Growing up make believe worlds and narratives were my escape from reality. Movies and books had me by the heart.
I tried my best to ignore my mother's abuse with pretending like her calling me worthless most nights didn't hurt, playing Pokemon to be ****** in a world where I was a hero to all, using my talents to gather a crowd that would care about what I did, being disciplined by other adults at daycare because mom was working and dad letting us travel Illinois.
I hate pretending because I want everything to be realistic. I know surprising coming from a writer. Money have always been a problem with my family. I never got everything I wanted which was probably a good thing. Growing up in a rich Christian small town my family didn't follow trends. I got hand-me-downs from my older sister and I still do. My older siblings were spoiled by our parents while my little sister and I had to be resourceful, intelligent, mature, always two steps ahead of our parents and planning each day accordingly. Being middle class Americans isn't the worst. My atheist friend says that I am spoiled even though no I am not. My older siblings got to go to the colleges of their dreams on scholarships while my little sister and I had to go to a local college. My childhood best friend says that I know everyone in town even though I had to learn to be a social butterfly because of my extroverted family through experience. Social skills are keys to thriving in religious small town where being poor is frowned upon and being rich is expected. I may not be normal but I am weird enough to create my own tribe of trusted friends and allies.