I grew up in a happy home: I had loving parents, wonderful grandparents and a home filled with laughter and music (one thing I remember clearly, daddy loved music!)So basically, I can't blame my parents or my childhood for the things that happened to me and the decisions I made, I screwed up my life all on my own!
God had always been a part of my life. I was part of a Christian household, we attended church, I was baptized etc. but I never had a personal relationship with God. I never made my own a decision to follow Him. . . But more about that later.
When I finished Gr3 we moved to a different city. My dad had been offered a new position at work. So, that meant new house, new neighbourhood, new friends, new everything! I didn't mind much though, I was pretty happy go lucky!
Primary school pretty much came and went.The only issues I really had was keeping friends, and I was kind of invisible. I always wanted to be seen. Not fitting in was something that bothered me. I wasn't as skinny as the other girls, my hair didn't look like theirs, I didn't dance as well as they did, the boys didn't like me as much as they liked them, I got told I was irratating, I spoke too much, and I laughed funny. I was the one who would regularly be targetted when they played pee-shooting games (and it wasn't always with little pieces of paper), I don't even remember how many times they made me cry. . . Hiding unhappiness was something I was good at though, even from myself.
I had a new best friend every year. . . I had one boyfriend in school, who ended up leaving me for my best friend at that stage. And it seemed to me that only the dorky boys crushed on me, and I wanted to be cool. . .
A highlight of my gr 7 year: My so called best friend at that stage, Lucy (for my own safety, and the safety of others I'm using fictitious names), started writing me horrible letters about how bad and stupid and irratating I was (some best friend hey), but anyway, my mom found the letters in my suitcase and decided to phone her mom and do something about it. When I found this out, I was very mad of course. . . Lucy showed up the next day at school with puffy red eyes. Her mom had decided to deal with her on the way to school that morning. So obviously it was all my fault, that was the worst day of my primary school career. The girls harrassed me, chased me all the way to the bathroom. My brother got so scared that he ended up phoning my mom.
I started conforming to the way us kids thought we should be, too be cool. I succeeded, and I had been chosen as a prefect, so by the end of Gr7 I was pretty cool, not as much as the group, but I was getting there. . . Dunno how many masks I was wearing though. . .
So life at school. . . it basically Sucked!
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