Driving home from mass tonight, I heard one of the local DJs talking about her worst childhood experience. Listening to her triggered so many thoughts and feelings. But the strongest one was jealousy… at least I think that’s what it was. It was the word that seemed to fit the best.
So she was saying that her worst childhood experience was being at Sea World and having her cousin (with the blond curls) be picked to go up and get a kiss from Shamu and not her.
If that’s her worst memory… well… She probably had a pretty easy childhood.
And I’m jealous. All the things my parents and grandparents did to me. All the bullying and teasing that the other kids did. All the times I considered suicide.
And I feel horrible for being so jealous. I should be happy for her. She didn’t live through the hell I did. I should be happy for her. I wouldn’t wish my childhood on my worst enemy.
But I’m jealous. I must be a horrible person to feel this way.