I Come By It Honestly

I read a book once on birth order and how that shapes who you are. Well, ok, I didn’t read the whole book; I skimmed it – focusing more on the parts that I thought related to me. But I’ve still got it and may someday read the entire thing. It was an interesting read. What I read of it.

I am the fourth of five children. The first three children (two brothers and a sister) were all two years apart. Seven years later, I came along; and seven years later, my little sister came along. So, it came as little surprise to me that the author stated when there are five years or more between siblings, children grow up basically as only children. Without the closeness in years and the shared experience, there is little to bond the later child(ren) to the older one(s).

We lived in “the country” until I was about nine - as opposed to my peers who grew up “in town” (town being a population of about 1,800 inhabiting about 100 blocks). Shortly after my little sister was born we did move to town, but my personality was pretty much formed by then. It’s funny how light bulbs go off in your head when you least expect them. Yesterday on my morning stroll – excited over discovering a black butterfly I’d never captured before and quite literally stumbling upon a social goldfinch munching on a dried sunflower – I thought about my childhood.

We didn’t have a lot of money back then and material things didn’t come easily, so toys weren’t a big option. Let’s just say I was left to my own resources a lot to provide entertainment. We lived on a farm, although others farmed the land, so I didn’t have chores. We didn’t have pets because, well, I’m not sure why we didn’t have pets; but they weren’t an option as entertainment. What I was left with was a lot of time and an imagination. I wandered the farmland and the fields and the back roads – always alone (this was before the days of child abduction) - wishing I was anywhere but where I was. This prompted me to daydream a lot ~ beaming myself to faraway places and imagining myself as someone famous – someone in the spotlight – someone talented and special and beloved by all. In retrospect I can see that was a cry (if only in my own mind) for attention. I did, after all, spend an inordinate amount of time alone. And my parents were of the generation who believed that it was a disservice to praise a child for anything, lest that child get “a big head.”

So now – in the present - as I start each day with my three constant companions – my dog, my camera and my imagination – I’m in my comfort zone. When I had my little epiphany yesterday I realized that my childhood – good or bad – truly did shape who I am today. I’m not a huge “people person.” I enjoy people, but I don’t need to be around them all the time (or even much of the time) to feel complete and content. I have – as someone once said – a lot of inner resources. I’m good at entertaining myself; but I am lacking at times in social situations (although marrying Mr. Gregarious has helped me progress on that score). I’m seldom bored. I sometimes appear aloof. And maybe I am. I have so many interests I could live three lifetimes and never accomplish all that I want to accomplish.

But there’s still one nagging hangover from childhood. This – what I do – write and capture images – is probably still that lonely little girl seeking approval. I have heard that the one thing people all have in common is the need to be validated. To know that what they do is important and meaningful and good. So the shy country girl hides behind her pen and her lens and hopes that someone will notice her.

But not too much. Or she’ll retreat even farther behind them. And daydream of being anywhere else.