Do Wave Goodbye Properly

What is your earliest memory? Describe it in detail, and tell us why you think that experience was the one to stick with you.

Source: Childhood Revisited

To my own disbelief, I am unable to recall much details of my childhood. Every time I tried to, it was just a very blurry vision of me bullying and bossing my classmates around (which is why I will spend a lifetime cowering in shame… or making up for it, somehow), being under a lot of trouble with random people, watching a lot of MTV (which is not appropriate then) and 90s cartoons or animated movies, and also being very active in classes and especially P.E, just to show the little brats at school that girls too can be as good as guys when it came to sports. Most probably it is because even my unconscious was trying to repress how extremely unpleasant and exasperating I was as a kid. I guess that is for the better.

Yet I can safely say that there is one particular recollection of myself that is probably the earliest I can remember. I believe it was when I was around 3 or 4 years old, on my way to preschool with my Dad holding my hand. He dropped me off near my classroom, where every morning all the kids needed to line up before going inside one-by-one; which I still have no idea why it is still kept as a custom up to this day back home. Anyway, I remembered I needed to hurry lining up, so my Dad helped me with my tiny school backpack and I just took off without properly waving goodbye to him, which is out of habit. My Dad then called out to me saying “I’ll see you later” to which I responded bizarrely as a little kid: I simply waved my hand from the distance without even looking at him and proceeded to line up with the other kids.

Thank God my Dad found this hilarious, as I also remembered him telling the story and reenacting just exactly what I did to him in front of my Mum and aunts when he picked me up from school a few hours later.

I do not remember how I react to that then, but now I am embarrassed and baffled at the same time whenever I recall this peculiar bit of my childhood. What kind of 3-year-old brushed off her parents to start school? Nope, ain’t got no time to look back even for a second to smile and wave back goodbye. Such school. Much important. Chillax, kid, school is not going anywhere. Jeez.

My Mum did mention that I was very excited with the idea of going to school that I used to constantly ask her if I can go to one whenever I see an older kid in the neighborhood walking to school with their parents; which I honestly cannot fathom why up to now. She also said how I was always eager when it comes to answering the teacher’s questions, or singing in front of the class or doing physical activities with my peers; which currently does not even count as a distant memory because I thought I have always been a lazy bum, too anxious to even breathe in any social setting possible. 20 years is enough for change, apparently.

Now that I have transformed to a completely different human being, it is understandable that this particular memory and its back-up evidences left an everlasting impression of little traces of my old self. Yet to be frank, I still cannot comprehend why, out of all, other memories available, that is the one that pops out of my head whenever I tried to delve in the earliest image in my head.

The best thing I can come up with is probably related to what I have hinted in the beginning of this post. Perhaps my poor soul cannot take the other numerous cringe-worthy moments or actions I did as a little kid, and this is the only memory that will prevent myself suffering from a brain seizure or heart failure. Not to mention all the awkward and embarrassing moments I have in my teen years, which I can still recall vividly because suddenly by age 12 or 13 my brain had only come to realize I exist as a human being.

In conclusion, it was a defense mechanism.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s