Not having my feelings and ideas taken seriously, even when my whole heart was in them
The stiff, overly thick, 1970s, corduroy pants that made loud shooshing noises when you walked
Bullies threatening me with physical violence and following me home from school
Group showers after Phys. Ed. classes
Feeling hopeless about The Bomb and praying fervently that the Russians and the Americans wouldn't push the button
Rugburn
My mother picking out my clothes
The feeling of devastation that relatively small events could cause
Navigating the complex world of female relationships
Being teased by grownups without any real ability to get away
Wanting to read far above my maturity level and not being allowed to
The awkwardness of other children's birthday parties
Organ lessons
Being continually supervised
How much elementary school played out like Lord of the Flies
Always outgrowing clothes that I loved
How everything I wanted seemed to be arbitrarily kept away from me by future ages
Show & Tell in front of the class
That time I lived in fear of my mother for a few days after I found her collection of what I thought were trophies from her alien kills in the fridge (olives stuffed with pimentos were new to me at the time)
Loose teeth
Religion-induced anxiety that my soul might be at stake over some inadvertent sin
That people gave me dolls as gifts, which I was alternately disinterested in or terrified by
25 Things I Do Miss From Childhood
Jumping on the bed
The soft clatter pennies made in my pink, plastic piggybank when I rolled it over the shag carpeting in the hallway
Cardboard boxes exciting the hell out of me
Giggling through church while adding "under the covers at night" to the end of every song title in the hymnal
Bug funerals
Putting everything in my mouth to taste it
The deep satisfaction after getting a perfect mark on a spelling test
That the dentist gave me a sparkly ring after each visit
How my fingers fit perfectly into the grooves meant to hold cigarettes in plastic hotel ashtrays
That a garden shed could be the center of whole kingdom
Climbing up high into a tree to read books
Rootbeer popsicles
The feeling peculiar to my mother cutting the tops open on a new set of finger paints
Lying around in deep states of boredom
The smell of my grandfather on a cotton pillowcase after he and my grandmother stayed the night
Wearing my father's old shirts as giant painting smocks
That lies felt like satisfying stories told well
Those giant Lip Smackers chapsticks that smelled like bubblegum
Reading books with a flashlight in the back of my closet where the carpet was still relatively unworn
The beach ball smell of my rain slicker and a new umbrella
Playing hard like it was my job
That everything my future self could possibly be, from a secretary to a heroin addict, seemed like equally dramatic and grand adventures
Learning to yo-yo while standing on a kitchen chair, because the string was too long and I was too short to do it from the floor
Hiding nuts in my hair at the lake for the squirrels to find
Long days stretching out ahead of me over which I had fairly free reign to invent ways to fill them
