I have a deep rooted mistrust of adult humans. It was a lesson I learned as a wee little girl. 

I was a shiny trophy to be seen and not heard. My creation was about ticking a box on my parents' list of goals. I was an extension of my family and their actions were not questioned for I kept on shining. By the time the maggots crawled out of my skin and my souldeath became visible I was old enough to be blamed for what I had become. I grew up among intellectuals and revolutionaries who showered me with affection and wisdom, but failed at protection. I grew enraged at their cowardice, at their weakness. My logic was oversimplified: adults had be rotten to the core if they failed to protect the vulnerable kids they kept bringing into this world.  How could they not see the amazing universes that kept imploding because of their inactions? I know more, now. My logic is more nuanced and I am not always angry. My tribe is made up of incredible adults that I trust and respect. But deep down there is a little girl who still does not trust adults completely; which makes my current adulthood tricky at numerous levels. 

These two doggies witness every single part of me, though; even the parts I haven't learned to trust and accept yet. These two are teaching me how to trust my adult self, my wise mind. As they follow my lead, I learn to trust my self-leadership skills. As they shower me with affection, as they keep me company on good and bad days; the wee little girl grows more confident about my adult capabilities.  Maybe one day her first response to adults we meet won't be defiance and skepticism. Maybe one day she will greet adults with the same joy and acceptance she greets dogs and kids.  

On the left we have Martta, on the right we have Otso and these days #iamhelsinki.