a piece of history

It angers me to think that childhood was full of cruel jokes. Jokes played on me and each other.
Jokes of competition:
“I have, but you don’t.”
“I’m smart, but you’re not.”
“I’m loved, but you are a slave who must settle for what you’re allowed.”
And my personal favorite:
“If I want what you have or what you have been promised, then you won’t get it.”

I used to sit and cry about not getting my Grandmother’s china cabinet. It was promised to me when I was nine years old. I was the only one ever allowed to play with the special items inside of it. May sound silly to you, but I loved that old piece of furniture.

Seems my Grandmother left it to my Dad and it sits in his house. He decided he wanted it and I could have it after he passed away. He tried using it against me to get favors done until I’d had enough of the game. I went out and bought one; he was really angry about that. A reaction I didn’t really expect.

So what I gleaned from this was what I call, “dangling the carrot”. Farmers would attach a carrot with string to a pole. Then dangle the carrot in front of the nose to get their mule to move. The mule would continually try to grab the carrot. As soon as the mule would get close, the farmer would yank the pole and move the carrot away. I didn’t feel like being the mule.

The best part is… I don’t want to be the farmer either. Just proves that though I’ve been through some strange stuff, I don’t have to exhibit the same behavior. I don’t feel the need to compete with or for people, places or things. You don’t know how freeing that is. I don’t feel the need to be jealous of others, wearing my insecurity on my sleeve. There is no one else like me.