I wish we had more adjectives to describe the nostalgia phenomenon. There is some experiences in which we look on with wistfulness. There are others, that carry the burden of trauma that are held close, nonetheless, and are a necessary visit to the past. This was a terrific piece of observational writing. Very relatable.
Your comment about seeing a girl, who you thought was being abused, triggered a memory for me.
I have no good reason to believe I am right about this. But there have been at least two times in my life (involving different people) where I saw a man (35-ish) and a girl (12-ish), who were probably father and daughter, walking into a store together.
I wouldn’t have paid much attention to the girl but for the fact that she was intently staring at me.
It may be my tendency to “awful-ize”, but I somehow got an extremely strong impression that she was saying help me without saying anything at all. Not even with an expression. I told myself that I had to be wrong. There was just no logical reason for me to have that thought. But I prayed hard anyway.
I know what you mean. It’s impossible to know what’s going on. If my intuition pinged loudly enough, I might go up to a girl in public and ask if she’s ok, but I’m a woman. It wouldn’t be creepy or threatening for me to do that in the way it would for you or other men to do so. You can hope that perhaps you just reminded her of someone, that she was staring at you wondering if you were the dad of her friend who moved away or something like that.
The quote about being "unlovable" really hits, especially since it's one of the things I've recently talked with my therapist about. Like I have no worth if I'm not doing something or producing something. It does stick with children as they grow up, and it does make life more difficult.
I've been feeling as if over the last two weeks I have been digging up (tilling) the garden of my mind and unearthing all the crap that was buried under the earth. But I've been telling myself that by digging it all up, I can replace the weeds with good seeds (new thoughts and beliefs).
Your story reminded me of that because you're intentionally willing to go back to something that can bring up those old emotions, to observe them and re-think about them, and maybe plant some new thoughts/memories about the Walmart (etc) experience there in your mind now.
I, too, dress down. I don't need to - between the paychecks the missus and I earn (and she out-earns me, though we're both well-compensated) and our rental income, we do quite well. I drive a 12 yo truck, she drives a 10 yo MKZ. But working remotely, my normal "uniform" is a plain, brown t-shirt (not cheap) and athletic shorts, accompanied by Under Armour slides. I have 4 or 5 suits hanging in the closet, nice French cuff shirts to go with, and a rack full of ties. I wear them to weddings, funerals, and formal night on cruises. My beard grows down to my collar bones, and the collars start chafing something awful within about 2 or 3 hours of having shaved.
I didn't grow up rich, but we never wanted for anything, either. An annual pilgrimage to the Redneck Riviera, Mom and Dad got my sisters and me used cars when we were about 16 or 17. Compared to how you grew up, I suppose we were rich.
"Never forget where you came from" is one of the great messages I took from this.
I think many do, as they move through levels of success and affluence and then their past becomes an embarrassment and something to run from. And then those people at wal-mart become animals and not people, that they either once were, with all their joys and sorrows or that they knew.
There is much more in your tome, but I'll leave my observations there. Well done being present and observant. It was a good reminder for me, to do the same. It's easy to have your list and get in and out, without noticing the humans around you.
I was a K-Mart kid and I am a Wal-Mart adult. Overall they have a great quality and selection of flowers--annuals and perennials--and trees. But I just like to shop there. Their prices on grocery staples are unbeatable.
A few years ago I was walking through the toy aisle (scoping out stuff my kids might want), and this kid said this to her father: " ¡Papá, nunca me compras un regalo!" Sweet kid, but I don't think that was true!
I really enjoy these pieces in which you document your own introspective process. Rand called man a being of self-made soul—I think it’s through this kind of deliberate observation and thought that a person takes their past experiences and builds something new.
