And I was thinking; maybe I should start from the beginning and tell you everything about me in order instead of jumping around from idea to idea. I'm sure there will be tidbits of me left out that I'll go back to, but overall, I'd like to take you on the journey of me.
I was born in Tacoma, Washington in May 1981. My parents didn't have insurance at the time, so my parents didn't stay at the hospital very long. I think I needed to stay a bit longer because I had low blood sugar and was a bit of a preemie. My mom tells me she was very worried about leaving me there and didn't think she would sleep well... but come on, she just gave birth- she slept like a baby. I joke around sometimes in saying that these were my roots to having an independent spirit. I just revisited the hospital where I was born a couple years ago, thanks to some of my husband's friends who lived close. That's all I really know about when I was born.
When I was brought home, my older sister immediately accepted me as part of the family. No jealousy issues with her- and there never were. We were completely opposites in our personalities, and sometimes that took it's toll on our relationship, but she always took care of me- even when I didn't want her to. I remember one incident when I was in about 3rd grade or so, and my older sister was left in charge of all us kids. We got in a fight, as was routine for us, and I started throwing some clothes into a suitcase because I was going to run away. I offered to take my little sister along, but she was too scared and didn't know what to do. My older sister was blocking the door, so I opened the window and pushed out the screen. Next thing I knew I was marching down the street- not knowing what was going to come next, and scared out of my mind. My older sister came running after me. She had every right to just let me go- I wasn't very nice to her. But she persuaded me to come home. I was so grateful she did because I didn't know what I was going to do. Our relationship continued like this- volatile at times, always opposite, but always coming back to how much she really cared. Still- to this day.
One of my earliest memories was when I was about 4. I had my older sister and my younger sister. My mom sat all of us girls around her to tell us she was going to have another baby, and she asked if we wanted a girl or a boy. Both my sisters answered immediately that they wanted another girl. I waited, took a minute to think, and said that I wanted a boy- I wanted a brother. I got my brother, and from the very beginning felt responsible for him. After all, it was because of my wish that he was here (such is the thought process of a very young child), so it was up to me to look out for him. I probably could have done a better job during his teenage years, but I guess I got too involved in my own life. I still feel a connection to him, though- even though he's grown up, married, and has a child of his own.
My little sister and I were close. We had a lot more in common than anyone else in the family. We both liked to dance, and go to Young Women's activities at our church. We both had The Little Mermaid memorized word for word. I think she was a bit quieter than me- I was definitely the loudest in my family. But we were always writing notes to each other about how we admired each other and cared for each other. We did some musical theater together, and some marching band, more on those to come.
My relationship with my parents was an interesting one. My mom was perfect, so she couldn't do anything wrong. My dad, however, was a different story. I was very sensitive and took everything personally (which is still an issue I have to frequently work through), and my dad was very sarcastic. Those two traits did not mesh together very well, so growing up, I never had a good relationship with my dad.
It is interesting to see how relationships can change, and how they stay the same over many years. My older sister still watches out for me in amazing and intimate ways. I have learned to appreciate our differences, and find our unique similarities. My brother and I have drifted apart. Maybe the years of growing up with 4 moms took its toll on him, and he just wants to be left alone. My little sister and I aren't as close as we used to be, but we still get together frequently to hang out. I have written before of my ah-ha moment in discovering my mom's imperfections, but I am grateful to finally see her humanity- I believe it makes her more real. And I've also been able to see my dad as a real human being. I recognize the value in his perspectives, and even turn to him for advice at times. I think my family still sees me as the loud one, and expects me to be the over the top dramatic child that I used to be. Unfortunately, I see myself differently. I feel I have grown up in a lot of ways.
I'm not going to say I had the best family in all of creation, because I don't want to oversell it. My family is not perfect- and I'm not going to pretend that they are- but that's not a bad thing. Some believe that it's either all or nothing: either the best family, or the worst. But this is not the case. I find a richer, more meaningful reality in the one that has both negatives and positives. Character is found in the struggles and imperfections of life. Being placed with
my imperfect family has helped make me the person I am today. Without them, I don't think I would have discovered my own ability to thrive, even under unfavorable circumstances.
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