Dear Simone

Dear Younger Self,

Your anxiety must be high, have a seat.

You started gaining weight in 2nd grade. Dad was mad at you for not wearing a bra. You had weak ankles, no surprise there. They didn’t let you play much.

In kindergarten, I think you got boxing gloves and an accordion. But you weren’t allowed to use them. You had a lot of Barbie’s though. And little clothes. Mom started looking at shows and magazines for ideas to make her own things and said the projects were for you two, but really, she just needed your help most of the time. She would do the hard work and let you decorate sometimes. I think she forced herself to believe she didn’t need new things because dad wouldn’t allow her.

They made you shower with them. Naked. They had to stop because you got a little too curious and poked dad’s “thing” and you tried to see mom’s “mechanics.” “Why did you poke him? You’re gross,” mom said. You also caught them being intimate, several times. You would cry and run to the room. After they would finish, mom would come in and ask “why are you crying?” Brickwall.

Eventually you had to give up your room to your uncles until they moved down the hall. Dad would bring things from work. He brought like eight, 8ft plastic mirrors that mom had to cut, to make them fit. She put five in the living room and three in their room. It was creepy to you. And you were scared of the dark. You were a crazy sleeper too. One day you rolled over in-between the bed and mirrors. Mom and dad were being intimate. You were stuck and crying for several minutes until they finished. They were mad at you saying you were exaggerating. But the image of your mom on top before you fell is all you could remember. Then being stuck there because you werent important enough for them to stop…That molded some of your desires and fears. Fears of mirrors. Brick wall.

Mom always had you watch Novelas, which is probably why you had this unrealistic idea of love.  Fairytale like.  You crush that stupid idea at 27 when SS leaves you. So you lose all hope and “bedrot” for about 2 years. Sorry, I know that sucks. But you couldn’t talk to mom.

Mom always talked to you about how you shouldn’t find someone like your dad. But she wouldn’t leave him. No matter how much you begged. She always stayed. At one point, she was ready to leave. She was ready. I’m not sure what changed. She blames it in you. I’ll explain later.

You were mom’s confidant. You tried to be helpful  and tried to be a girl, but she wouldn’t let you. Sometimes you had to go with her to work at Wendy’s. You loved eating there. Talking to people, just  seeing new faces. You tried almost everything on the menu.

In California mom worked at Taco Bell and dad at Burger King. Mom always brought you food. It wasn’t until your favorite uncle brought you guys Burger King breakfast sandwiches. You fell in love with them. Still your favorite to this day.

Mom and dad tries to cook together or have you help but he always yells at you even though you don’t know anything and they expect you to know, because in our home countries, girls are already cooking and cleaning by 9 years old. That’s probably why you don’t like anyone being in the kitchen.

Dad always complained that she didn’t know how to cook or that her food was too bland or too salty. Always said there was no flavor. So, she got a recipe book. Some of the ones they chose were nasty. You started by learning fractions and directions. Mom would put the things in the oven for you. Dad always liked your food. Mom always said, “How is it possible if she doesn’t know anything?” Later on, you stop cooking for them because she always throws your food away. 

When mom wasn’t looking, dad was a real bully to you. He’d trip you and kick you, then call you stupid for falling. He’d pull your hair or tickle you until you told him you might pee yourself. Dad would want you to light the candles, and because you were scared, he’d hold your hand over the fire to show you, “See? Nothing happens.” That molds you too. You become extremely scared of heat or fire. You didn’t try cooking for many years because of that. Brick wall.

Unraveling you.