Childhood Reflections

Birth, transition and contemplation

I think my earliest memory is of me walking in on my parents having sex. I must have been three years old and I needed a towel from taking a bath so I knocked on the door. Our stairwell was so narrow and once at the top there were two doors, one to the left and one to the right. You can feel sexual energy even as young as three. I could feel something different and I was curious about it. When I was four I made out with my three year old cousin and looking back my fascination with sex started early. As a baby I figure that I must have been exposed to sexual energies that make me have such strong urges at times. At the time I was born I know my mother and father were still happy, or at least intimate still, so I’m pretty sure they did f**k a lot, unknowingly making me semi-obsessed with sexual exploration. Even at that age there were masculine vibes radiating from my older sister and it was pretty obvious that I was the “girly”, at least “girlyer” than her. Poison ivy was on our left and a family with an in ground pool to our right; remembering and old lady who I think was named Helen giving us little mermaid comforters when we moved out. Those times were of discovery, and wonder and intrigue.

Moving to Plainfield (NJ) was such a blur, that for some reason I can’t remember as vividly this part of my life as I can for even farther memories, maybe because it was so good that nothing stands out. Living in a giant pink house, in an all-white kitchen with a glass table and marble countertops; spiraling staircase that went up four floors; four bathrooms with very distinct pleasant smells and auras; a picture perfect Christmas tree with a collector’s railroad set riding smoothly underneath; glass china, expensive cookies, learning to play piano and chess; excelling in school and being constantly praised; and the kisses of a stranger that initially did a favor, and turned into an act of care. The most beautiful days of my childhood were in that house and as far as I could see, I lived a perfect life. Eventually my mother’s income became more stable and we moved into another house in Plainfield with my aunt and again, living the most beautiful life until my parents began arguing.

At this point my father still lived in Trenton with his mistress turned mate and their child, my younger sister, and as far as old photos show he was still in my, well our (me and my brother's) lives. Both of my parents were pretty close to absolutely broke but as a child I had no clue of it. Going to the park until the sun started falling, dairy queen as it set. Now that I think of it the park has become my place of escape now as someone who has grown. Has it always been or was I taught this love for earthly things?  Dumping all the s****y, used up toys in the cardboard box and traveling galaxies in our imagination; it was all us. Children are born clean and curious, it's the world that teaches otherwise. We didn't know what should or could be, we just knew it was new, and we had love and one another.