James Dean's Got Nuthin' On Me

All those centuries ago when they celebrated the Grand Arrival of Me, they had no idea what they'd gotten themselves into.

For that matter, neither did I.

Oh, I'm sure they had some idea when I refused to pull up my own panties after going to the bathroom, or poured my milk down the driveway as my father was washing the car because I didn't like it, or cut my sister's hair with paper doll scissors when she was a baby. I'm sure they knew something was up later on when I locked my sister in the bathroom and told her Mom had gone down the bathtub drain and would never be coming home again. They weren't surprised when I used to make Sis have fudgesicle races with me to see who could eat one the fastest, then after she'd gobbled hers down I'd sit and tantalize her with mine just to be mean. They knew they were in for it when I would run crying from the room at some perceived slight to either slam my bedroom door and throw myself wailing across the bed, or tear out of the house and down the street to the park to ruminate in tears over the Unfairness of It All.

And it only got worse.

They stood by as I broke not only my ankle, but the hearts of tens of boys. But it didn't end there. They saw my heart broken by tens of boys in return. They watched as I went down many wrong roads, and let me get lost enough to find myself. It all took years. And years. And years.

I was and am a rebel. I have always had to live through the bad parts in order to appreciate the good parts. It's something I've never outgrown.

It's something I really hate about myself.

You see, I always wanted to be the good girl. I always wanted to be the one who always obeyed, who always set a good example for others, who always made her bed, helped little old ladies across the street, and ate her liver and onions with a smile. I really did.

I wanted to dress up every day, apply the perfect makeup, be part of the perfect family, do good deeds, rush home to do my homework, fly through my chores, and do the very best I could at my part-time job. I wanted to be an honor student, a cheerleader, a member of both the band and the orchestra, an actress, and to win every scholarship known to man.

But I got in the way of me.

(To Be Continued....)