Page 8 of Stripping Little Seraphina
Mistress V. It had to be. I hadn't had any visitors at all since I'd been here and now my doormat had more trips than I dared count.
I opened the door and we both froze. Her eyes, tired but focused, swept over me. I knew I must look ridiculous—pigtails slightly crooked, stuffy still clutched, eyes red. Though I had no idea who she truly was, something in me still yearned for her to make all of this right. Sure, I was physically attracted tothe beautiful African American goddess standing in front of me. However, I couldn’t dare to daydream about someone who had been so careless with her responsibilities.
“I came to apologize, again.” she said softly. “I shouldn't have assumed. That’s on me.”
I opened my mouth, but the words tangled in my throat.
Mistress V lifted a slim paperback and held it out between us. The cover was whimsical, pastel-colored.The Playful Guide to Littles & Middles.My breath caught.
“I think this might help,” she said. “It explains things better than I probably can right now. At the end, there’s a questionnaire. Do it. When you’re done… text me. I’ll come back. We can talk. Maybe over dinner.”
I raised a skeptical brow. “Dinner?”
Her mouth tugged into the faintest smile. “Nothing fancy. Just… sandwiches, snacks, dessert. A picnic. I’ll bring everything we need. If nothing else, it’ll make you laugh. Plus, eating is necessary, yeah?”
I hated how the corner of my lips twitched, betraying me. I swallowed hard, hugging my stuffy closer. “Fine. But I’m not promising anything.”
“Fair enough.” She didn’t push. She just placed the book in my hands, gave a small nod, and stepped back into the hall. No lecture. No smugness. Just space.
After she left, I curled beneath my blanket, I cracked the book open. At first, it felt like a silly thing to read—cartoon doodles, lighthearted examples, metaphors about “big shoes” and “small hearts.” But the more I read, the more it pressed against my ribs. It felt familiar as if this book was specifically about me. It discussed the highs and lows of discovering who you are. Shame, guilt, anger… but also joy, gratefulness, and pride.
Littles thrive when their inner playfulness is honored. A caregiver’s job is not to control, but to protect and nurture. Discipline, when used, is rooted in love and guidance, never shame.
My throat burned. I thought of my parents, forever pointing out how much more Josephina sparkled. I thought of Mistress V’s sharp words yesterday, the way she’d dismissed Emerson’s struggles. I thought of how good it would feel if just once, someone looked at me and said,you’re enough.
At the back was a “Traffic Light Test”—a page full of boxes and prompts. I almost laughed. But there definitely was a stuffy already on my lap, a sign that maybe Mistress V was on to something. So I clicked a bright pink pen, flipped open my decorative notebook, and started.
Being read to at bedtime.–Green. My cheeks warmed. The soothing sensations of being cared for in that way resonated deep in my core. Having that perfect way to wind down at night seemed so silly, but I knew it had to be one of the best feelings.
Having my hair brushed, cuddles on the couch.–Green. My chest ached. I sighed remembering loving this same thing growing up. My mother would do it before bedtime and I’d always sleep so much better when she had time for this. It was something I truly missed, a way to bond with her without words. No shame or expectations.
Being told “good girl”.– My breath hitched.Green. The shiniest of greens. They could probably see how excited I was from the moon.
I pulled my blanket tighter around me, seeking the comfort of it. Though no one else was here, I felt exposed. Vulnerable. So much so that I glanced around to make sure that I was truly by myself and there wasn’t someone lurking around. These questions made my mind stir, my soul ache, and I couldn’t seem to shake the loneliness that had settled inside and hugged me from within. Was it possible to have all these things? Was it too silly to hope that I could find someone who could satisfy all of the desires that I tried to hide from the world?
Rules. Bedtimes. Chores.–Yellow. I wasn’t sure. The word chore felt heavy and like weeks of doing somebody else’s laundry. However, having someone else make the rules felt freeing. I functioned better in life when I didn’t have to make big decisions. Sure, at work it was fine, but at home, I wanted that option far removed.
Scolding or being denied sweets.–Yellow. The idea made me squirm. Why would we ever take away one of the sweetest joys of life? Desserts.
