Growing up my whole world consisted of 30 acres. 30 acres of beautiful farmland in Conway, SC. Christian parents who had been together since they were 12 and 2 brothers. My younger brother was my best friend. Dressing him up in dresses and putting on makeup for the make-believe Mister Master pageant was some of my best memories with him as kids. My older brother, while we were closer in age, I don't remember much play time with him. He mostly kept to himself.
We were not poor however we lived below our means. My summers consisted of working in the fields to buy the clothes I wanted for school. If not, I got hand me downs from family friends. There were no family vacations, going out to eat and no cable TV. I never understood why we had a dryer that we never used. We hung our clothes on the clothesline. My pants would be so stiff they would stand up straight before I even put them on.
I spent most of my time with my mom. My dad was either hunting, fishing or working and those activities never included me. My brothers got that time with my dad. I was a girl, the only girl, and hanging out with the boys was not lady like. My dad was old school. No kisses, hugs, I love you's and definitely no sitting in my dad's lap. I envied the daddy's girls growing up. One of my best friends in school was a daddy's girl. I would watch her sitting in her dad's lap while they talked about their day, and I just remember just being so sad. I would never know what that felt like. I would never even have a real conversation with my dad. I didn't realize till later in life that the reason and result of this would be the basis for all my self-induced trauma.
Those 30 acres were my parents' paradise. A place they never cared to leave. To me the long, dirt driveway in was just a long rode I would never reach the end of.
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