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Waving From A Distance's avatar

OMG you have to write a book with all your stories! This one tears the heart out. So much between the line. I don't know how you remember so much from your young years. I have a few memories from Kindergarten, mostly about how I was not "supposed" to play with the toys that belonged to the boys. But that's another story :-)

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Zuzana Zejdova's avatar

Thank you, dear friend! Memories are only half of my stories; the second half is literature. Your memory of “girls and boys toys”… well, it’s pretty interesting! I remember, our teachers were very benevolent in this case; girls could play with cars or build towers… and boys played “family” with the girls. But women had their second shifts in households anyway… strange.

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Hawtorn V. Rabot's avatar

Pliers?!?! That escalated.

All he wanted was to draw penises (penii?) in peace and support his peer's drawing.

Auntie is evil.

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Not Exactly Ana's avatar

I like how someone also talks about this side of childhood - where not everything is flowers and roses. This can't help but remind me of those moments in my childhood when my mother was extremely domineering over me and used physical violence. As well as when I was 10 and had to become an adult because I was the only person who could take my grandfather to the doctor.. Some traumas are from childhood and they are difficult to heal.

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Zuzana Zejdova's avatar

I’m so sorry for what you had to go through. But you know what? The future is up to us! 🫶

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John Rinaldo's avatar

Beautifully written, Zuzana... raw, tender, and haunting.

You captured how innocence meets cruelty and how love turns into disillusionment.

That final line “Love sucks.”, hits hard and stays with you.

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