Childhood
The Tales of a Flustering Valentina
Born on January 29th, in a small city in Mexico our heroine burst out from her mother’s womb, 6 hours into labor, ready to face the world. The nurse, overworked and tired, runs out “It’s a boy!” she shouts and returns to clean the baby as the family waiting outside erupts in shouts of joy. Exactly 10 minutes later the attending doctor walks out with a baby girl. With all the corruption in Mexico the family is skeptical and demands to know why they were told the baby was a boy but bring out a girl. The doctors are quick to reassure the family that there were no other babies born on the same day and upon further investigation they arrive to the conclusion that when they picked up the baby she had a bit of poo stuck to her bottom, not to mention she was a little hairy thing, and therefore the tired nurse got confused. Relieved and happy the family decide to name her Valentina, a name meaning bravery and strength, a name for a brave soldier. She has always felt this name was an oxymoron, and that it cursed her to be faced with many embarrassing tales.
By Magdaleno Jaimes5 years ago in Confessions
Kindergarten Murder
Learning about yourself is one of the most rewarding parts of living. Finding that piece of information that helps you understand yourself more feels like finding a missing puzzle piece. It is the biggest breath of fresh air. I learned at a very young age that I could take things too far, but it would be years before I would come to understand what to do with that information. I just knew that I would always have to be careful when sharing my darkest moment.
By Alisha Jones5 years ago in Confessions
A concatenation of circumstances
Many years later I would learn that the financial crisis of 2009 had already begun rearing its ugly head in the summer of 2007. But in 2007, the exuberant speculation in the housing market was drowning out the concerns of the few doomsaying bankers and economists. Wall Street was deluged in a rain of money. Some droplets from that downpour had also managed to percolate into the hands of my father, who, overjoyed by his fortuitous investments, had whisked us off to San Francisco for a family vacation.
By Kshitij Kothari5 years ago in Confessions
Snotty-Nosed Brat
I was a challenging kid. I was often withdrawn, played with my toys a lot, was moody and emotional, and I could throw a temper tantrum like no one else. I was sensitive and awkward and had learned whether through nature or nurture to avoid conflict. Sure, I was bullied at school, but I was in the middle rungs of the social ladder. I often found it easier to get along with my teachers than my peers and I had a good rapport with most of them.
By Leif Conti-Groome5 years ago in Confessions
I Left My Dad Without Saying Goodbye
Is making amends before someone dies always possible or necessary? For more than ten years of my life, I wanted to believe my dad did change. I felt it was my duty to build a relationship with him. His kidney problems then later a possible tumor influenced this decision. Never mind the unjustified wrath he poured out onto my mom, my first two brothers, and me when we all still lived with him.
By Julie "US Writer" Anne 5 years ago in Confessions
Low Down Dirty Shame
Every adult has a horrific, gut wrenching, hell dwelling, embarrassing story from their childhood that has made them wish the neuralyzer from Men in Black was real. I happen to have one of those stories, so buckle up and prepare to have cringeworthy feelings arise. This all started when I was fifteen, at which point my was relatively boring, I had had a few embarrassing moments occur but most of which I was able to repress. Until that point, I pretty much had a handle on my life, as a kid I got hospitalized a lot with one sickness or another, or some new found allergy that had arisen.
By Tony Phiri5 years ago in Confessions
The Koi Pond Incident
Choosing the most embarrassing moment to write about is like trying to guess how many grains of sand are on a beach. Or which pair of Nikes are my favorite. Or which anime OP song I’d want played at my funeral. The more I think about it, the more my answer changes. Embarrassing, regretful moments outline the story that is my life. As condescending and sad as it sounds, I think I have more of these moments than I do accomplishments. I’m cool with the person I am right now for the most part, and I can honestly say I’m trying to improve myself. Therefore, writing this isn’t a painful upchuck of memory but more of a cathartic flashback. Like I said though, there are alot of options to write about -- so I decided on the earliest one I could remember.
By Arman 5 years ago in Confessions
Shart Through the Heart
Every morning, growing up in hot, sunny Saudi Arabia; it was a constant sweaty tale of heaving, puffing, dressing up in a navy blue and white uniform, and being escorted by my nanny (referred to as a maid in the Middle East, the not-so-political term, have you) to the very bus stop that made my heart give out palpitations every time I approached it after the most cringe-worthy incident of my life.
By Sana Alibux5 years ago in Confessions
