Daughters

When I was 12, I went to a sleepover where the activities entailed dancing to Whitney Houston’s “Queen of the Night”, eating pizza and cokes, and watching scary movies. Fun huh? Well it would have been fun, had the scary movie been of the normal “tween” scary movie selection. You know, Scream, Scooby Doo, House on Haunted Hill..those type movies.

What did we watch?

The Exorcist.

Ok so the effects are cheesy, its horribly dated, the subplots are kinda boring, but that didn’t matter to me. All that mattered that night was a 12-yr-old girl (oh same age as me!) was possessed by the devil and raping herself with a crucifix. Hmmm didn’t get over that for a decade or two.

Honestly, I started developing a phobia of young girls, since they always seemed to be vessels of evil in EVERY MOVIE I SAW. Another reason why I thought I would never have kids. Another reason why I was psyched to have a baby boy.

I wanted nothing to do with the entire mother-daughter horror that the Exorcist represents. I wanted to stay as far away as I could from that awful notion of uncontrollable fear that a mother has when she can’t help her daughter.

Sadly, its something that all parents experience. Maybe not the extent of Exorcist proportions, but sometimes there is nothing you can do for your child. Each time LB wakes up and can’t be calmed, I feel that fear. And even though I am a grown woman, each time I hear a scream from her room, I revert back to my 12 yr old self, feeling the blood drain from my face during that slumber party.

Last night was a quiet one, at least.

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