Check out the latest post from world changer, abuse fighter, soon-to-be-published author, and my friend Marquita DeJesus. Be sure to purchase her book, “Radically Ordinary“, which will be released September 2, 2014.

The sun beats down mercilessly on the parched North Texas earth below. I inhale the salty, thick air and silently thank God for the invention of mango slushies. I grip the spoon and taking in one final gulp, I swish the icy goodness around my mouth and embrace the fleeting moment of relief.
The condensation from the plastic cup seeps beads coolness into my warm skin. I exhale. Rising from the park bench and heading to the nearest recycling bin, I toss my empty cup while ducking under nearby, shabby suburban trees struggling to provide sparse shade.
Suddenly, my attention is turned towards my daughter Emmy whose whimsical playtime has been brought to an abrupt and immediate stop. She is wagging her finger into the face of another kid who it would seem has pushed her out of the way in order to be first in line to slide.
Emmy will not go down without a fight. She is her mother’s daughter.
I draw my parenting from the school of thought that says, “If it ain’t broke or bleeding, don’t step in.” From a safe distance, I watch with curiosity as the other kids are drawn into Emmy’s soliloquy of anguish.
“You don’t touch me, because I’m the boss of my body,” Emmy dictates with all the passion and attitude that accompanies the age of five.
I smile.
I began teaching Emmy, and later Elle, that she was the boss of her body after returning from Cambodia in 2010. My heart’s desire was to protect my child, but more than that, I wanted to empower her to protect herself. Afterall, it is her body, and I wanted her to know that she has a say in what happens to it.
Emmy, who since birth has been desperate to be the boss of anything, soaked up the opportunity happily and let’s everyone know upon first meeting that she is the boss of her body. Her declaration is typically met initially with uncomfortable laughter, but always provides an opportunity for me and Daniel to share with caretakers Emmy’s body safety rules as well as our affirmation that she is indeed the boss of her body.
After Emmy finishes, a stunned audience of preschoolers watch with bewilderment as she gregariously steps forward to take her turn on the slide. Hands overhead, she innocently raves as she slides down to the bottom. Laughing, she jumps up and runs to me, arms wrapping around my waist. I reach down and pat her soft hair which is always a little curly following outdoor playtime.
I embrace the moment and hope that her loud voice remains obstinate in her protection of herself.