“There is a cop ahead” I said from the backseat.
“What” my mom said back from the driver's seat.
“There is a cop ahead” I said again with all confidence.
As we rounded the corner we were able to see the cop.
“How did you know that” she asked without looking back.
“I don’t know” I said with little to no emotion.
Weeks later we were driving again. I was looking sideways out of the car.
“There is a cop ahead” I said.
“What” my mom said back to me from the driverseat.
“Yes” I said and went back to looking out the window.
Moments later she saw the cop.
“Erin, how do you know that” she asked, again without turning to look at me. This time, I could feel her eyes on me from the rearview mirror but I did not look up. I was thankful that she wasn’t turning to look at me, somehow it made the conversation less real.
“I don’t know”
Silence.
I continued to call out when cops were ahead of us on the road. When I was a young teen she asked me again. “How do you know when there is a cop”
“I think that they must have a radar in their car that my body can feel because it makes my heart feel funny” I said back with a question mark in my voice.
“Ok” she said without more discussion. I appreciated the lack of conversation, because I was out of answers and she knew it.
I didn’t understand at the time that I was listening to my body. I have done it all of my life and as a child and young adult I had little understanding of what I was doing. In my 30s I got a crash course in listening to my body.
