“I don’t want to drink my milk. I don’t want to grow.
I don’t want to get too heavy. I don’t want to get bigger.”
“I want to go to heaven. I wish I could just die now.”
At first glance, these are alarming sentences from a five-year-old.
Eating disorder? Body image, less common in boys but still possible? God, help me… does he not want to live anymore?
I probed gently into these topics, maintaining an expression of zero concern. I didn’t want him to put his words away if he thought the sight of them would scare me.
“Tell me more about that, buddy.”
“I don’t want to grow because I don’t want to be too big when I get to heaven. If I’m too big, then I can’t play horsey with Daddy. I wish I could just go now, while I’m still small, while he can still lift me.”
Oh, Tyler. My heart breaks with the things that worry you
“Buddy, I have good news: in heaven, every daddy can hold his son. It doesn’t matter how big you are or how old he is – none of that matters there. You can wrestle and play, climb all over him, and he’ll know just who you are and how you love to play.”
“So I can drink my milk?”
“You can drink your milk.”