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Time heals... nothing
January 02, 2007 | Category: Family, It's a Trip
When I was growing up, I hoarded resentment.
After all, there was so much of it lying around to be had.
I saw the inequities all around me, and it seemed like my straw was always shortest in the sucks-the-worst competitions.
I didn't know then. I didn't know that an upper-middle-class white girl in New England has it so damn good that she doesn't know from inequity.
That little crack in the cosmic egg came later.
In the meantime, back in that time, it was so hard to keep in the anger at the unfairness.
Sometimes, my family still makes choices that baffle me. And there will be this strange Twilight Zone moment when I'll just get so pissed.
Even though, in the long and deep of things, it doesn't really effect me. Even though I immediately snap back.
The conditioning of childhood has left these buttons in me that I don't seem to be able to disarm.
I mean, I'm a grown-up - right? I'm over it.
So why does what they do still just sock me in the gut, if only for a moment?
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