Hey Pandas, What Was Something That Shaped Your Childhood? (Closed)

Adoptee here. Born and raised in 70’s. What dramatically shaped my childhood was my mother constantly reminding me that she could and would, “take me back where I came from”. I was very well provided for and most people would say I was, “spoiled”. They knew my mother was a little high strung but no one knew how insidious her abuse really was. One example is she angrily packed my suitcase one day to send me “back” and told me that she wouldn’t need to pack me any dresses because I wouldn’t need anything nice where I was going. My daddy came home and had a FIT. My dad was my lifeline when I was growing up taking me with him everywhere. Even just going outside to change the oil or mow the lawn with him helped ease my nerves. I should mention that this daddy is not the one that adopted me! He’s the one my mom married after my original dad passed away. He was/is the best man I have ever known. I gave him a kidney in 2009.

Reading donald duck comic books. Seeing the character Gyro and how amazing his inventions were made me want to be a scientist. And in my child mind the way to become a scientist was to study and be as nerdy as I can be. So I started imitating the weird way nerdy kids talked in tv shows (think double D from ed edd and eddy), participating in nerdy hobbies, and working so hard to be a straight A student just so that I can be a scientist like Gyro. Unfortunatly, all that got me was no friends, being bullied a lot in school and a whole lot of unrealistic expectations from my parents and teachers that I failed to achieve. Problem is that I am still trying to achieve this goal (7 years in uni still trying to get a bachelors degree and counting) even though in my mind it turned into nothing but a curse instead of a dream. maybe once I actually achieve it it will be all worth it.

When my mother asks me why I am not as pretty or as bright as my classmate. It shaped my entire childhood with low self esteem to the point where there are times when the default action was doing what she wanted me to do rather than me, being reasonably independent.

Mom hugs.
Cooking with maternal grandmother.
Watching sunsets with my dog.
Learning to dance from my mom, with the vacuum as a "partner", to her fave tunes on vinyl.
The combined smell of wild strawberry blossoms and the hayfield.

There are so many carry over's from my childhood. One I'll do to my dieing day. We never left the house, ever, without a sturdy piece of cardboard with our name, address and phone number in one of our pockets. I always have I.D. on my person. My momma, she didn't pull any punches. When I asked her why, she said she didn't want to have to identify my (our bodies, brother & sister's) body at the morgue if anything ever happened to use. Back in the day, she also made sure we had money for the payphone, if we ever needed to call home. Miss you Momma.

Singing the Tickety toc theme song while dancing with my giant white teddy bear in my Winnie-the-Pooh themed room.
My dad throwing me up in the air above the couch with the Lumineers playing
My mom putting on Bo on the Go while making dinner
The occasional visit’s to the children’s museum
Going to my dad’s office on my days off school

Those were the days.

Being bullied all day at school, coming home and being bullied by my older sister.It was hell.

Okay so, when i was younger, my dad would yell at my brothers a lot, and sometimes my mom too. And I guess that just made me not to get yelled at and made me scared whenever someone would yell.

For example: one time I was in school (7th grade) a teacher asked me where I was going in a really loud and mad voice. I thought it was my dad for a second and I started crying and panicking.

I’ve started recovering since then, and I’m slowly starting to stand up for myself more, but yelling definitely shaped me as a child… I had lots of panic attacks when people yelled too… I’m having less of them, fortunately.

Anyways, thats my story I guess.

The Beatles on Ed Sullivan, Sunday night, 7:00 P.M., February 9, 1964, changed my world! Everything in every day life fell away and showed me music & fun! Over night there was more to life than dad going to work every day, mom always cleaning, me spending every day in school. Suddenly, there was a whole universe of possibilities, and all the music over the entire world became available and accessible. “I Wanna Hold Your Hand . . . .” Thanks, guys! (And I'm still playing & singing!)