Thank you for this very moving, and I am guessing, very vulnerable story Holly. I think that the way you move easily from your current life where you are taking steps that give you the economic freedom to the images of people shopping in Walmart today is very smooth. Your descriptions, of people dressed in "summer clothing of the working class" cutoff and dirty sneakers helped me to "see" your story as much as read it. And I was moved as you helped me get a sense of your childhood experiences with abuse and how they can be triggered like when seeing a young girl with signs of abuse in their affect. Wow.
Something I would ask you to think about doing differently:
There are two things you mention that seem to have emotional meaning for you that didn't really connect with me because you speak about them at a high level without a connection in your experiences like you did in the rest of the story.
One was where you talked about locked bins related to the "progressive hell" "wrought by "restorative justice." I was wishing to hear you speak of experiences you had that would show things that happened illustrating this in a way I could understand the connection to an image of a hell. The way you put it sounds more like a high level political statement, and that is so different than the moving way you write about other things here.
The other one was when you are talking about the boys carrying purses who didn't look much like the stereotype of a gay person. The part where you say "if carrying purses being normalized means fewer of them head down the path of medical transition, then Praise the Lord for boys carrying purses." I also wished here for something about a personal experience or that of someone you know and what it looked or felt like. As an 80 year old transgender woman I have my own experiences with transitioning medically, and I wanted so much to connect with your experiences about that at a human level.
Again, thank you for your heartfelt writing and honesty. Emily
Ah, somewhat relatable. I was a mix though, my family dynamic changing classes throughout my childhood. A lot of my friends are lower class though, and I wonder, has moving up classes affected your friendships? I'm not sure, maybe it's tall poppy syndrome or something, and although my friends are proud of me, I feel like they feel I am leaving them behind.
I moved thousands of miles away and left everything behind (had to, to stay sane-ish) and didn’t have many friends in college. I used a disability waiver to avoid having to live on campus (a lot of my PTSD triggers would be unavoidable on a campus with drunk people stumbling around). Since then, the only issue is that one of my very good friends makes a lot less money than I do, and sometimes feels weird when I want to pay for things. I understand, since I would feel weird in his shoes, so I do let him pay for things at least sometimes. When I want something expensive, like company for a play or a nice dinner out, I just ask him not to argue with me about it, and he’s a good sport. :)
I identify with this post more than I can even explain. It sounds like we've both taken a leap in monetary class. Here's what I've found that might make you laugh. I tried doing the manicures and the hairdresser and the massages and the brand-name (no labels) clothing. I hated it. I felt like I was wasting time and money all the time. And, it wasn't fun. 2 things I've kept: 1. I have more than one pair of shoes per year now. Not, super expensive but not dirt cheap. I like matching. 2. I still dress for comfort, so I've got my jeans, hoodies, tshirts, and athleisure, but I pay a little more for them because the t-shirts are softer and the jeans fit better. I still like my regular style and no one has to know the brand or cost. I just decided that I like that part of myself.
Yep! I will always love Chuck Taylors, but I buy custom orthotics now, which makes them much more comfortable to wear/walk in.
What you describe makes sense to me, and I kind of do the same thing. Basically, if it’s something I need or really want, anyway, I’ll pay more for an extra nice/extra durable/extra “me” version of it. I needed a clock, so instead of a cheap generic one I got a more expensive math-themed one that makes me smile every time I look at it. That kind of thing.
I have so enjoyed watching your writing mature and develop. This is one of my favorite pieces. I’m looking forward to buying a collection of your essays in hardback some day.
Something is sitting in my drafts now, an essay positing a counterfactual that is one of the biggest challenges I've ever assigned myself. Thank you; I really appreciate hearing this today!!
Outstanding
Thank you.
I wish we had more adjectives to describe the nostalgia phenomenon. There is some experiences in which we look on with wistfulness. There are others, that carry the burden of trauma that are held close, nonetheless, and are a necessary visit to the past. This was a terrific piece of observational writing. Very relatable.
Thank you. 🙏
Real life described in living color. Love the artwork on your sneakers and looking forward to more of your writing.
