Childhood

springhaven
I’ve trained myself to ignore the shitty things my dad does, and I fucking hate it. Tonight - we were about to watch TV. Mom had just hit play on the movie (an old western - we’d all seen it about a hundred times), and she headed back into the kitchen to grab the plates of dessert for her and my dad. He walked into the den a moment after - his entrance was marked by immediate heavy breathing, an aggravated huffing and puffing as he rushed over to the TV. He started muttering to himself, fumbling with the DVD player in an attempt to eject the disk.
By Savannah Sveta3 years ago in Confessions
Borders
The arbitrary border between Mexico and Texas has led to the separation between the culture I was born into and the culture my ancestors struggled to cultivate. While media doesn’t differentiate between Mexicans and Mexican Americans, I have felt the sting all too often. I am too brown to be among white people and not brown enough to be among my fellow Mexicans. I can’t handle spicy food, guacamole tastes like vomit, and my Spanish, no matter how much I work on it, will always sound different from someone born in Mexico.
By C.M. Vazquez3 years ago in Confessions
How Boy Bands Saved My Life
I don’t remember much about my childhood anymore. I think I was happy, mostly. Except even then I sobbed whenever I made a mistake, a foreshadowing of the anxiety disorder I would one day develop, so deeply consuming that it would haunt me in everything I went. Around puberty, I started to crumble. There were many reasons, not the least being simple biology. My parents fought frequently and I needed something to drown them out, to help me escape for a moment. I needed to be able to find peace in the chaos of my house. I needed to find freedom.
By C.M. Vazquez3 years ago in Confessions
Twenty-Something
Here's the thing about me: I'm a mom, but I'm also 25. Moreover, I'm a 25-year-old mom in 2022. I'm physically attractive, with a thick accent and a people-pleasing mentality caused by years of mental and physical abuse. This matters because without meaning to, I construct a perfect companion for whoever it is I'm talking to. I nod my head, I grin just wide enough, I take my glasses off at just the right time to reveal the eyeliner I've carefully used to round out my almond shaped eyes in just the right places. Conventionally, I'm attractive. In the ways that count. In the ways that get me laid.
By Gypsy3 years ago in Confessions
The Rules
My mom says that it is a universal experience to be lonely, awkward, anxious, unaware. That I was not the only fifteen-year-old uncomfortable in her skin.
By Caroline Mckenna3 years ago in Confessions
One hell of a ride!
...and keep your hands & feet inside the ride at all times! Hi! My name is Candie and this is essentially going to be a continuous brain dump of memories and emotions, journaling, poetry/prose, etc. as I work through my childhood trauma, heal old wounds and embark on the epic adventure of figuring out who the f*** I really am underneath all the pain, anger, sadness, etc. *insert any other drowning, smothering, suffocating negative emotion here* FINALLYYY at *almost* 35 years old.
By Candria Jayde3 years ago in Confessions
I HATE MY BODY
I’ve never felt sexy. I’ve never looked at My body and thought “damn you sexy”. I’ve never felt like a sexy goddess when I was sharing my body with someone else.
By Bekka Maree3 years ago in Confessions
Never Miss the Bus
You’ve always ridden the bus after school. Friends were on there. All of you would shout and jump around the torn leather seats, anxious to get home --- to get away from school. But today you didn’t ride the bus.
By Kevin B. Jones3 years ago in Confessions
To my ancestors
I used to be afraid of dead people. I’m not anymore. In fact, anyone who knows me now, probably knows I have a healthy relationship with the dead.
By Jennidoll of (jennidoll.inc)3 years ago in Confessions
Confessions of a 30-Something Guy Who Looks 20-Something at Most
Less than a week from now is my 35th birthday (though most people don’t see it at first if they either didn’t know beforehand or aren’t told until after our first meeting), and the closest I’ve had to a relationship is a brief, hypothetical long distance QPP.
By Orion J. Zed3 years ago in Confessions
Learning to Ride a Bike: From Grazes to Glee
Like many of you, no doubt, my inauguration into the world of cycling as a child was a painful one. My friend David was a year younger than me, but already he was tearing around the streets on a small bike with chunky pneumatic tyres. I’d had several attempts at riding on two wheels, but I just didn’t get it.
By Joe Young3 years ago in Confessions
My Worst Childhood (in Lifeline Center) Ever…
When I was younger, I was breached and had a club foot. I wouldn’t talk until I was three or four. During my childhood, I experienced inappropriate but pornographic movies. Then I kept talking a lot about everything else that I would see in my daily lives.
By Jennifer S. Genuino3 years ago in Confessions