I was thinking I'd start by posting some completed assignments. Some will be edited to remove some content I don't want on the WWW. I'll save it for my book, as they say. Maybe I'll be ready then.
This autobiography below was a one-paged assignment meant to discuss my cultural background.
Autobiography 1: Cultural Background: Edited
I
was born in a small Maine town with modest means, a modest penis too.
And by modest penis, I mean no penis, to the dismay of my father. My
mom thought she saw one too; I can assure you she didn't, so Michael
became Melissa. I heard this story when I was 5. It explained, at the
time, why my father left after my sister's birth and again after
mine, because we weren't boys. His leaving and my mom's resulting
depression left me with a few messages that pervaded most of my life;
Men can not be trusted and I, alone, am responsible for the happiness
of my family. That pressure was often too much. I cooked and cleaned
and tried to make my mom well. Our home, after all, needed all the
help it could get. It was purchased for $3,000. It was located
between a dump and a gravel pit, our poor pets... all those trucks.
I'm thankful for the third message my mother gave me, that I'd be her
college girl. Otherwise, I'd still be taking on too much in Belfast,
Maine. I place I wouldn't shine and grow.
Since
my parents were divorced, my Gram came back into our lives; my mother
was un-disowned. She'd make us PB & J sandwiches after school
while my mom was working; then she'd play solitaire while we watched
TV. There were no qualities of any heritage background apparent in
either home. The only thing my grandmother protected was her biscuit
recipe. We used to slice them in half in the mornings, add butter and
fry them on a frying pan and eat them with strawberry jam. My
grandmother certainly held the family together. Yearly picnics at her
house happened every summer until her death. Now we get together on
Christmas for a small gathering but it doesn't feel the same.
Thankfully,
my mom had Elizabeth when I was 5. She became my best friend and many
days were spent at our club rock, which was below our sledding hill,
in the forest. Our time at the rock felt easy and natural. I felt
like a kid. The four of us started attending church when I was about
8. We never talked about God outside of church. I just liked to sing
and feel the happy energy, that seemed mutual.
It
took therapy to help me overcome my misconceptions and strengthen
that which was healthy in my family. My early messages led to many
undesirable happenings with men but now I'm able to step back and
realize that I'm okay and that I've always been okay, despite my
thoughts. I now understand that creating happiness is a group effort.
I also learned that being with people helps me stay balanced and
feel really alive. I was always a social, well-adjusted butterfly,
just trapped in a cage, until Elizabeth came along.
