ODE TO MY TRANSITIONAL OBJECT.

Feel so childish talking about my Doudou (French appellation) on the internet right after turning 26.

I know Mom is laughing somewhere.

But let’s do it for the fame.

If you really know me, then you already know I have a particular relationship with mine.

1. What Is a Transitional Object?

That dude Donald Winnicott coined the term “transitional object” to describe something kids carry around to feel safe something that comforts them when they’re lonely, crying, or can’t sleep. It can be anything: commonly a soft toy, sometimes a rough blanket, a ripped piece of clothes or whatever makes them feel secure (hence the name comfort object).

Mom had a tissue that was always in her pocket. She had this fascinating way of slipping it around her fingers while watching TV. I could spend hours just watching her do it. I remember once asking her to teach me.

As I said fascinating. I wonder if she’s still doing it. (Note to self: ask in our next call.)

Anyway, transitional objects are mostly a kids thing to help deal with stress, fear, or anxiety.

As you get older, you’re expected to become stronger. Independent. Emotionally self-reliant.

You're supposed to have transitioned.

2. Turns Out I Have Not Transitioned Yet.

You know, when I was younger, I didn’t realize how deeply attached I was to mine. Looking back, I remember my aunt replacing my cousin’s Doudou every time he lost it or when it got too old. And... he never knew. (Not me dropping my family’s biggest secret... Yeah, sorry Robin. You’ve been so fooled.)

Anyway, that story sounds wild to me because I’ve never even dared think about losing mine. If Mom had tried to change it, I would’ve known from just a look or even a sniff.

Mine has a particular smell. A mix of my own scent and the pressure of love I’ve given it.

My transitional object smells like pure love, pure trust, pure safety. Not sure you could understand.

But that’s exactly how every kind of love should be.

It warms your soul whenever you need it. There’s nowhere safer in the world for me.

It might look like it’s had a thousand lives maybe horrendous to look at (according to my sister) but to me, it looks perfect.

When I used to travel, it stayed in my carry-on. I never trusted those airlines. The 10 years old gangsta me was ready to sue if they dared to lose it.

I must confess that I stopped bringing it not because I didn’t want to, but because I was too afraid it might vanish.

My Conscious whispered: "someone might steal it.", while Reason replied in a condescending tone: "you cant' be serious, girl ?!!?"

So I started sacrificing time with my comfort object, simply because I couldn’t imagine life without it.

Tell me if i sound ridiculous.

3. Why I Still Hold On?

What if I never transitioned because I never saw why I should?

What if there’s nothing weak about needing something small to feel safe in a big, messy world?

I mean, we laugh at adults who carry toys or still sleep with a rough blanket, but maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe keeping a piece of childhood isn’t regression, what about resilience?

This bear has been there for every version of me. It’s been hugged through anger attacks, soaked in tears for hours on Tina Arena "Aimer Jusqu'a L'Impossible"when I was 9, and buried under blankets during insomniacs nights.

And honestly, there’s something really brave about letting yourself still need comfort.

Mom was the first person to teach me what comfort felt like and maybe my Doudou is just her love, stitched into something I could keep forever.

4. Let’s Not Forget the (very short) Ode.

Eh, pretty

Pretty comfy

No arms, but I still feel you

Your smell

A little sleepy

A little warmy

Better than the smell of rain on dry ground

Soft nights only come back

When you do too

Where’s my safety

When you’re not beside me?

Do you miss me like I do?

When I’m gone

And the nights don’t feel quite right?

P.s: my comfort object is a huge teddy bear (not original, I know), and it never had a name.

P.P.S: do you still have yours? Or did you trade it for something a little more grown up but a lot less warm? In other words, have you transitioned ?

xoxo, B