I think since I was a kid, I would act like I was okay and that I was fine all the time so that everyone else could focus on themselves. I always figured out a way to be happy with what I had, and as hard as it may be to believe, I haven’t always been that much of a brat. It was effortless to please me for the most part, and I would smile for whatever reason. Watching my parents get into fights, I would make it easy for me to be okay with whatever we were going to do that day so that I wouldn’t be a focal point. I would just ensure that my sister was cool, and that was all we needed.

I had a few birthdays that were more important to me than others, but I still had to share the spotlight. I always hated that as a kid, of course, I didn’t understand it could’ve been to save a little bit of money, and it would ease the burden of everyone else coming back seven days afterward to celebrate my birthday. Ultimately, I thought that fewer people would show up for my birthday if it meant that people would be invited a week later for my birthday celebration.

I once wrote my feelings in a journal, and my teacher found this out. I was never asked about any of that because I surprisingly got pretty good at English, so my parents didn’t understand. I think back to whatever topic I was writing about and it sort of looks dark now. I would talk about running away often. I don’t know if this ever happened to you, but did you ever wonder if running away would make things better or divert the attention from one negative thing to another? I always thought that if I ran away and were found, there would be some sort of celebration instead of trouble for running away in the first place. Maybe I craved more attention as a kid and felt I never got it. That probably came with the territory. Being the oldest, you have all the attention at one point, just for it to go elsewhere later on.

I think I thought that running away would be great because I often got lost whenever we would go out to a large area. I remember getting lost at Circus Circus once. I was terrified, and nobody would help me find my parents. I was scared to go to security because I thought they would end up getting my parents in trouble, and I never wanted them to get into any trouble. I do remember how calm everyone was when I was found. There was no celebration; in fact, I think we left shortly afterward.

I think it’s time I finally sit with those thoughts for a while to try and explain what has shaped me to do be the person I am now. Not because I can’t change it, but because maybe I haven’t focused on it to heal whatever it was that I was feeling. I’m lucky enough to have my parents to ask questions on everything and figure out why things were the way they were. It does make you wonder though, those that seem to be upset all the time, those people that seem to have hate in their heart, who and what hurt them when they were kids?