Thank you. 😊
Your comment about seeing a girl, who you thought was being abused, triggered a memory for me.
I have no good reason to believe I am right about this. But there have been at least two times in my life (involving different people) where I saw a man (35-ish) and a girl (12-ish), who were probably father and daughter, walking into a store together.
I wouldn’t have paid much attention to the girl but for the fact that she was intently staring at me.
It may be my tendency to “awful-ize”, but I somehow got an extremely strong impression that she was saying help me without saying anything at all. Not even with an expression. I told myself that I had to be wrong. There was just no logical reason for me to have that thought. But I prayed hard anyway.
I know what you mean. It’s impossible to know what’s going on. If my intuition pinged loudly enough, I might go up to a girl in public and ask if she’s ok, but I’m a woman. It wouldn’t be creepy or threatening for me to do that in the way it would for you or other men to do so. You can hope that perhaps you just reminded her of someone, that she was staring at you wondering if you were the dad of her friend who moved away or something like that.
The quote about being "unlovable" really hits, especially since it's one of the things I've recently talked with my therapist about. Like I have no worth if I'm not doing something or producing something. It does stick with children as they grow up, and it does make life more difficult.
I've been feeling as if over the last two weeks I have been digging up (tilling) the garden of my mind and unearthing all the crap that was buried under the earth. But I've been telling myself that by digging it all up, I can replace the weeds with good seeds (new thoughts and beliefs).
Your story reminded me of that because you're intentionally willing to go back to something that can bring up those old emotions, to observe them and re-think about them, and maybe plant some new thoughts/memories about the Walmart (etc) experience there in your mind now.
Excellent, Holly.
I, too, dress down. I don't need to - between the paychecks the missus and I earn (and she out-earns me, though we're both well-compensated) and our rental income, we do quite well. I drive a 12 yo truck, she drives a 10 yo MKZ. But working remotely, my normal "uniform" is a plain, brown t-shirt (not cheap) and athletic shorts, accompanied by Under Armour slides. I have 4 or 5 suits hanging in the closet, nice French cuff shirts to go with, and a rack full of ties. I wear them to weddings, funerals, and formal night on cruises. My beard grows down to my collar bones, and the collars start chafing something awful within about 2 or 3 hours of having shaved.
I didn't grow up rich, but we never wanted for anything, either. An annual pilgrimage to the Redneck Riviera, Mom and Dad got my sisters and me used cars when we were about 16 or 17. Compared to how you grew up, I suppose we were rich.
I remember as a kid if dad was particularly flush with Cash we’d go to the big city with a bigger Walmart! Supercenters were rare then.
And maybe Pizza Hut.
Honestly, still today most of our groceries comes from Walmart. My protein powder and my wife and I’s clothes are usually ordered online.
My pants are from Walmart’s site so I split the difference there.
"Never forget where you came from" is one of the great messages I took from this.
I think many do, as they move through levels of success and affluence and then their past becomes an embarrassment and something to run from. And then those people at wal-mart become animals and not people, that they either once were, with all their joys and sorrows or that they knew.
There is much more in your tome, but I'll leave my observations there. Well done being present and observant. It was a good reminder for me, to do the same. It's easy to have your list and get in and out, without noticing the humans around you.
I hope it's a great weekend for you!
❤️❤️❤️
This is one of the kinds of writing I really like. Well done.
Thank you. ❤️
I was a K-Mart kid and I am a Wal-Mart adult. Overall they have a great quality and selection of flowers--annuals and perennials--and trees. But I just like to shop there. Their prices on grocery staples are unbeatable.
A few years ago I was walking through the toy aisle (scoping out stuff my kids might want), and this kid said this to her father: " ¡Papá, nunca me compras un regalo!" Sweet kid, but I don't think that was true!
I really enjoy these pieces in which you document your own introspective process. Rand called man a being of self-made soul—I think it’s through this kind of deliberate observation and thought that a person takes their past experiences and builds something new.
