Memories

My memories begin when I was 3 years old. I was living at my grandparents and I was pretending I knew how to read when the neighbors visited us. At 4 years old I got all upset with my grandpa 'cuz he ruined one of my masterpieces, a girl with no shoes that I drew on a cold winter day. He wanted to add the shoes and I went emo. I guess I wasn’t really a “shoes girl” and that stuck with me ‘til today.

At 5 years old I fell. And apparently not only tall people fall hard, little ones do it too. I broke my head and my forehead met some stitches. At 6 years old I refused going to the kindergarten, I broke down (I’m a special girl) and my parents took me to my grandparents’, once again.

At 7 years old I started going to school and I discovered I’m smart and pretty and people like me.

At 8 years old I finished 1^st grade and I was the only one not finishing with a perfect 10. I had a 9.95 because of a 9 grade at math. my mathophobia followed me til our days.

At 9 years old – I  don’t remember. At 10 years old I slipped and I fell in front of the class. No one laughed, they were all worried and came to see if I was ok.

At 11 years old I was passing my first serious test for the silly French class. I refuse to remember 12-13 years old.

At 14 years old I discovered I had scoliosis and went through a rather traumatic experience with the scoliosis braces.

At 15 years old I started high school and I discovered  I’m not all that smart or that pretty. It’s all about different standards.

At 16 years old I had my first kiss. With a blond boy with blue eyes. Who – I suspect – stole my wallet.

At 17 years old I had my first “official” boyfriend.

At 18 I started being pretty again. And other things. Yay for me!

At 19 I met him. 

After that, a whole different story began. And we're still living happily. Ever after.