I asked, "What do you love about our J?"

The answers were such eight year old answers, I marveled.

I teared up.

I stood, in awe of these children who were expressing exactly what they thought.

People, their answers were:

I like that J can act how he feels in his head.

I like that J sits with us in the circle now.

I like that J sits down when the teacher asks him to.

I like how J likes the blue crayons the most.

I like how J uses his words.

Me too, Loves.

Me too.

He calmed down immediately.

The "lesson" was then over. 

Because the real lesson, the lesson that all of us needed that day, had just been taught.

In fact, I was not the teacher after all.

These little stars were.

They see J.

They hear J.

They validated J.

In that moment, with no prodding from their parents, or even their "teacher."

I simply expressed to them in that moment that I believe we are the luckiest class in the whole Church because we have J and R and P and K and B.

And do you know what they said, almost in unison??

We are the luckiest because we have YOU.

That is validation.

In the simplest, most pure form.