Happy Sunday! Sofia from Photographias is leading this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge and the topic of “Looking Back” was chosen.Continue reading “Lens-Artists Photo Challenge #232: Looking Back”
✋I am raising my virtual hand, Terri! I do remember the WordPress Weekly Photo Challenges.Continue reading “#SundayStills: #Vivid Memories of Early Photography Days”
What is a life lesson you feel everyone can benefit from learning?
If there’s anything I’ve learned in my 30 years on Earth is you cannot count on anyone but yourself. This lesson was cemented into my core when I was young when my mom left for the U.S and I was left in China.
She recently revealed to me as we were scanning and digitizing old pictures that she didn’t know I was going to be treated so awful when she left.
I was 7-year-old when she left. She told me she was just going to tour America and that she was going to be back before I know it but she ended up staying and didn’t return until 3 years later, during which I was constantly lectured and punished for being a girl while my male cousins were being spoiled like little princes.
Less than a year after mom left, my aunt, uncle, cousin, and I went shopping in a department store. I was browsing when the ladies around me started screaming, one even fainted. At first I didn’t know what was going on but then one of them shrieked, “your hand.” That’s when I realized blood was spurting from my left hand.
Why I didn’t feel anything? I’m not sure.
Meanwhile, my tiny cousin was standing next to me, in his hand was a bloody cleaver, and my aunt and uncle were nowhere to be found. Who lets their 2-year-olds run around the store? Beats me. And what kind of department puts cleaver display on the lower shelf? Again beats me.
Anyway, it wasn’t long until the adults appeared and my bloody hand was wrapped in cloth and we were walking to the hospital, which, thankfully, was next to the department store. My uncle accompanied me to get my hand stitched while my aunt waited outside as she has a fear of blood.
It was during the stitching when my pain finally registered in my brain. “I’ll get you some ice cream when we’re done here, I promise.” My uncle said when I began sniffing, trying to hold back my tears.
He never fulfilled that promise. The moment we got home that afternoon was the moment they treated like the last few hours never happened. The ice cream never came up again and that’s when I realized, adults lie. They don’t keep their promises.
It was also that moment I promised to get myself whatever I want when I am grown up and have a job because the only person I can only ever trust is myself.
What was your favorite toy as a child?Continue reading “#Bloganuary Prompt Day 4 – Favorite Toy”
As I mentioned in a post last week, I am posting my new speech which I have written for Toastmaster today. This is the speech I’m set to present today. Wish me luck and hope you enjoy this semi-fictional story. Continue reading “Three Years, Three Months, Twenty Days”