Midnight Reflections

When I was growing up, I always took it into mind that I actually enjoyed my childhood. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean I didn’t hate it temporarily at some point. Recently, I’ve been looking back at the loss of my childhood and innocence. Not only have I been replaying these memories in my head, but so has my entire family.

It was no secret that I struggled severely as a little girl. I grew up feeling I had no place in the world, in my home, in my family. I truly felt misplaced. However, I do miss all the times I played with my Bratz dolls, went outside to ride my bike, and watched Dora. I miss drinking chocolate milk like it was coffee in the early morning when me and my mom had to take my sister to school. I miss coming home and cuddling with my mom while watching La Rosa de Guadalupe. I miss when my dad would take me and my sister to buy snacks at 7/11 every Friday. I miss when my dad would take me and my sister to McDonald’s every Saturday morning to buy happy meals. I miss the excitement I felt when my mom would make my favorite meals like pozole. I miss making funny videos with my sisters on old ass phones that kids these days no longer use. I miss the early 2000s when technology was hardly even a thing because real-life entertainment sufficed. I miss making forts out of blankets and pieces of furniture with my sister. I miss when we’d play pretend, had active imaginations, and creativity. I miss when times were so simple.

I love remembering. I always have. I never let anything escape my mind, even the bad. Like how I don’t miss the cruelty I suffered since literal birth. I don’t miss getting treated like a dog, like I was less than, like I shouldn’t have been born. I don’t miss being left out. I don’t miss feeling like a burden to my family. I don’t miss having to say everything in my head before I said it out loud because I didn’t want my sisters to yell at me. I don’t miss when I use to find comfort in the family yorkie, Prince, who also didn’t even fuck with us like that. I don’t miss the times a wave of depression slapped me in the face every time my parents had to work late night and left me home with my older sisters. I don’t miss when I resorted to writing because I had nobody else to really talk to without getting silenced. I don’t miss when i’d be too scared to tell my mom I didn’t like the food she made today.

I wasn’t abused. I had an amazing childhood filled with so much fun and laughter. This isn’t a ‘save me’ story. I’m an adult now and I love my family with my entire being, whether they believe it or not. I was the youngest of four sisters, what did I expect? I know it may seem like i’m contradicting myself, but i’m not. Nobody has a perfect childhood, we were all delicate little ladybug’s and I enjoyed my youth. I’ve reached milestones the little ladybug I was back then wouldn’t even believe. I love my parents, I love my sisters, and I love the bond we all share today.

These memories, good or bad, were crucial to make me the person I am now. I don’t care if it sounds like I was treated like dog shit, I am a bloomed woman who has the love of the ones she needs the most. It is so easy to blame horrible situations on bad trauma. When you start to think and say “thats why I am the way that I am,” you say it in a negative tone. You doubt yourself but that doesn’t mean you’re invalid. I’m not saying you can’t blame being treated like shit by your step dad on the fact that you’re being a bitch. I’m saying, you should recognize the person you are in a positive light.

It is so easy to feel bad about these things. Blaming yourself for being mean, misunderstood, or harsh can eat you alive. What makes someone a good person is recognizing these mistakes, owning up to them, and apologizing for them. This is growth. This is changing for the better. Keeping yourself up at night reflecting and regretting past mistakes will get you nowhere. It will only lead you into a never-ending loop hole.

What many fail to realize is that people change. I’m a stubborn woman. I never believed in second chances. I never thought it was necessary. When you get to the age you always wanted to be, you see everything in a different perspective. You fill shoes your little self couldn’t. You mature, you grow, and you change. You realize second chances are inevitable and crucial for growth.

I miss my youth, and I love that my family does too. I love my family and I love that we love each other enough to grow together and change for each other. We all have stories, memories, experiences, and regrets. I get older every second and as I continue to get older I realize i’ve taken the last second for granted. Going on to nineteen, I know there is no time to be grieving the past, there is only time to create anew for the future. I literally feel old and i’m not (no matter how much my niece tells me I am). Time is precious, resentment and regret is so yesterday. It’s time to let go, today! Even if saying this might make me a hypocrite at times.

Moral of the story is: I want people to let go. I want others to stop regretting and act on what they want. Time goes by inevitably fast and memories burn out too quickly. Recoup relationships, friendships, sisterhoods, and paternal connections. It is never too late to wipe tears shed from your 5-year-old self and use them to water these roots waiting to bloom into something special.

We were all just little ladybug’s once.

– A