"Like assholes..."

To think of not getting something as a child, now being an adult, is like asking a hypothetical question. I think back and know I was never without what was necessary. I may not have had the most stylish clothes or shoes, but I was clothed. Although we were poor, it seems we always had the best meals. My mother always had a garden which gave plenty of color to our plates every night. We were poor, but healthy. Don’t get me wrong; at the time I thought my life was a drag. Wearing hand-me-downs was not my idea of fashion. Eating the same type of dinner got boring. There was plenty I did not get as a child, but my health was always good.


Perhaps my emotional health was not so good. As a child, I was not allowed to communicate, but I was to obey my parents, no matter what. My voice had no opinion. It was allowed a “yes-mam” and a “no-mam” and a right and wrong. I was usually wrong. If something was not Godly, it must have been the devil that made me do it.

I learned to bottle my opinions inside until I could empty them on my book that I hid from my mom. Along with my thoughts, I hid my secrets. My opinions were secrets. Just like the Victoria’s Secret catalog I hid. My mother never understood what feeling pretty was like, at least in my opinion. Beauty was a curse and lingerie was bad. I was not heard. I wanted an opinion as a child. Perhaps now I will never run out, so many lay hidden, paged in a box.