Comfortable in My Own Skin

pixabayI was born on a Tuesday…no, wait….a Thursday.  Well I guess at my age now, it really doesn’t matter.  Hi, my name is Anne, and I’m 74 years young.  I used to not say things like that because my mind wasn’t right.  Well, not in a mentally disordered sense, but just my way of thinking.  My only regret, is that I didn’t learn about thinking better, sooner.  Would have made a lot of different decisions if I had.  I know you didn’t come here to hear about my problems.  But I’ll share a piece of my life with you.  Maybe it’ll help some youngins get it together before their bones turn brittle.

When I was a little girl, we lived in a small clapboard house.  Nothing special.  Two bedrooms, a tiny bathroom, and an even tinier kitchen.  I know this was the best Mama and Daddy could do, but I used to be ashamed.  You see, the kids I went to school with lived in pretty brick homes near town.  They never made fun of me or nothing, but I just didn’t feel like we were the same.  There were many other things we didn’t have in common like clothes, race, or things that happened inside the home.  So I withdrew.  Well, not totally.  Had one friend in grade school, but her family moved away by the time we were in high school.
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