Some Simple Truth . . . about childhood.

I hesitate to make any global statements here because everyone has a different type of childhood experience. However, I think most of us had at least some period of awkwardness or unhappy times. Whether you were the tuba-playing band geek, the girl who got the unlucky honor of getting boobs first, or maybe you were the jock struggling with a secret same-sex attraction. Either way, most of us have horror stories to share. Personally, my childhood was an unlucky combination. I got to play the role of the brainy, fat, girl, and I had the classic, parent vs. child confrontations.

• Some Simple Truth

I would erase third through ninth grades from my memory, if possible. I know I'm supposed to say "But really I wouldn't change a thing because I wouldn't be the person I am today!" Here's some simple truth . . . if anyone ever says that to you, look at them in the eye and then proceed to tell them they're full of crap. Why? Because we have no idea who we would be if we could change certain things about our past. I don't mean go back in time and rewrite it all, maybe more like key parts. For all we know, changing those key things might actually have made us better people in the end. In my case, there are key moments that I remember as particularly painful and I would DEFINITELY adapt those. Not erase, just adapt. For example, one day both my elementary and high school came together to hand out some end-of-the-year academic awards. Being the nerd that I was, of course I had won something and headed towards the stage when my name was called. As I was climbing the stairs to the stage, I tripped, fell head over feet down the stairs, and landed in a sort of . . . advanced gymnastics position. So how would I adapt this and still get the learning experience of being publicly humiliated in a large way as a child? I'd have worn pants that day, instead of a dress. Now take a moment to let that image sink in. Not only did I look like enough of a spaz by falling down the stairs, my 'hoo' was also on display for the entire school. Yeah. See what I mean? Would I really be a worse human-being now if I'd have just worn some damn pants?!

• Some Simple Truth

Fathers really don't 'get' their daughters when they're young; especially when their young daughters are fat and they weigh 160 lbs., soaking wet, as a 35-year-old man. I could have squashed my Dad by the sixth grade. I was sick to death of hearing, "Do you really think you need to eat that hot pocket?" Yes Dad, I really do. Now I wish I would have just thought to sit on top of him, that would've stopped him from yakking. But in reality, now that I'm older, I understand it was his (bad) way of worrying about my health and trying to express concern. Too bad for him it only made my desire to over-eat even stronger. See that's what men don't get, the whole emotions roller coaster we women face. Me being depressed with school wasn't helped by coming home to a nagging, but well meaning, father who just further enforced my inadequacies as a little girl. My mother wasn't such a help either though. She wouldn't make me feel bad about my weight, she just wouldn't stick up for me when it came to his comments. So for years and years we fought and fought. Him never really understanding me or my feelings, and me never really understanding that he loved me, but that he was such a product of his upbringing - but that's a story for another time. Meanwhile, I ate and ate and ate to try and feel better, I closed myself off to others so I wouldn't risk getting hurt, I excluded myself from after-school activities because I just didn't feel that I belonged. I entered my freshman year obese, alone, depressed, and ready to check out. But that story will have to wait.

Everyones childhood experience is different. I have met people over the years who were abandoned, abused, and neglected for their entire childhood, that's when I began to realize I was actually lucky in my childhood experiences. But everyone carries some scars from those years, even if they're minor ones.

One of my long-term Quest goals is to have children, with or without a man. I only hope, as I'm sure most parents do (and should), that I will be able to make my children's years better than mine. I'm just afraid that, in the end, we really do turn into our parents.