Keep It Down

Dear Simone,

Nobody talks about how difficult it is to grow up in a non-affectionate household then end up with the most affectionate kids and having to learn how to accept the love and clinginess from them without being over stimulated.

I don’t remember my mother ever playing with me. She read me books or vented to me. She did arts and crafts, and I watched her. She made the little cards with traceable paper on top of the unicorns or scenery. She would ask me for “my pens” so she could use them for her projects. So, I would store them, but she would use them. Sometimes she would do most of the work and have me write/sign my name to her mom. I wanted to do crafts or art, but I wasn’t allowed to all the time. She wouldn’t speak to me much. I wasn’t allowed to do the crafts because I might make a mistake, and we didn’t have many items. I was allowed to read books or do workbooks, crosswords, sudokus, or activity books.

My mom went through many phases of arts and crafts. There was a time period where she made clothes for my dolls or handmade doll furniture. She once painted a coffee table white and let me decorate it with paint and Disney pictures. She made sure it was “even.” I took that table 2 years ago. She was going to throw it away. One year she even painted my headboard purple, which was my favorite color at the time. I didn’t really get used to it. My uncle moved in that year then took over my room.

Now that I think about it, “my things” were never mine.

This sucks,