Caution: This is a work in progress!
November/December 2008
When I was six years old I learned that love can really change your life. My older sister, my idol, my role model, left. And part of me died. My sister took with her everything that I aspired to be, everything that I was. That day I decided that I wouldn’t ever let that happen again. I shut out all emotion, so no one could ever hurt me like that again. It was hard, and I cried when I was alone. My Dad couldn’t support my mom, I think he died before I was born, but I’ve never asked. My mom had no one but me and my sister. She depended on us, despite her hard image. When Stacy left Mom was a mess, there was no hiding it. She would lay on her bed and sob for hours, forgetting me, forgetting herself. Finally when she stood again she looked stronger. She had learned from her mistake. She tried not to depend on me, but as I grew from a child into a young woman that got harder and harder. Occasionally when she thought I was asleep she would sit outside again and cry, I can’t imagine what it was like for her. Growing up is never easy when you depend solely on yourself, the expression ‘children are cruel’ is truer than thought. But for all the snide insults I endured I kept silent. Mom needed none of my childhood drama. So I kept it inside, all bottled up. Sometimes it felt like I would explode from everything I hid from the world, from all the unruly emotions I had yet to contain. But never did I let anyone see my weakness.
