Life Changing Moments

Memory is a fickle thing. There are so many life changing moments that I cannot remember. The first time I laughed, the first time I cried or was angry, the time I took my first steps, the first time I read a book, or the first time I ate chocolate cake. There are so many moments that I have forgotten even though they changed my life.

There are moments that I can imagine remembering too. Stories I’ve heard so often, pictures I have looked at so frequently it is like I can remember being there, the memories that are hazy around the edges and live in my mind alone. These are the funny things I said in my youth that have become stories repeated to anyone who will listen, acts of generosity or love or sadness that were so unexpected they became engrained in the telling of my history, and experiences fun or painful that I used to remember but no longer can. These memories are viewed from afar, like watching another’s life on a screen that is not quite in focus. They are my own life changing moments, but I can’t quite grasp them.

Of course, there are plenty of life changing moments that I can remember. I remember my mother’s wedding and I remember the first play I acted in. I remember my first audition for honor choir, and I remember my first dance recital. I remember the first time I got an “F” on an assignment. I remember the first time I listened to KPop and I remember the first time I drank boba tea. These are all moments that changed my life that I truly own.

But what happens when memory fails you? When you remember and can’t remember at the same time. I lived in an abusive relationship for almost a year without realizing it. My mind worked to block all the bad memories and only remember the good ones, the moments of love and care and respect. Maybe it worked too well. It took a year before those memories could begin to surface again. When I began to talk about them, I realized for the first time that I had been abused and the people I was talking to pushed me to file a report, so I did.

But then I started questioning my memory, my friends started questioning my memory, the school questioned my memory and threatened to suspend me for bullying a fellow classmate. Did it really happen the way I remembered or was my mind twisting my memory so I could take revenge on an innocent boy who broke my heart, a twisted way of protecting myself? I remember I said “No,” I remember I didn’t want it, I remember pain, I remember crying, and I remember him promising it would not happen again. I remember it happening anyways. But I can’t remember if I made myself clear enough. Was my “No” clear enough? Strong enough? I don’t remember if I encouraged him or misled him either. With so many saying “it is her fault because…” I couldn’t remember if it was my fault or not. Whether I wore clothes that were too tempting or if I lead him on. I remember enjoying it once. I remember feeling the pressure to do it even when I didn’t want to. I remember feeling fear. I remember holding back information to protect a boy I still loved.

Now, several years later, my memory is failing again. It wants to remember the good again but knows too much of the bad. I know my memory is right. That it was not my fault. So, my memory provides new memories, ones that could be good. It sends me dreams that feel so real, when I wake, I have a hard time remembering what is real and what is not. But there is always a feeling of fear, of dread, that taints these good dreams, reminding me that they are not real memories.

Memory is a powerful thing. There are many events that changed my life that I cannot remember, but they changed my life none-the-less. Memory doesn’t have the power to decide what changes your life. But memory has the power to decide how it changes your life. Once upon a time the first taste of chocolate cake that I can no longer remember, was a memory that brought happiness. Now I eat chocolate cake to celebrate life.

When memory changes, it has the power to change how life has been lived. I remember being a girl who was simply in love and I remember being a girl who lived as a victim. I remember being a girl who wanted revenge and I remember being a girl who tried to protect a boy who might have loved her once.

Memory might have the power to change how I see the life I have lived, but I have the power to choose how I live my life moving forward. One day I will remember being the girl who lived a life full of happiness and purpose despite the memories that haunted her and tried to change her life.