- *As a child I included a Barbie doll on my annual Christmas list for years and years. Finally, my visibly bewildered mother complied (well, sort of) and bought me a Ken doll. I hated him for multiple reasons.
*As a child I rode every single ride at Disneyland with my mother. When it was suggested otherwise I objected rather fiercely, often to the point of tears. I clung to her like she was the only thing worth having in the entire world.
- *As a child I was instructed quite explicitly on correct running form by my predominant (but ever so loving) mother. She took me outside one summer day and taught me how to run: no flailing or limp wrists, but strong, manly arm swings. I pretended to care.
- *As a child I would often lay in bed brooding over the fact that girls had more clothes and accessories to choose from. I was bitter and angry with God, the president, and humanity as a whole. What injustice!
*As a child I was always Peach, April O'Neil, Chun Li, Belle, Jubilee, or the Damsel in Distress whenever the choice was mine. My brothers never passed up the opportunity to remind me either.
*As a child I quickly developed strong obsessions for pop stars and movie stars. Everyone knew me as the boy who could tell you ANYTHING about Britney Spears or Kate Winslet. Unlike my brothers' rooms, my bedroom walls weren't adorned by the likes of Dan Marino or Michael Jordan. Britney's rosey cheeks covered nearly every inch of my bedroom walls, constantly reminding me (and everyone else) just how different I really was.
*As a child I secretly watched films or TV shows related to homosexuality, maybe in an attempt to find answers. Or maybe just because I liked watching guys kiss other guys.
- *As a child my best friends were always girls: Shelbi, Caitlin, Darcy, Jennifer, Lucy...
*As a child I endured the stinging insults of bullying classmates day after day. Fag! Queer! Homo! Sissy! It deeply scarred my little heart and caused intense feelings of sadness and self-loathing. Mostly because I could never deny it.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
I wrote an essay once about myself as a child and the various forms of unique expression I displayed at very young age. During the course of its writing I learned some invaluable things about my current self, coming to the indefinite conclusion that our little selves are often still within us, buried somewhere beneath the fresh layers of conformity and pretense. Shedding some of those layers I aim to better understand the big me by examining the little, truthful me.
Posted by Jack-Jack at 10:38 PM