My Story (Part 3)….Honesty in Actions and Words… part 2

It is weird how I feel like I can relate to Hannah Brown…well not entirely…I mean

Well she was a bit of a tom-boy so I am sure if she had the opportunity to, she too would have gone on camps.

Anyway…I could go on forever…but basically when you look at us we are nothing a like…but the true Hannah Brown does relate a lil to me.

And I felt Confident I could win whatever contests came up, too. I was sure of it. Because if I thought I couldn’t win, I would to my best to avoid competing in the first place…

Winning mattered to me because it felt good, on both the inside and the outside. But not winning?  Messing up? Looking bad in front of other kids and adults? That hurt me. 

-Hannah Brown God Bless this Mess

Sounds just like me….if I couldn’t be the best or at least be in the top 5 I would quit or wouldn’t even try.

In primary school I was considered to be a good swimmer, so of course I joined the School Swim team and since I was the best in Butterfly and Breast-Stroke those 2 strokes became the ones I would always compete in…and everyone knew that they could count on me to get the gold/silver for the team. But as soon as I started to get fatter or someone got better than me, I quit the swim team.

Same thing with dancing…I was the best dancer out of all my friends…not because I could point my feet well  or did the best moves well, but for some reason the judges just loved my performances, so the judges would give me high marks, and when they started to get strict and I could not quite do what the older and more leaner girls could do…I quit.

I think it went even further…my parents would boast about how their lil black daughter was going to be a doctor so I worked my arse off to get good marks and be the best…I think maybe that is why I no longer wanted to be a doctor…I didn’t do well in Science and Maths, but I did really well and I really understood Accounting…so that is what I wanted to be, of course studying accounting became a difficulty after my head injury and so now it is just a dream….a title I would still love to have after my name…but I am okay with that never happening.

My parents friends all loved me…

Because unlike their children I would never bother the adults…I would always do my school work and keep to myself…I was always smiling and laughing and I would help clean up after dinner and help serve. But I think it was more than just being liked and loved by everyone. I have always known that I am not my white parents biological daughter… and they have never legally adopted me…so I have always known that if I did anything that they didn’t like they could kick me out, turn their backs on me.

It took me awhile and a lot for me to realize that, that is the furthest thing from the truth. Often my father will tell me how he does more for me than he does for his biological daughters….I know that through all the shit that my bio mom has put them through and through everything that I have cost them, they have all still held my hand…they still love me. So I have let go on the want to always be the best…but I still like being right and knowing best and proving everyone that they were wrong and my idea was the right one.