A long journey all the way here and now ( The story continues, forth part!)

And then… they came the years in which I had a family that most of the people would called “normal”
Normal by the simple fact of being formed by a man a woman, and a few children, in my opinion I have seen many families like these in my teenage years, and I can assure you that they were far from being normal.
Anyway… My mom met a man who had a son. And for a while we were five, which for us was crowd.
We rented a house in colegiales with unintelligible rooms and a staircase like from another planet, but it was my favorite, I would raise and fall that ladder for many years, since we moved there trough all my second childhood until my adolescence, and when we move out from that house many years later, because it was just too large. I Cried, and cried a lot ; because  that house was my forte, my anchor, my creator and my friend, that House had life, and spoke to me.

In the nigh i use to listened attentively because the house secrets were mentioned only during silence. I use to climb  the roof of my room out the window and I would discover the stars, the immensity of the universe  and the frontiers of my own soul surrender by magnificence .
In that House, I had my favorite cats, that they had their kittens and we were many cats for a while, I had my first broken heart, first in a long list, I had thoughts of suicide. I’ve played football in the living room, ate dulce de leche from buckets of ten pounds, spent nights awake talking with best friends when they slip over. I’ve tasted some drugs, I got my firs hangover, listened  to classical music and Charly garcía. Dine on television, studied, drawn,  painted. Cry, fell in love, I’ve wrote. I’ve lost, win, met the solitude, I’ve felt anguish. I’ve revealed, i got angry, I locked up in my room. And more things that have no name.
The family years have flown by  as a burst and we returned to be just the three of us  when mom got tired, and well that she did, of the nights of drunkenness, the bad treatment and the smell of wine in the mornings.

that would be the first time that I would saw her cry, and i would not see her cry many times more in my life .

Strong as just few women and with a heart of a golden mine my mom had the personality of a lion, a strength of honor and respect. I admire my mother for her courage of  raising us without the need of a man to look after her.  She always carried a burden on her shoulder, I admire my mother for her teaching for her kind worlds, for her love, her sensitivity and specially for giving me the push towards the meeting of the Master and in consequence within myself, for her unconditional love,  for her strength, intelligence, sense of humor and her ability to learn and forgive, I thank her for showing me the power of a woman and the strength of humanity, I thank her for showing me the path to a spiritual life and to live a live of honestly and honor. Nothing I could  ever hide from her, we always had the roots that connected us and intrigued us.
When i finish primary school and beteinu, I got  into a hole. Beteinu was that place where i felt secure, because it belonged to me. But now i was facing the whole new world just by myself. Back then I was just an average chunky little girl who was sensitive, and i mean extremely sensitive who was just been thrown to the middle of the arena full of lions. Fear its just a small world that can describe my feelings in the next eight years. it was the first time in my life that i started to see the variety on human kind and how much we are able to hurt each other without even noticing, my first aha of many to come, and my reaction to the rest of the world was hiding, like if it hiding i would be able to avoid the pain of been different, luckily the years have shown me that been different is what defines my life and that ,deep inside ,is the common sensation in any one of us. Felling different its what define us as beings ,  all we have to do is just find each other and admitted. After many years i would actually understand that fear was what all children of my age where feeling, it was just the personalties that where making us react in such a different ways, some where rebellious, some where angry, some where trying to be perfect, or don’t even care. I decided to hide  and i hide for a very, very long time.
With my artistic skills mom enrolled me  at a secondary school of Art which was one hour by bus away from Home. The school schedule was divided into two shifts, in the morning arts and in the afternoon regular high school  , but I lost the day of the enrolling exam so I only got accepted for art in the morning wich it meant that i would have to go to a different school in the afternoon so i got split into two schools one hour away from each other.
During those times Mara and I were as remote as two unknown, she was already on the fifth year of high school experimenting with drugs ,alcohol, boys, parties and friendship. While me, well i was still a child, tr

friends that taught me about friendship

ying to start a new life that it was locking me up more and more inside myself.
That dairy three hour journey trough the city from art school to high school , didn’t work, and i decided to stick with just the high school part in the afternoons, where i would become my adventure trough adolescence, friendship and freedom.
and i became a friend, a friend of just a few but that kind of friendship that would never feel so strong again, because life start to distracts us and we are no longer the same. When we are teenagers we still believe in something and live our innocence trying to obliterate the world,  and then the world pay us back  with a wave of questions to which we cannot find answers. And as soon as we find a response, a piece of soul Withers. And so life gives us the chance to return to irrigate the soul, but the road has been long and relapses.

I didn’t keep any  friends from that time because my life and me personality led me to a trip through the world in which I did not believe in past times. But I remember the depth, the confidence, campings, my first marijuana cigarette, my first time getting really drunk, secretly kisses, photos, more  photos. And also,of course, I remember the eternal sense of feel as an outsider and not belonging, the insecurity about my body, and the jealousy.

Jealousy would be the first master from a long list of feelings to start the
road trough my fight against my own insecurity. And what i have learned is indescribable.


About mariajose160

I am a jeweler designer wishing to share and learn from others about creativity, inspiration, tips, craft, and much more. I am from Argentina, im living In Alabama and i like to share my life stories and my travels. Im also a chef, i love food i love to talk about food, I love to eat and especially i love the rush in the kitchen during night service. I love to work with my team, there are my friends. Creating things is my life, I make jewelry, I paint, I draw, I cook and I like to live a good life full of love, spirituality and creativity. View all posts by mariajose160

One response to “A long journey all the way here and now ( The story continues, forth part!)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

  • Recent Posts

  • Archives

  • Blog Stats

    • 4,126 hits
  • Advertisements
    %d bloggers like this: