1983
My mom and stepdad, Roger. Larry, Jean, and me. Thanksgiving The 80's might be my least favorite decade. Revisiting them, I notice a reluctance to fully enter my memory. I think it's because, in the eighties, I was in the part of my "story" where I was truly lost in the world. Uncomfortable with myself, not sure what to do. Not everyone suffers a kind of chameleon-like existence, as I did - where you are acutely and confusedly aware that you comprise several different selves out there in the world, searching for...definition? A place to fit? Satisfaction, perhaps? I wasted time and energy feeling bad about that for most of the decade, in fact. But like most of the actual "growth" involved in growing up, it sorts itself out without your "doing" anything. Over time I had a few conversations with young people who described themselves in that same way, and I suddenly could be helpful, helping them see that it is just "a way" of b...