I'm 18. Ten years ago would put me at 8. I hardly remember anything in great detail from that time in my life (even though everything happened when I was 8 or 9). I can tell you I was a perfectionist that loved kitties and horses and enjoyed eating fresh vegetables out of the garden. I really had no innate ability for gymnastics (but did it anyways). I loved to read, I loved to write, I loved to dance, and I loved to draw/paint/color. The time I was excited about being allowed to wear pants to church probably tells you all you need to know about my clothing style: my mom held a benevolent dictatorship over the contents of my closet, I wore mostly skirts, tights, and mary janes, and I didn't really like them.
All of this is humorous, because I still love cats, fresh food from a garden, reading, writing, dancing, and art (I finally gave up on gymnastics). And I'm still a perfectionist, though a more moderate one. But now I'd rather wear a skirt than pants on most days, I love tights to death, and I'm still searching for a good pair of mary jane-type shoes that I like. C'est la vie, though, n'est-ce pas? (And my mom no longer has control over the contents of my closet, thank you--I dress myself appropriately)
No comments:
Post a Comment