I am smaller than her. She has about 6″ on Me, she can wrap her arms around Me and hold Me a lot easier than I can her – not that she does, I am the big spoon, and I like it that way. I am just very conscious of My size. I haven’t hated being short really before now, I often worry I don’t make her feel safe, or protected, and that’s what Daddy’s are for? Isn’t it?
And then we went to Vancouver. We saw her favourite audience, 3 rows from the front, and it was in a big city. We had to take public transit, and there were a lot of people. We got off the ferry, and I ushered her onto the bus, into the back corner. I had her beside a window, saw she was anxious, had her get her headphones and she zoned out for a bit. It was in that moment that I felt like I was protecting her, I wasn’t doing anything other than making sure she was as comfortable and safe feeling as possible in an otherwise uncomfortable situation.
I still wish I was taller. I still wish I could easily throw her to the ground and pin her. I am doing pushups, and strengthening My body in order to do so – but at least, through logistics alone, I can make her safe sometimes. I am her protector, and I hope she always feel safe in My arms.