When people ask me where I grew up, the easy thing to say is "New Hampshire." That's where we built a house and spent our summers, and I graduated from high school. But it's far more complicated than that - every school year was defined by a different school in a different place - and that place might be home school in a tent or one of several RVs that we had, in Florida, Arkansas, or Arizona. I never used to think my parents were hippies, but yes, we were vegetarians who ate with chopsticks, my stepdad had long hair and a beard, and we drove a VW bus for a while. I turned out fairly straight, graduating first in my high school class, and getting nearly a full scholarship to an expensive private college. In my twenties, I struggled to fit in the corporate world, hid behind an anxiety disorder, and stayed too long with boyfriend who made the fun better but the pain worse. My thirties have been a deconstructing and reconstructing of self, as I explored my boundaries, gained self esteem, and my career skyrocketed. Now I have come to the sense of knowing my true purpose in life, which does not require a corporate entity to give it meaning.
This blog represents the beginning of what surely will be a long project, and will hopefully turn into a published book: a memoir of my childhood. I welcome your comments and observations.
