I would say that I have probably lived a far more strange life than most Mormons have. The shelter of the Utah bubble since my arrival to the States at the age of nine has been in most my years, a non-existent Mormon myth. I am grateful for the experiences I have lived that will maybe someday bring in financial gain with some sort of book deal, but as I reach the wonderful and dreadful age of 25, I look back at my life and wonder what it all means.
I have been rebellious most of my life. My personality, by nature, is one of mischief and trouble. I think it began on the playgrounds of the private schools I went to in Mexico. I was this skinny, large headed kid, in the middle of rich, snobby types whose lack of parental control caused them to act out in places outside the home. I was always picked on for being the quiet kid, the one that was never good at sports and would rather sit by himself and doodle in his writing notebook. But when the chance to start a new life in the States came to me, I knew that it was my opportunity to start over and decide what type of kid I would be.
I arrived here when I was nine. I was the new guy in town who spoke little to no English. At the time, Utah had not experienced the Latin boom that it did a few years after, so I was the brand new and exciting toy for everyone to explore! I quickly learned English, thanks to all the new white girls I had attracted that were inviting me to their homes and bringing me to dinner like a show and tell project. I think my love for women began here, unless we count the times in kindergarten when I was receiving free cookies from this little blonde girl in return for kisses, but that’s another story.
Since the age of 9, somehow I always got in trouble around my birthday. What is it about my birthday that causes me to want to do naughty things? I remember one particular time, it was 5th grade and there was a kid by the name of Spencer. His house had that awful smell of urine, and I knew it was because of him. He tried being my friend so much that I actually started hanging out with him after school. We would play monsters with my little sister whom I walked home every day. But then there was that awful day I felt he had roughed her up a little more than I would have liked. I tackled little Spencer to the ground and knocked him out cold with a swift punch to the eye. I panicked! I knew I would be in deep trouble. So I took some pencil led and darkened my eye so it would look as if he had hit me too, bad idea. This only made my teacher more upset because I was trying to hide the fact I had attacked this kid in what looked to be “no good reason”. A year later, again, around my birthday, he had been sick for several days and all the kids were collecting valentines for him to send to his home (my birthday is 2 days after Valentine’s Day). I found a Valentine of some masked duck shooting some sort of love gun, but I changed it so the duck was telling Spencer that he was going to kill him, I know I know, really bad idea. I sent him his Valentine and knew I would be in deep trouble. But being the mischievous person that I am, I disconnected the phones from the walls on my birthday so Spencer’s parents would not call and ruin my birthday fun! Well, they showed up to the house the following day and I was in deep trouble.
I could go on and on about all the different times I have been in trouble around my birthday, but I don’t feel I need to air out my dirty laundry, ha ha. My point is that this has been a problem most my life, and it doesn’t make sense sometimes because I have a very spiritual and good person inside me. I think I have mentioned in previous posts that I feel like 2 very different human beings, and of course this is natural in most cases. But mine are so different that sometimes I worry I need to start seeking professional help! Either that or I just need to find that happy medium where both can coexist? I don’t have the answers; all I know is that this is me. I am who I am, and deep down I know I need both of these personalities, or else I wouldn’t be me.
