Last Line Blog Fest - click me to see host :)

These are the last paragraphs of the first chapter of my memoir (WIP) WE'RE NOT ORDINARY PEOPLE

PS: This is the last 25 lines of my word doc so don't scold me for it being more here please *wince* *ducks from swinging hand*

As far as I can remember, my early childhood was pretty much the way early childhood should be. Aside from the fact that my school teachers couldn’t quite figure out who to direct their feedback to during parent teacher interviews—my mum, my step father, Demetri, my biological father (hereby known as John) or John’s wife (hereby known as Mary). And aside from the fact that I’d occasionally get to sing on Mum and Demetri’s albums, or appear in music videos dressed in my neighbour’s red sparkly callisthenics costume, regardless of the fact that the clip was being filmed in black and white. And aside from the fact that … ok, my early childhood wasn’t normal either, but I was happy. I was happier than any other kid at five. I did after all have four loving parents to take care of me.

But. As time heals all wounds, time can also create them. I’ll never forget the day I realised we weren’t like everybody else. I think I was about six years old. My mum came to pick me up from school and I could see her thick black gothic eyebrows walking up the street before I could actually see her. I could also see everybody staring. It hadn’t ever occurred to me before that not all mothers drew their eyebrows on. I also came to realise that most women wanted to make their eyebrows thinner, not thicker, which posed another question that I needed answering at a later point. As she bent down to give me a kiss and take my school bag to carry, I said, ‘Please don’t wear your eyebrows to school again.’

That’s the day things stopped being simple and my happiness began to represent a struggle. Of course, now that I look back, I realise how much Mum loved me and wasn’t out to embarrass me, or to hurt me for that matter. But kids at that age can only see what’s on the surface. And what I saw was not the pair of sparkling blue-grey eyes that oozed with delight and pride at the sight of me waiting for her patiently behind the school gate, what I saw, and continued to see until my early twenties, was the pair of embarrassing black lines above them.

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PS: It's very possible I will not turn my computer on again until Monday. But, when I do, I promise I'll get to all of the other blog fest entries! It's my partner's birthday and I promised I would devote him all my attention. Have a great weekend everyone! :)