Orgin Of Insecurity

Being the 5th child born to a family of 8 isn't easy.  I was the 5th GIRL; must have been frustrating for my parents since they were trying for a boy since the beginning.  The growing pressure of society, I must assume, has made it unbearable to have delivered all females and not one single boy in the 6 years of being in the land of the free.  I really don’t know how to start this journey of confession… I’m ashamed of what might become of it.  Inspired by Awkward. MTV’s television show, I’ve wondered what truth might be out there.  I have very few memories of my parents and I at age 4 and younger.  The memories that I have endured are not of that of a fairytale, nonetheless, I hope I understand my underlining cause when it comes to decision making as an adult.
I remember changing and accommodating to what IT needed.  My first memory of realization was asking, “Is this ok?”, “What about this one?” out of sincere concern.  Little did I know what was actually happening, I was finding and changing into what was expected of me, I was genuinely excited.  What was to come?
Mom and Pop was out, what it entailed I can only imagine, gambling, drinking, and or spousal abuse.  My first encounter with spousal abuse was when Pop was chasing Mom around our one bedroom house that circled every room.  You’d pull up into this long drive way, a lot of two houses both with tiny backyards and a front yard either to the left or right.  Our front yard was to the left, as if you were staring directly at the gates of hell.  The house may have appeared serene, white with baby blue trimming, was hell in the making.
As you entered the front door you are now in the living room.  The door to your right is to the one HUGE bedroom that has an entry leading to the bathroom.  When looking ahead you can see the counters that belonged to the kitchen, no door necessary.  Then comes the sliding glass doors’ leading to the tiny, very tiny, backyard, which I can’t remember anything about.  Although one memory wants to emerge, I can’t differentiate if it was at my cousin house (later down the road) or my actual backyard.  Anyways… the kitchen then had a door to the bathroom.  So of all the rooms in the house, the bathroom had two doors.  I was a loop, round and around they go.  Is this why I LOVE carrousels?  I can’t imagine that it is.
heartacheofeverykind heartacheofeverykind
Sep 13, 2012