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Tuesday is share a story here in Wilsonworld....If you want to share (and you KNOW you do) just leave it in the comments, or share your link.....
Today's Story topic...."As a teenager, did you rebel"?
I was a good kid. I really was. I wasn't the type of kid that a parent had to worry about..I knew my curfew, I didn't go to wild parties or drink...and I loved to learn. But there was one thing that drove my parents nuts..And that was my personal choice of clothes and hair. When I was around 15 I decided that I didn't like my hair in its original colour, so I set out to change it...several times. I originally chose a light blonde, which to me was close to my original colour, but just a bit different. It wasn't the colour that drove my mom nuts, it was the style. I shaved my head, but only on one side. Cyndi Lauper style. Buzz cut ton the right, Lady Godiva flowing on the right. I can remember my Father screaming at me one night after I had added some red ( ok it was more like purple) for dramatic effect......"I gave you that hair and I can take it back"! Now add the odd choice in hair to the fact that was almost never seen without my Grandfathers black and white trenches...It made adults nervous. My mother got a phone call one day from one of my friends mothers..informing her that she didn't want me to be around her daughter any more as I was a bad influence on her.....I was an almost straight A student, in the school band, drama club, year book editor (copy only), an executive member of a political youth group....I attended church, sang and did volunteer work........AND I WAS A BAD INFLUENCE?????
My days were filled during my teenage years with band practice and extra practice.....There was a time when I was at my high school at 7am practicing, or working on the year books...often I was not home until 6pm.......I still found time to have a part-time job.....yet I was a BAD INFLUENCE??
And my mother agreed with her.
The fact that I was a "good kid" didn't matter to my mother...But what did matter was the opinion of a woman who lived the life of Betty Cleaver...I still wore my hair and my clothes the way I wanted to, but I think at that point I did it more to piss her off than for my own pleasure......
Years later my mother and I are friends...We have worked hard to forge a relationship that works for us....Part mom, part friend.... She still refers to that time as "When you went through your bad phase"...... I think that phrase captures that time for both of us......
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