Retrospect

Yesterday I spent hours sorting through a giant box my Mom labeled "Rochelle". Me in a box. There was everything in there from the time I was born until today. I found my hospital bracelet, my first haircut, every report card, schoolwork, playbills...everything. I found myself drowning in a sea of memories good and bad. It was difficult to see everything I've done in my life and wonder if it's really made a difference. My Mom kept everything from old art projects to teacher evaluations. All of which were interesting to read and followed the same pattern. I shuffled through award after award...science, literature, art, creative writing. Graduated with high honors from every school level. Honors at entrance scholarships. Even from the time I was in the 4th grade. I found some national writing evaluation when I was 10 and it sounded like something I'd get from a college professor.

It also brought back all of my self-esteem issues. Immediately after preschool I turned into the proverbial ugly duckling, a phase I feel I am still transforming from. Whether or not I turn into a swan remains to be seen. I don't think I really want to be a swan, maybe something more attainable and unconventional. Although I grew up in a very loving home I lived a cruel childhood. Constantly ridiculed and center of everyone's jokes. So I wasn't a Barbie doll...not even close. But I always had feelings and I can't believe how those feelings can surface after being suppressed for so many years. I laughed with my Mom when we were going through all my old pictures. "How could you let me leave the house looking like this?" She said, "I thought you looked cute." Maybe I did, but only to a mother. Why can't I heal these wounds? Why can't I get past the memories? I haven't felt this insecure for a very long time.

I have to stop now.

To be continued...

Editor's Note, i don't need to say much other than to post these pics of my gorgeous wife; someone tell my wife she's fucking hot now, COME ON!