Well, it seems that LW’s article has given people cause to pause and reflect and confess the problems of their childhood. So it seems to be my turn, to confess.
Unfortunately I have nothing to confess. My life for the past 40 years has been normal, as generally defined. I have never tried drugs, became intoxicated, been abused in any form by parents or siblings, been arrested. My life, while not idyllic consisted of bike rides, four squares, game night, family vacations.
I am, basically non-social. I can be with others, I just to not prefer it. So my circle of friends was limited.
I enjoyed school and my teachers. They liked me as well. I was a good student of academia if not life in general.
My behavior has never ventured outside of the general mainstream, or past the acceptable confines of a social group.
My relationship with my parents, while at times rocky has always been a loving one, but even now, there are parts of my life that my mother does not understand. My father, best man at my wedding, now gone these pat three years, seemed to get me more.
This is not to say I have not been tempted by the “bad” life, there were times in my youth when there was an urge to rebel, go venture outside the norm, or “comfort zone” as it is called today, but my course was set, and such actions wee not me. So I let my imagination write the stories that part of me wants to live.
I do not think I am one of LWs “happy” people. Happy is too amorphous a concept and as a feeling far too fleeting.
I have reached in my life a place where everything is not to my liking and there are parts I cannot control that I wish I did, but as I look around at what I have in my life, I know what sort of person I am.
I am content.
IG