I'm always telling people I'm not normal. I realize everybody is different from everyone else in many ways, but I'm "more different" than most and was probably born that way. Living in Guss, Iowa, for the first seven years of my life put me in isolation simply because Guss was an unincorporated little burg with about 15 or 20 residents, and very few children. Oh, there were two little boys across the road around my age, but who wants to play with boys? Actually, I played with them quite a bit, because my parents and their parents played cards often. However, at some point some hard feelings must have arisen between those neighbors and my parents, because it seems they cut all lines of communication. I wasn't ever told why, but my mother said things many years later. I think perhaps she might have said something behind their backs that hurt their feelings, but I really don't know.
The thing is, since I had few other children around, I learned to like being alone. I'm sure when I got together with other children, I lacked many of the social graces (I still do). Children aren't shy with their words to others, and can be very critical. I learned at school that I talked too loud, and repeated certain words too much. I began building walls then; I made myself as invisible as possible, minded my own business, and went home to happily play pretend games by myself, at home.
We moved to Missouri, away from the one-room schoolhouse. Eagleville is a small town with a small school, but it was big compared to what I was used to. There were a lot more children to deal with. If we played any game at recess where sides were chosen, I was one of the last picks. Always. It didn't matter, because I was invisible. I never ate in the lunchroom at school. We moved to Kansas City and I ended up in one of the largest schools in the state at the time, North Kansas City High School. With the exception of two girl cousins my age, I had not one real friend. Don't feel sorry for me, because truthfully that's how I was most comfortable, behind my walls.
Nowadays when I read blogs, I notice most women like to run around with girl friends to movies, or shop together and eat out. I don't like shopping, I'd rather watch movies at home, and I don't eat out all that much. You see, I practiced being invisible starting with the first day of school in Iowa and have really gotten skilled at it.
I have had close lady friends: Carol, Terri, Shirley. Two of those have died. But even with them, I ended up distancing from them at some point, although we'd still talk if the occasion arose. I did consider them "best friends". But I built my usual wall, so we didn't get too close; if I get too close, I'll get hurt. My mind knows this isn't the way it should be, but I've trained for invisibility for almost 77 years, and it's all I know.
I think perhaps I began blogging so I could tell stories while remaining invisible.
I'm just keeping it real, folks.