Tiny Alien Imposter

When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to be grown. I had lots of expectations:

  • I’d be a rich and famous singer, actress and dancer.
  • I’d be beautiful. I’d be slender and have big breasts and long hair.
  • I wouldn’t be afraid of the dark anymore. I wouldn’t be afraid of anything.
  • I’d have a handsome and dashing husband, and we’d live happily ever after.
Tiny alien directing an old man's body.

Inside it's a tiny alien.

Last night I had an extremely difficult and painful conversation with my husband. I was surprised at how small I felt inside. Like that tiny alien on Men in Black II. Like a 5-year-old, dressed up in a 38-year-old body. A small imposter, very much afraid of the dark.

Do you remember that paralyzing childhood fear? I remember being terrified that something was under the bed or in the closet. The fear was so intense that I could not move–not even to avoid wetting the bed. It took all my willpower to cry out for my mother.  

I wonder if my maturity will ever match the years on the calendar. I wonder if anyone can see that I’m just a baby. Most days I try to hide it, but sometimes I want to be rightly seen. That way someone can let me be small and scared, and they’ll hold me and tell me it’ll be okay. And because I’m just a little one, I’ll believe it.

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2 thoughts on “Tiny Alien Imposter

  1. Harnew says:

    I’ve been looking for this picture. Must steal it

  2. omalone1 says:

    the adult, parents and the child. do we ever leae these aspects of the self? I think we just pretend to have intergrated them sufficiently, but the intimate self remains fractured, tormented, futile and terrorised

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