My childhood years… And how they made me who I am.

Okay, okay, I’m procrastinating, but that’s not the important thing here.

I was going though random Daily Post prompts and found this one, that is quite intriguing. It’s also a bit old, and there will definitely be other, better responses, but I wanted to leave one myself. I mixed it up with today’s Daily Post prompt after I realized I could mix them up! 😀

My childhood was nice, in fact, I was happy when I was with my family. I was this energetic, social child that was always so eager to learn, read and meet new people.

I remember begging my parents to go to school. It was my dream to be on a learning environment, and finally hang out with other kids my age. I may have thought they would be as nice as the others. So I was able to get in a year before I should have. As I already knew how to read, I was accepted. It was heaven. I don’t remember Kindergarten that much, but I loved it.

My primary school years, though, were another different story altogether. That is what I wish I could change. I wish kids realized how much damage they can do to someone that doesn’t have the support I had. I wish my future kids don’t go through this, that their childhood years are as happy as they should be.

I was not accepted as I was. I remember the older kids calling me to say random trivia I knew because I read a lot. (Things I don’t remember now…) I was their entertainment… but I liked the attention. I always hung out with older kids that were willing to put up with me. The kids my age didn’t want to, and I never understood why. I remember crying, asking my mom. One of my mom’s friends then told me she cried when I wasn’t there.

Anyway, I changed schools, but nothing changed. In fact, it got worse. I mean, it was nothing physical. No one ever hit me or anything… But it was more of the emotional bullying. Kids can be cruel, you know. I was basically ignored all the time, I was the last one to be chosen for group work, etc. My inability with sports accentuated this.

My family never stopped supporting me, which was nice. I was even offered to skip a grade but mom didn’t want to. (Which, in retrospect, was the best idea.)

I tried, again and again to be accepted. I changed so many things about myself and even lost some of what was good about me. Years passed, and then I realized nothing was ever going to change. That I’m different, and it’s basically their loss. Some people would want to be with me, and some wouldn’t. Some did. I was finally part of something. When this happened, I was happy. And all was right in the world.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompts: “Childhood Revisited.” and “Easy Fix”


12 thoughts on “My childhood years… And how they made me who I am.

  1. Hey, you probably already know this, but it’s a much bigger world than one realizes during childhood. There are a LOT of people like you in the world, and over time, you’ll run into more and more of them, who will be happy that they’ve encountered someone like them.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Good on you Nat, you’re a strong and intelligent young woman now and you are finding your place in the world. Such a harsh environment other kids can create, they are just trying to make other people notice them, they probably don’t realise just how damaging their behaviour is!
    Lovely response to the prompt…

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Don’t regret your past but be happy what you’ve become.
    No excuse, but kids are not cruel. They just lack of experiences and proper role models. :\

    My experiences – good and bad – made me what I am today. 🙂
    Bear up!

    Liked by 1 person

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