Before most of you knew me...

It is odd the certain aspects of childhood that we remember and and choose to block. When I think back to primary school I have no idea where I was in the second grade. We moved around a lot as I was growing up, my dad was the manager of a mobile homes sales lot, and they would relocate him periodically to get other lots up and running. Not sure if that makes sense, but I guess you could call him the "go to guy".

Some of my first memories are from when we lived in Texas. I remember sitting at the entrance to daycare waiting on my mom to pick me up. I remember graduating from that same daycare, we wore all white, but was it K-4 or K-5, not real sure on that one, but I am thinking K-4. But that is all I remember about the daycare, I don't recall any teachers or classmates. I don't even remember my neighbors name. I remember the first house we lived in. It was really neat because it had a spiral staircase leading to the playroom. I remember I cut my hair or bangs rather with my moms scissors. And then I remember we moved into another house and it was just up the street. I don't recall the actual move but I remember each house. My brother and I used to go fishing in the pond at the front of our neighborhood...hehe, I would drive my dump truck. Yep thats right, no Barbie Jeep for me, I had a red dump truck! I loved it. I was such a tomboy. It was in this house I remember the first and only time I ever hit my dad between the legs. I didn't know any different. And at some point I went to school and rode on a school bus, I remember this because my mom put my hair in pigtails, and everyone pulled them and called me punky bruster. I should have known right then making friends was never going to be easy and it never was.

My first friend there in the neighborhood lived a few doors down. I don't recall her name or what she looked like. I don't remember the games we played or if we played with barbies or dolls. And for the longest time I didn't even recall her. Then for some reason at the age of 21, a memory came back to me, one that I had blocked for many years. The one time I remember playing with that neighbor, we spent the night at her house. Her mom was somewhere else in the house, and we were in the master bedroom with her dad watching a movie. Then I remember we were playing under the covers when her dad took our hands...my next recollection is at the Police department. I don't remember what happened, but I must have told my parents because I remember sitting in the office while the officer held a doll asking me to point at  places he touched and the places he made me touch. Then he told me I did a good job, though I don't remember telling him anything. Next thing I knew, my neighbor was moving away and her dad was gone. I don't know what happened to him. I have no idea if he went to court or not. All I know is what I was told, and that was it was handled. My parents took care of it. And from that moment on, I blocked it all out. Well at least until I was 21. I was sitting on my couch in the little house, and I was talking with a guy friend when all of a sudden the blocked memory flooded my mind. I couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it, but it was true, it did happen to me. Sometimes I thought maybe this is why I pick the wrong guys, there was something in me. Who knows.

And as I sit here and write I wonder what all I blocked out, and how it affected me through out life. Would I be different if it didn't happen to me? Would my relationships with those that I encountered during my life be any different?

I have accepted what happened, but really, I still have  most of it blocked. I only remember that little bit of information. But I still remember the spiral staircase, my birthday party, getting a bike from Santa, taking my first tylenol pill, my brother and my cousin but no friends. I don't even recognize anyone in pictures. Strange, I suppose or maybe its really normal.

Texas is my earliest memories, but we still moved a lot. Next we loaded up the U Haul and headed to Niceville, Florida...or at least that is where my memory takes me!