Two Lives, One Girl

I sang with Sarah tonight. I haven't sung with my family in a long time, though we used to sing all the time. So much that I got sick of hymns and dreaded Dad pulling us up in front of the church to give the Sunday morning special.

I wasn't expecting to get emotional while I was singing but I did.

See, when I think about growing up - I remember the bad so much more than the good. I remember being hurt. I cringe at what I used to wear. I learned to distrust people. I was insecure and lonely and sometimes just plain weird.

As I've gotten older, I got sick of being steriotyped. The moment people find out I was homeschooled or was a preacher's daughter, they automatically put me in this "weird" cateogory that I don't want to be in.

So I quit telling them much about growing up. I quite really even thinking about it if I can because it invariably leads to the break up of our churches and with N. and many many friendships over stupid things.

I don't want to remember.

But tonight, just singing made me remember - and almost miss it.

Snatches of things. Sitting on the floor (the rotting one) when I got my sewing machine in the mail as part of my dressmaking and design course when I wanted to have a costume shop. Already this is leading to the memory that I wanted a costume shop because people kept telling me I couldn't be an actress without "giving up my morals"...

But I decided that I'm going to start trying to blog about good memories. Because I had them. I just can't remember them. And I don't want to grow up hating or embarrassed about my childhood. It wasn't "normal" but then again - whose is??