I barely remember those days, the days when I was young.
Yet; was I ever really young? I don't remember walks in the park, trips to the beach, or even visits to the movie theatre.
Seven little pitter-pattering feet of my siblings and myself,
added to the many temporary visits by the adopted ones
who found my mother,
barely leaving time for the fun little things.
The pennies were scraped to the last bare bone.
Yet, I never wanted for anything, never felt back then that I was missing anything tangible,
just something slightly out of reach.
The only thing that I regret, was missing the hugs which I never got.
My parents were so very busy trying to make ends meet,
so the hugs it seems, were sacrificed for the more practical things.
Teenagers now (growing into pre-adulthood) frantically fighting with their teenage demons,
trying to identify, to grasp how much of a distance they have arrived from,
being like, behaving like and getting away with the levels of accepted key words emanating from their still developing larynx.
I hear them yelling the f#*% words in their rooms or bathrooms
unaware that they can be heard. I say nothing.
There are enough frustrations within those dire circumstances
which warrant the use of an F word or two.
I mean, there are F-wording going on everywhere, television, friends, parents, strangers, books, and even on posters on the streets. One cannot escape it.
Yet, it was not encouraged as the norm while they were growing up. They were instilled with a defining sense of the awareness of right and wrong ways of behaving, while still having the freedom to choose their own path. There was a time of cussing at age six or seven, experimenting with the f-word among others, but they had outgrown it. But now young adulthood looms and the experimenting of boundaries is in full swing.
I am sure that swear words were being practiced a lot lately. so when given razors by her mother, and she had dived headfirst into the beginnings of shaving her entire body, the nicks and bruises evinced the dire necessity for cussing.
I tried telling her that the need for shaving was not necessary on a day-to-day basis, not at her tender age, if you are going to the beach or 'just as needed maybe". She disagreed, asked "why not"? I said "ok, if that is what you wish".
Teenagers...I mean, why bathe, just glide some deodorant onto an already smelly, sweaty armpit, smell out a cleanish tee-shirt, grab the backpack, haul on a pair of sneakers, while just wearing the night-old pajama,
not stopping for breakfast and speeding out the door.
But this teenager, she would bathe for half an hour, emptying the hot water twice over, unless you banged on the door and yelled a lot. So half hour to get ready for school is an anathema to her existence, hence the f-words.
"Wait, get something to eat...."! You may yell.
"I'm late, catch you later"! Would be the response.
"Watch your language"! Goes in one ear and out the next.
The thirteen-year-old young lad (both are almost six feet tall, lean and well-toned, despite not doing a single bit of exercise, except eating, playing video games, going to school or always seated in front of some random tech gadget).
He shot up overnight from 5ft 2' to 5ft 8/9', found out that he had a moustache coming in (one can barely see the tiny brown fuzz) and now struts around feeling his oats and constantly drawing attention to said facts. You won't catch this one cursing the four-letter word, maybe the other f word, he has a strong sense of moral values, unlike the female, who is taller and is quite eager to explore the seamy sides of existence.
When I casually mentioned the use of swear words to the father of the lass, he looked at her sideways with a questioning raise of the eyebrows, he spoke no words, but the swear word changed from f#*% to freak.
I won't even mention the six/seven years old little tyrant, possessing the temper of the devil himself and is already being threatened with boot camp.
These kids who don't care much for hugs, having an abundance of such things around them, or maybe they are just playing hard-to-get, so they get more hugs.
Truth to tell, they are great kids, well rounded, mainly straight A students, just trying to grow into their own flavor of individuality and identity. Far, far ahead of where I was at their age, thankfully.
ME THEN~~~~The contrast
My father wrote the book of curse words. Now, back home, there is a wide and colorful myriad and variety of curse words. He only cursed after he had imbibed a few, mostly on weekends when the paycheck came in. Yet, if he ever heard any of us kids even thinking about cussing, there would have been hell to pay.
My mother was a patient kind Christian woman, not an unkind word, even less so a curse word would ever pass her lips. I never cursed until I arrived in the 'good ole USA', even so, the times when cuss words escape my lips, they do seem a bit odd. I always glance around to see if my father was nearby.
I never cared about shaving my body or cursing, I wrapped my body up in as many layers as I could and prowled about within a thick jungle and wilderness of fog which defined my childhood. I was lost in 'Nancy Drew', 'Superman', 'Batman', and whichever superhero I could get my hands on. Thank God for libraries, I practically lived there.
The words nerd and geek may or may not have existed back then, but I would have definitely fitted into the spectrum. I was very much some small percentage of geek or nerd, I wish I had known it then.
I would have defined my identity much earlier than I eventually did.
Yet, the clincher (a fact, argument, or event that settles a matter conclusively) is that I did, and I have made my peace with being me!
My identity is locked up solidly and now sealed....ok, maybe leaving a little wiggle room for whatever comes what may!!!!!
About the Creator
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