Diane, from An-Ya asked me the following (her words are italicized):
"Tell me about you when you were 10. Not quite a little girl...not yet a teen...what were your dreams? Did those dreams come true? Did your dreams change as you entered your teen years? If so, why did they change?"
I was an odd child. All through my childhood, I was strange. Never comfortable in my own skin...embarassed when people noticed me. Fifth grade was no different. I had the stupidest hair cut...ever. And my glasses...well, let's just say, I don't call them "ugly ass glasses" for nothing.
Don't believe me? Take a look at this picture. Second row, second in from the left.
It's okay, you can laugh. Hell, I can laugh now. But back then, I knew I was ugly...knew that I didn't fit in. Knew that my teacher hated me...but that there was nothing I could do about it. I loved the Fall and the Spring when I could escape to the woods and climb trees and make up stories of how I was actually a princess that was being help captive, far from my family and castle. THAT was my dream. That one day, my family would come looking for me and save me from the misery that was my life...a dungeon from which there was no escape.
My dream didn't come true until two years ago. July 11, 2008..the day of first contact with my natural mother. On that day, I was freed from the dungeon.
"If you could travel back in time and talk to yourself...what would you say? What words would you use to comfort your 10 year old self?"
I spend a lot of my therapy sessions comforting my five year old and eight year old selves. I am learning how to give them the love that I lacked from my adoptive parents...and to help them see that I can keep them safe now. That it's 2010 and everything that happened, happened in the past...it's over. I'd tell my 10 year old self to hold on. That one day, she's going to grow up and have friends to talk to and to love her. That it doesn't matter whether the teacher likes her, or teases her for her stutter. None of that matters...because I love her. And I haven't forgotten about her and the pain, loneliness and abuse she's going through.
"10 years old was a hard age for me. I am interested in how it played out for you...and anyone else who is reading along."
Every age was hard for me. Not trying to be a smartass here...it's just how it was. Oddly enough, I don't really have many "memories" of those years, per se. I just remember how I felt. Empty.
Anyone else want to share on the questions that Diane asked me? Feel free to use this as a jumping off point to discuss.
Thanks Diane...I'll be answering the other questions from that post in the coming days.