There are two golden threads running through my life. The first is that I was always the unluckiest person I knew. The second is that everybody always hated me.
It started even before I was born. My mom said my father beat her when he heard she was pregnant. Then he left.
When I was a toddler other parents refused to let their children have play dates with me. Mom said they always cried when they were brought to our house or when mom or I came there. They always cried, every single other toddler, without exception.
My only memories of preschool are of me playing alone in a corner of the colorful room. I was the outcast. The others avoided me. They hated the food I brought to school; they hated the way I was dressed; they hated the way I played games. If you ever thought that there is no bullying in preschool – there is. And even the other mothers avoided me. They cuddled each other’s children, picked them up, cuddled them, played with them – but not me. Never me. Continue reading