You know that day you wake up and realize all the things your friends and family and your not so friends and family always thought of you wasn't you at all. I mean just because I grew up with a flurry of boys for friends and liked to wear my hair short did not mean I had a preference toward either sex, I mean who can define me before I even have a chance to define myself?
Life is funny that way isn't it? From the time we are born every movement and action is judged. I can remember my dad seemingly always pointing me toward his interests, not that I am complaining, but maybe I didn't like fishing for hours on end. I wouldn't change those precious hours for anything, but did I really like fishing, how could I know I was just 5 years old.
Then, there was my mom, who I have to say, raised a pretty awesome 16 year old, if I do say so myself. I could hear whispering to her friends and sometimes, not very quietly, that I liked girls!!! You heard me right, I was around 6 or 7 years old and I guess she overheard me tell a friend of mine that I "liked" girls, but I was 6 and had no idea what liking anyone was other than my parents and my annoying little sister.
I felt like I was spinning in circles with my hands pressed against my face, saying, no not saying, but yelling "But!"
"Hold on, wait a second!"
But no one was listening, so I tucked myself away into my own little corner of the world. The best place a tween can hide...her bedroom.
