Strength, Little One

When the voice first whispers to you, in the shadows of your mind, it says Strength, little one. I am with you. The voice is calm and gentle as it says this, and it feels like lying on the beach as the warm tide washes around you when the voice tells you it's name. It's not the last time the voice will speak to you, but it is the first and so you always remember how it felt.
The next time it comes, you are crying in the dark, quietly so your parents in the next room won't hear and ask you what is wrong. You don't have the words to tell them.
Strength, little one, I am here.
It only make you cry harder because you don't know how to be strong, you are only a soft child unused to the sharp words and deeds of those who share your species.
I will teach you how to be strong, little one.
There is promise in that voice, and so you believe it. That night the voice only whispers the stories your mother read to you when you were much younger, until you fall asleep and dream of floating in a warm, dark sea as you look up at the starry night sky. The lessons come later, the next night as you wait patiently. You will repeat them like a mantra in your head in the coming days, as you become crafty and strong.
Make people laugh, even at your own expense. When someone hurts you, the others will take revenge in your place. No one likes it when their clown is hurt.
Make an inner landscape, know every detail of the rocks and trees. As they laugh at you and say unkind things, retreat to that place where no one can find you. Feel their laughter and words as wind that causes no pain.
Learn the words that will shock them, but use them rarely.
Never let your anger turn inward.
The voice saves your life and continues to do so as you grow.