Subject: Speaking as another fairly self-reliant kid...
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Posted on: 2021-03-04 02:34:31 UTC

For context, my mom likes to tell the story of my first day of preschool. She stuck around for a while to make sure I was okay, as good parents will do. My response was to ask her, confused, "Don't you have somewhere to be?" So she figured I was fine and left me to it. {= )

And for the most part, I'd say I was fine playing with friends or entertaining myself as I chose until it was time to go home. That doesn't mean I didn't look forward to it, too—and it was definitely important to know that I would go home, because my parent(s) would come to get me. I remember a few times I was one of the last kids at after-school daycare, sun going down and supervisors getting increasingly anxious, which was never fun; and there was one occasion when my dad was so late picking me up from after-school choir practice that I up and walked to my mom's house (it was closer) by myself. I wasn't super-young at the time, something like 10 to 12 (old enough that I could manage it, young enough that the adults were properly terrified while no one knew where I was), so it wasn't traumatizing, but it was deeply unpleasant.

Basically, I was fine as long as I knew the plan and that's what happened. I was even pretty okay if the plan got thrown off a bit. But that's because I had the security of knowing that I had somewhere good to go and people who cared that I got there. It would be a totally different story without that baseline stability.

And, returning to the less-heavy point I meant to make: I still looked forward to going home even when I was happy at school or daycare. It's where my bed and my pets and most of my stuff was. {= )

~Neshomeh

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