Thank you for this very moving, and I am guessing, very vulnerable story Holly. I think that the way you move easily from your current life where you are taking steps that give you the economic freedom to the images of people shopping in Walmart today is very smooth. Your descriptions, of people dressed in "summer clothing of the working class" cutoff and dirty sneakers helped me to "see" your story as much as read it. And I was moved as you helped me get a sense of your childhood experiences with abuse and how they can be triggered like when seeing a young girl with signs of abuse in their affect. Wow.
Something I would ask you to think about doing differently:
There are two things you mention that seem to have emotional meaning for you that didn't really connect with me because you speak about them at a high level without a connection in your experiences like you did in the rest of the story.
One was where you talked about locked bins related to the "progressive hell" "wrought by "restorative justice." I was wishing to hear you speak of experiences you had that would show things that happened illustrating this in a way I could understand the connection to an image of a hell. The way you put it sounds more like a high level political statement, and that is so different than the moving way you write about other things here.
The other one was when you are talking about the boys carrying purses who didn't look much like the stereotype of a gay person. The part where you say "if carrying purses being normalized means fewer of them head down the path of medical transition, then Praise the Lord for boys carrying purses." I also wished here for something about a personal experience or that of someone you know and what it looked or felt like. As an 80 year old transgender woman I have my own experiences with transitioning medically, and I wanted so much to connect with your experiences about that at a human level.
Again, thank you for your heartfelt writing and honesty. Emily
Ah, somewhat relatable. I was a mix though, my family dynamic changing classes throughout my childhood. A lot of my friends are lower class though, and I wonder, has moving up classes affected your friendships? I'm not sure, maybe it's tall poppy syndrome or something, and although my friends are proud of me, I feel like they feel I am leaving them behind.
I moved thousands of miles away and left everything behind (had to, to stay sane-ish) and didn’t have many friends in college. I used a disability waiver to avoid having to live on campus (a lot of my PTSD triggers would be unavoidable on a campus with drunk people stumbling around). Since then, the only issue is that one of my very good friends makes a lot less money than I do, and sometimes feels weird when I want to pay for things. I understand, since I would feel weird in his shoes, so I do let him pay for things at least sometimes. When I want something expensive, like company for a play or a nice dinner out, I just ask him not to argue with me about it, and he’s a good sport. :)
Thank you for this word picture. KMart was the budget clothier of my childhood. Your thoughts on class climbing resonated.
Thank you, and thank you for reading!!
I identify with this post more than I can even explain. It sounds like we've both taken a leap in monetary class. Here's what I've found that might make you laugh. I tried doing the manicures and the hairdresser and the massages and the brand-name (no labels) clothing. I hated it. I felt like I was wasting time and money all the time. And, it wasn't fun. 2 things I've kept: 1. I have more than one pair of shoes per year now. Not, super expensive but not dirt cheap. I like matching. 2. I still dress for comfort, so I've got my jeans, hoodies, tshirts, and athleisure, but I pay a little more for them because the t-shirts are softer and the jeans fit better. I still like my regular style and no one has to know the brand or cost. I just decided that I like that part of myself.
Yep! I will always love Chuck Taylors, but I buy custom orthotics now, which makes them much more comfortable to wear/walk in.
What you describe makes sense to me, and I kind of do the same thing. Basically, if it’s something I need or really want, anyway, I’ll pay more for an extra nice/extra durable/extra “me” version of it. I needed a clock, so instead of a cheap generic one I got a more expensive math-themed one that makes me smile every time I look at it. That kind of thing.
Exactly!
I have so enjoyed watching your writing mature and develop. This is one of my favorite pieces. I’m looking forward to buying a collection of your essays in hardback some day.
Something is sitting in my drafts now, an essay positing a counterfactual that is one of the biggest challenges I've ever assigned myself. Thank you; I really appreciate hearing this today!!