How do you find yourself at 32?
Small memories of my childhood peak through, occasionally I question if the memories are in fact memories or dreams of what I wished for.
At 4 I tried to suffocate my baby brother by putting a pillow over his bassinet, ok I don’t think in the mind of a 4 year old I had any intentions of hurting him but that’s the way he remembers it.
At 5 I got these cool, probably lame, biker shorts. That’s alllll I wanted for my birthday.
Sometime after that I moved to Oklahoma. I remember a water bed, my little brothers vivid nightmares that terrified me, my aunt coming to visit and letting me have wine coolers, my sister pulling me into the restroom and telling me if anything ever happened to me that I promised to tell her. I had no idea what she was talking about.
At 11 I remember sleeping on the floor. I loved soccer, boys, and my big sister. I couldn’t decide if I was goth, a prep, athletic, or a nerd. Back then at that age you felt like you had to decide. I remember girls running from me so they didn’t have to eat lunch with me. I remember eating against a brick wall with the group that liked to listen to Nirvana and paint their nails black. I remember being called to the office and them telling me that someone said my dad touched me, I lied and said that the bruises were from playing and whoever said that was lying.
At 13 I was distant. I hated life, people, where I lived, my dad. I loved my best friend Andrea and my big brother. Things were never normal. Things were never going to be normal.
I never had the opportunity to figure out who I was, who I am.
I never had the opportunity to be a child, to want to “marry my dad”, to dream of my future husband, white picket fence, and kids running in the back.
32 and soul searching, not feeling sorry, or sorrow. Just wanting the opportunity to know myself. Wanting to know what I wanted to be when I grew up, or my absolute favorite food as a child, maybe even remember a day when I felt beautiful and not shamed or used or violated. Patience.