Letting myself fall in love

Falling in love is one of the greatest and most intimate gifts we are given.  Humans claim to fall in love and I would argue that other creatures do as well.  To do so is to give a piece of yourself, a big piece, to someone else.  Doing so puts you at risk, makes you vulnerable, and to a certain extent makes the intimate and private rather public, or at least shared.  For many people, particularly those in my generation falling in love is a difficult decision, we keep ourselves guarded waiting for that someone special to come along, or we give in, fall in love, and then wait and see if that love holds or not.  While I don't usually share my most intimate thoughts and feeling this post seems to need them.

In my few years on this earth I have only fallen in love a few times.  I actually have yet to experience falling out of love, I believe that love stays with you and shifts its form as you grow, meet new people and experience new things.  Most of us grow up loving our families (biological or not) but after that, we choose who we love. I have been reluctant, at best, to put myself in situations where my heart is at stake.  Finding the "worth" of love has been difficult for me and so I have kept myself quite reserved. Those times that I did take the leap, stay with me as the best moments of my life and the deepest attachments I have with other people.  The most recent has been a young girl, age 2 1/2 and she has taken my heart in more ways than one.  Tene is my youngest host sister in Botou.  She is learning to speak and her vocabulary is expanding by leaps and bounds every day.  She is my favorite Senegalese dancer and she runs like the wind.  She and I spend lots of quality time together. Unlike other people in our family I do not reprimand her physically.  She is young and in my mind still needs the comfort and security of people that love her and lots of verbal attention. She is a fast learner and eager to become a Senegalese woman, but also still a toddler.  She comes to me for safety, sleep, and siips (cheese puffs).  Recently a few of my volunteer friends made the trip to Botou for a visit.  One of them commented on how well Tene and I get along and said that she was happy to see that I've let myself get attached.  Often volunteers choose to keep a certain distance from the people they are close to because they know that they are not permanent and that as transient beings, leaving is the hardest part.  I disagree, I understand the sentiment, but for me there has been something powerful for me to become attached.  The power of letting myself love and my ability to watch as Tene reciprocates has been one of the biggest blessings of my service so far.  It took me awhile to come to this state. I was reluctant at first when she only referred to me as -Tar, referring to the volunteer before me.  Then I was on the fence because, yes she is adorable, but was that all she was to me?  When she began to communicate and I saw a light in her eyes when she spoke, when she used her hands to talk to our deaf aunt, and her reaction to me upon my return from other cities or the bush I realized that I had to let myself fall.  And so here we are.  She is quite the talker and recently I was trying to ask her if she had any other young friends that she could play with, while I or her siblings were at work or at school.  She thought about it for a moment and then looked up at me and said, but you are my friend.  I tried to explain that I would be leaving in a year and that she would need to find some other people to play with.  She wouldn't have any of that talk so I left it alone.

It will be one of the hardest things I have ever done to leave Tene and Botou next year.  But falling in love with Tene is one of my most treasured accomplishments.  She has been added to my list of few that have made their way into my heart.