I don't remember much about my childhood before the age of seven.
Except one thing. Every summer from the time I was two till I was thirteen, my mom would send me to my grandpa and grandma's house for the entire summer. At the time I thought that was just really cool, come to find out my mom just needed a break from me. I guess I can see her point.
Anyhow, one summer when I was five my grandmother did the unthinkable.
Now, try to remember that at the tender age of five you are just realizing that boys and girls are different, and you may like that boy from down the street cause he actually lets you play with his toys.
Well, when I was five and left for my grandmothers I was a somewhat cute little girl. Shoulder length hair, liked to wear the dresses, and was excited to turn seven so I could get my ears peirced. My grandmother changed that. She took me to her butcher (NO I WILL NOT CALL HER A HAIRDRESSER) and told her to cut my hair off so I wouldn't be so hot in the summer. I came out of that hell hole looking like her grandson instead of granddaughter. But, being on the farm all summer with the short hair wasn't so bad. I wasn't as hot, and my cousin Ryan didn't pull my hair anymore.
When I got home, to the city, everything was just as bad as you can imagine. All the boys in school treated me as a boy, cause they thought I was one. Plus, I have two older sisters and they are mean. For the entire year it took me to grow my hair out they would call me Gregory (my name if I was a boy, thanks for telling them that secret mom!) And Stephanie, she's the oldest, dressed me in jeans and a flannel shirt for my school picture. Just like a boy. If I show that picture to people now, they can not find me in the group.
Never will I be able to forget that year. So traumatizing. My sisters thought they were funny. We will see who has the last laugh.