Fandango’s One-Word Challenge: Unique
When I was young, I was probably around 14, I had these goals and I was picking them off one by one.
I wanted to play the guitar and guess what- within a few years I was playing lead and in those days ‘girl guitar players’ were a novelty.
My brother was mortified. He was doubly mortified when I started to ride motorcycles too.
He thought I was showing off- but I cut him slack because I was older and it must have been hard for him to watch his big sister take on ‘guy stuff’.
This was back in the 1970’s and women couldn’t even have their own credit cards separate from their husband’s until 1974, so yeah. It was different back then.
Then out of the clear blue sky, after writing stories non-stop since I was about 9 years old I started to win essay contests and short story contests – sometimes I came in first sometimes I got honorable mention but I always placed.
Which was fine by me.
It was fun to be good at something and be rewarded for it.
One day my Dad was outside doing something under the hood of his car, maybe he was in a bad mood, but I sort of trotted up the driveway and told him I had won a prize at school for one of my stories.
The way I put it was ” Guess what, I won another writing contest “
My Dad says, ” Another? ” he slammed the hood of his car down and said ” Another one? What? Did nobody else enter but you? Does ANYONE else ever enter these things or is it just you?”
“Lots of people do.”
” Sure.” he sort of glared at me and I slunk off to the back yard and sat with my dog until dinner time.
I’m pretty sure that if I had to go looking for that moment in my life where I learned the hard way that if I was going to be unique, that if I was going to stand out-
I probably should not.
I learned, back then that I’m really not tough enough for that.
I really do wish I could have been. I really do.
2 thoughts on “The Quirk”
We all have regrets, but when it’s your own father who diminishes you, that’s hard.
He had his own demons to deal with. It was a sad time.