Voiceless

I didn’t expect to be writing about my childhood today.  A few weeks ago I set up my upcoming blogs and I have no recollection of picking this topic.  That says a lot. That I’m avoiding this topic. It is relevant, to say the least.  My past sets up who Doc Z is today. There are early signs of insecurities, but resilience shines through. 

I was literally voiceless for the first five years of my life.  Let me explain.  When I was a baby I had chronic ear infections. When I was learning to talk, what I was hearing was muffled.  How can I explain? Imagine how you hear when you’re underwater.  That was how I always heard.  When you’re learning to talk, you imitate the sounds you hear.  So my speech was so garbled, I was voiceless.  I did have an ally.  My brother was the Aaron to my Moses.  Don’t get it twisted, I’m not saying I’m Moses and God is out here talking to me with a burning bush, all I’m saying is my brother was my mouthpiece.  My mother couldn’t even understand me.  My mother later revealed to me that not being about to understand me made her feel like a terrible mother.  She also thought, because I couldn’t talk I was a little developmentally delayed and I would just be her special creative daughter.   Now she understands me more than anyone. 

So there we were me and my brother.  It was an aide and a crutch.  I didn’t need to learn to talk because I had him.  That all changed when I started at an elementary magnet school.  This school had an excellent speech program.  I got to have full days while every other kindergartner had half days.  This school also tested every one to see who was gifted and lil ole voiceless Lil Z was picked.  So my mother was thoroughly surprised and pleased.  Some of my core memories were made at that school.   I am a strong advocate for magnet schools!  I fit in at that school, although I still had trouble with my Rs, still do as a matter of fact. Ask me to say iron, you’ll be in for a treat.  The demographics were very diverse and I remember my two best friends. I recently found one of them on social media and she is still such a treasure.   Although I fit in and loved that school, I was an observer more than I talker.  Something, once again, that is still true to this day.  Although I do not suffer from speech issues still, I do ofter feel voiceless.

My mother and I were attached at the hip.  Let me give you an example.  I slept in bed with my mother until I was six.  She finally kicked me out. I took it hard. I slept on the cold, hard, concrete floor outside her bedroom door constantly.  THIS WAS A REGULAR THING. My mother would just nonchalantly step over me in the morning. I was her shadow and I loved every second of it.  Whatever she was doing, I wanted to do it too.  This could be sewing, cooking, cleaning, reading, anything. If she was doing it, I wanted in.  Being voiceless and insecure, my security was tied up in my mother. I suppose you could say she was my security blanket.   I did leave her side from time to time to ride bikes or play outside with my brother.  We would also go to my play cousins’ house.  I’m trying to paint a picture to show you how close my mother and I were.  As said in a previous post, we dressed alike frequently. This all came crashing down with him!

My security was tied to my relationship with my mother.  When I perceived that as threatened, my self-worth, the little bit I had left, diminished.   My mom met her soon-to-be husband when I was seven. It was rainbows and cupcakes in the beginning.  He was kind to me but it didn’t matter because seven-year-old Z couldn’t logically think, when a new person is added the love grows.  My little life was forever altered and the longer he was around, the worst it got.  Once my sister was born he literally told my mother, I can’t love more than one person.  Therefore his affection for me and for my mother dissolved. This is not a post to demonize my stepfather.  I am explaining the end of my childhood. I wish the man nothing but the best, but at a time when I was developing characteristics and establishing core memories, I was also losing my childhood.  The move solidified this fact.  Once again Voiceless but this time I didn’t have my Aaron.