Childhood
My Merry-go-round Fail
At recess, the boys thought it was great fun to twirl the girls faster and faster on the merry-go-round, as we held on for dear life. It was a boy's wildest dream to send a girl sailing through the air, to her demise... Of course, I was the only girl who ever forgot you should NEVER let go. I don’t 100% recall why I let go after the merry-go-round had gathered too much speed… Looking back, that was just craziness on my part!
By Karla Bowen Herman3 years ago in Confessions
Pedal Pusher Picture Day
In 3rd grade, I wore some capris to school for the very first time; they were hand-me-downs from my cousin. (Of course, back then we called them “pedal pushers”.) As fate would have it, it happened to be Picture Day, the day I wore those pedal pushers. Not understanding that I was supposed to wear them with either anklets, bobby socks, or nothing besides flip-flops; I somehow managed to leave the house without Mama noticing that I had kicked off my flip-flops and pulled up really high fuzzy brown knee socks over the bottom of my red pedal pushers, so my legs wouldn’t get cold. “What kind of mother sends me to school with such high-water trousers?” I wondered.
By Karla Bowen Herman3 years ago in Confessions
The Foulness of Baby Macbeth
To begin with, it should be stated that while most people like babies, nobody likes poop. Personally, I quite like babies; I always have. I have consistently been excited for the arrival of new life, have cooed over young children, have squealed “cute!” in the faces of human offspring who would probably have preferred a less aggressive greeting. I’m a baby person. I am not, nor have I ever been, what I guess you would call “a poop person.”
By Brynne Nelson3 years ago in Confessions
The Bathroom Terror
Like most people, I have a slew of embarrassing moments that haunt my every step, as I make my way into the world of adulthood. But, one of the most embarrassing times for me was when I was a child because unlike most children whose biggest fears were monsters under their beds; mine was going number 2.
By Allison Schafer 3 years ago in Confessions
Little Black Rambo
Our early memories are often defined by a quirky combination of vagueness and distinction. We remember the crux of a context, the emotions that were elicited, but seldom do we recall every specific detail — perhaps because the feelings and the gist is just enough!
By Oscar Richard3 years ago in Confessions
Private humiliation is the worst
I have shared several stories where I was humiliated in public but there is one situation that I brought on myself. I cannot go back and change it but I share so that others may glean from my youthful mistake. When I was in the 8th grade I was 5 foot 1 and weighed about 90 pounds. I was pencil thin and flat-chested and that is truth and not self-depreciation. I had just begun my monthly period while most girls experienced their flow at age 11. I felt different and was shy and quiet and teased a lot.
By Cheryl E Preston3 years ago in Confessions
The Toronto Incident. Second Place in (No) Regrets Challenge.
Memory is a funny thing. It defines so much of our lives. We can remember exactly where we were during historic events like September 11th. Little things, like when we forgot our lines in the third grade play, are also locked away forever in our minds.
By MATTHEW FLICK3 years ago in Confessions
Dear self, you are resilient
Dear self, At just twenty two years of living I deemed you the toughest woman I have ever come across not only for your ability to forgive but your will to choose life. You have been through so much from class bullies to not loving that beautiful smile of yours. From mental & physical abuse to sexual abuse at the hands of a step parent. From those horrible suicidal thoughts to the attempts all the way to experiencing miscarriage at only sixteen years of age and the list could go on. You have been through enough trauma to last one a lifetime but you never let your bright light dim & I commend you for that. It amazes me to watch you walk into each day with your head held the highest while hearing all the negative thoughts going through your head and seeing the realest fake smile on your face. You're resilient and the true queen of overcoming any obstacle in your way. Tayla, other than being tougher than a bull with sharp horns I don’t know how you do it. I don’t know how you could overlook your ptsd, your constant anxiety, depression and your “F the world“ attitude and still manage
By Tayla Fitzpatrick 3 years ago in Confessions
PEE, PEE Time
When I was younger, I moved to a village called Windham. We moved there when I was around 9 or 10 years old. My family was the first out of my extended family to move there. It only took a few months, and almost the whole Sommers side of my family moved to Windham too.
By Laura mclean3 years ago in Confessions
Little Girls Growing Up Too Fast
We were among the lucky children growing up in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, New York. Having New York City for a hometown could be very daunting it was not just your typical hometown with a simple Main Street. Children who grew up in small towns, in my eyes, were the lucky ones where everyone knew each other, and you could have a real sense of belonging.
By Rasma Raisters3 years ago in Confessions