We normally do not forget what we experience in childhood especially the embarrassing and the roughest ones. With an elder brother for a sibling I have had my share of embarrassing as well as rough moments. I had only an elder brother to look up to. No sisters and no cousins. It was just me and my brother. He was a tough one and as he was elder he did make me do things by love or by force. But it was obvious that I did what he asked me to do.
I knew less and didn’t wish to lose a friend.
My brother was my friend, my role model, my playmate. He made me jump walls, dive in rivers, fight with guys. I was like a guy in many ways more than a girl. I was tough and even boys my age feared me. I slapped guys in the middle of the school ground and came home with a stained shirt with a few missing buttons. It was not that I got along with my brother that well either. We fought and scratched and kicked each other until mother came to separate us. I cannot understand why but my mother always took my brother’s side. It’s not that she didn’t love me but my brother was her first priority. But still we fought and this made me tougher.
When young I looked more like a boy than a girl. only my dimpled face gave me away else I looked no different than my brother when he was young. I wore his clothes, the hand me downs and had a short mushroom cut hair and to atop it was my behavior. That maybe the reason my mother was so disappointed in me because I never fit into the perfect daughter category. Having that upbringing I never tried being what she wanted me to be. But when I did try to become what she wanted me to be it was too late, she had given up on me. I tried very hard to woo her by doing everything I could and whenever she did start accepting me I would end up fighting with someone and all the girly attitude would go to waste. The childhood full of embarrassing fights and slaps had rub in petty deep. I still have not been able to avoid it fully and get rid of it.
