I have made the conscious decision this decade to face my demons, challenge my stereotypes, and overcome my dislikes and fears. I will also try, with the help of God, to give up a little control. It’s not like I have full control anyway, I just like to think I do.
I have always loved water. Swimming, the feel of sand beneath my feet. My mom always feared water, but she would watch my brothers and I swim. I could swim all day. Even though we had a cabin up north on the water, we didn’t like swimming there in the weeds. My grandpa built a dock and we did try raking the weeds, but it was an overwhelming task with all of the trees and lily pads. The neighbors a couple cabins down were neighbors at home and they let us swim in their sandy area. They did not always like having us around. I can’t say that I blamed them especially after the time I threw their decorative rocks off the end of the dock. Splash!
My dad came out swimming with us one day. He thought it was funny that I didn’t like weeds. He grabbed me and took me out far into the weeds. He planted my feet in the weeds and laughed as I cried. I was so afraid. The weeds were slimey. There were sticks under my feet and God knows what else. After he let go of me, I had to run through the weeds to get to shore. He found a dead crayfish and threw it at me, hitting me in the leg. He laughed, called me names, and swam back to our cabin in the weeds. I am still afraid of weeds and the things that lurk underneath them.