Honestly, as I sit here and think back I can’t remember a time I didn’t feel insecure. I remember in preschool feeling like everything was more important than me to my family. Almost like I was invisible. My dad was gone a lot, my mom always had meetings or bowling and Jim was just always bigger than life. I remember feeling like I was always being somewhere else growing up: dance, baton, bluebirds, Indian princesses, the neighbor’s, Grandma’s. I know that can’t be all there was, but it’s what sticks out in my head. I also know now, as a mom, that it was probably more that my parents wanted me to have every opportunity rather than “getting rid of me,” but at that time, I didn’t see it and it started an insecurity that just grew. I also know that my dad was sick during my growing up years and my parents tried to keep me from the reality of how hard it was; to protect me. I think, though, that in my little head I believed everyone was keeping secrets from me. I know as I got older, it didn’t feel like protection, it felt like they didn’t trust me.
No comments:
Post a Comment