The love of all kinds of music my mother passed down to us kids. Everything from big band/swing, to singers like Engelbert Humperdinck, Tom Jones, Petula Clark to The Who , The Rolling Stones (her favourite rock band), to Motown, and then some.
When one of my brothers bought an album by The Tubers - he had her listen to a song they sang in Spanish. She liked it.
When I bought a record by The Police, the same brother teased me, skk ok my mom told him to shut up, and leave the room so she could hear them sing. She said some of their tunes sounded reggae, but it was good.
When MTV actually played music videos, she would stay up late catching up on laundry, and watch tv . Mind you, at the time she was in her 70’s, and going strong. One night (in the wee hours), she woke me and said “they’re playing a video of a bunch of men wearing dresses in a boat in a pretend swamp. Come tell me who it is “
I got up, and it was The Red Hot Chili Peppers.
She loved her Tejano music, and classic Mexican songs. She had a beautiful voice.
When dementia took her, she could still remember all the words to all the songs she ever sang.
But she still didn’t know who I was.
Our last moment together was her laying in her hospital bed at home, us holding hands, and singing “Miss You” by The Rolling Stones. Her favourite song by them.

On Saturday nights my father would go to the corner candy store around midnight to buy the Sunday paper. When he got it home, he would go to the kitchen to read the serious news sections and give the comics to my mother.

My brother and I had our Saturday night bath. Our hair was washed. We had on fresh pajamas. My mother put fresh sheets on the beds.

My brother sat on one side of my mother and I sat on the other while she read us the comics, doing all the sound effects. She explained what whoosh lines meant, what it meant when gnats flew out of wallets, what it meant when there were drops coming out of people's heads. It was heaven.

That's how I learned to love reading and why I still love reading.

Having to study the Bible and other texts in Sunday School got me interested in thinking about the big questions of life: where did we come from and why, what's the purpose of human life, is there a natural, universal foundation of morals for humankind, is there a realization of reality that's greater and more true than what I've always considered to be real, what happens at death, etc. I eventually stopped going to Sunday School, but stayed interested in such questions, the study of which has been truly fascinating.

Being in the yard with the other kids from my apartment block

Before moving: Playing on my grandparents' house's roof with both my cousins and other friends when I was 3/4 yo. After moving: Watching morning cartoons on Cartoon Network while mum fed me breakfast, and waiting additional 30 mins after school with her so that we could walk home together.

Ok, so this probably isn't quite what is expected of this post, but here goes....

My mom died when I was 15. My dad and I were never very close. He spent most of his time shut in his bedroom. I ended up moving out to a friend's house when I was 17. It was at a party at that house where I met the girl that would eventually become my wife.
I think that if my mom hadn't died, I would have never met her. We've been together for over 30 years now.

honestly moving schools. I went to 8 schools in 8 years. At least now I like making new friends; for me, it is a challenge to be patient and keep loving the preexisting friends.

Something from my childhood which influenced my adulthood. I was born in 1970 and was an avid fan of 40's cartoons (think bugs bunny). In a lot of those cartoons, you would often see just the calf, ankle and show of a lady. Well, shoes in the 40's were ankle strap platform heels and they were FABULOUS! Fast forward to adulthood and I'm heavily into 40's fashion. I also dabble in 30's and 50's (my car is a '55 Ford Fairlane), but 40's everything is my favorite.

I was 5 years old. My brother was 2 years old. He quickly learned that if he wanted anything all he had to do was cry and my parents would automatically assume that I had done something to make him cry and thus punish me - usually by hitting me.

My parents divorce. My bio mom basically handed us over to our dad and was fine not being a big part of our life. All in all, that by itself would not have been the biggest deal, because I was so young when they got divorced that I couldn't miss something I never had. But when I was around 10 or 12 I was sexually assaulted by my stepdad. Because I was so young I did not realize till I was around 11 that what he was doing was most likely grooming me. My mom ignored signs, and when she finally mentioned this to the cops, I wasn't allowed to visit for a month. My mom made no effort to have us come over and I have not seen her for 6 years. So, she chose the man who sexually assualted Me over her daughter, and then had and another daughter with him and posts pictures on Facebook of their "perfect family". So now I have abandonment issues. Yay.

Going to summer camp that my parents didn't know was run by religious extremists. When those wack jobs learned my parents were non-believers, they harassed me no end. They told me I would roast in Hell for eternity. They turned the other kids against me and tried to make me admit that my father molested me. This gave me a very bad impression of religion. I realize there are good believers out there, but those a-holes completely destroyed any and all chance that I would ever be religious.