Pride and Horcruxes

Horcruxes are evil (obvs) and reincarnation can’t happen until after you’re dead. So… how do I explain my little friend Emily Grace?

Me and Emily 2013

First, do you follow my friend Emers Lemers over here? You should. She’s amazing. Also, she’s eight. EIGHT. And she writes crazy insightful stuff like this post about swallowing your pride. At eight. (Can’t stop saying eight. EIGHT.)

My entire life, I hated group work. I hated it because I had to do all the work. You know, because everyone else was dumb, no one else could do it, and I wanted a good grade. (Please note: I’m being facetious, not an a-hole.)

It wasn’t until I started blogging at nearly 30 that I realized maybe I was wrong… that maybe my introversion made group work hard for me, but that friends and relationships are vital and necessary and unbelievably important because everyone has their own unique set of strengths and weaknesses. Strengths and weaknesses that should be recognized, appreciated, and embraced, not picked apart.

What if I had recognized all of that some 22 years earlier? What if I had recognized even some of that 22 years earlier?

Emily Lema… that’s what.

I talked a bit about my struggle with infertility yesterday (don’t worry, I’m not done– just taking a break as I recover from the extreme cramping that comes with an HSG), but why, I wonder, do I feel the need to have a child of my own, when clearly, a child of my heart has already been created by someone else?

Emily is like a horcrux– a place where I store a piece of my soul. As long as she is around, I will go on. Emily is like a reincarnation of myself, a chance for my soul to walk the earth once again, except I am still very much alive. So what is she then?

A kindred spirit? A bosom buddy? A soulmate? Just amazing?

Who knows– but I’m glad that she is. And I’m crazy glad that I know her, that I have known her since she was a mere babe, and that I’m going to get to watch her grow up with such intense fascination. She is family to me.

They say that our lives are “unrepeatable experiments lacking a control” and it’s true. But Emily is kind of a second trial of my experiment, with the conditions tweaked a bit. And this is my chance to know– what if at the age of 8, I had been capable of recognizing my need to swallow my pride and to give other people a chance? Emily will teach me. I can’t wait.

Me and Emily 2011

PS: I already know that my Emily girl is a real big Harry Potter fan, but will she dig Jane Austen, too? All signs point to yes, only time will tell!

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