Why does watching a child play cause such a stir?

Read with care, you may find this upsetting.

Today my husband and I spent the evening at his aunt’s house, with lots of his relatives. I was watching his middle aged uncle playing with my husband’s little cousin who is about four years old. Uncle was sitting on the sofa and she was standing with one foot on each of his feet and was leaning in between his legs, across his belly then pushing herself off his legs back into standing position repeatedly, the way a four year old might. He was pretending to be the child and she was being the mummy. He was saying he forgot to do his spellings and could she write him a note for school. It was kinda funny seeing this middle aged man talking like a little kid. He was so good with her. But the longer I watched the more I began to feel some uncomfortable feelings and an inner stirring of ‘parts’.

I was felt suspicious of this man and saw disturbing images in my mind. I could hear the questions: why is he interested in her? Part of me couldn’t imagine how a grown man could be innocently playing with a child. Part of me couldn’t believe that is possible. I felt angry and scared and other feelings that I can’t put my finger on. I felt I should watch intently as I was certain if I watched for long enough I would see some sign of an ulterior motive. I would see a hand in the wrong place or a tickle that just wasn’t quite innocent.

Yet at the same time, another part could see the beauty and innocence of the situation and was reminding me that not all men are like that. That part felt happy to be watching someone taking the time to interact with a small child and thought how lovely it would be to have a father like that.

And then I wondered why I felt these things? Why did I imagine terrible things being done to that child? Why did parts feel upset? Why did I feel suspicious? And that leads on to the usual questions...why do I have parts? Why do I have dissociative identity disorder? I know what the research says about the main reasons it develops in children. I know that there are fragments of memories but they hold no proof. There’s nothing clear cut. Just images of things that don’t seem to be my memories and then memories of things that don’t seem to be bad enough in themselves because of who it involved. And it’s like trying to do a puzzle in my mind when the pieces are only in my mind’s eye and I’m not sure which pieces are real and which are just imaginary and there are far too few to make any sense of.

And it seems to unbelievable to conceive that there may be memories inside that I don’t hold and that I may one day become aware of them. This seems too unlikely. I feel I have all the facts. And then I think I must just be genetically faulted somehow. But if this is the case, why do I feel so bad every time I see a child? Why does this stirring commence?

And then there is a part so separate that doesn’t understand any of this and wonders why I am getting upset about nothing because nothing bad has ever happened to me. And then I feel I must just be making this all up because I am sick. Maybe I have Munchausens. And so it goes on.