Despite my playful habits in blocks, watercolor, and coloring books, I managed my time to watch "Sesame Street" and there I learned about alphabet, letters, counting and responding to a host's question. I got exempted to enter kindergarten instead of nursery *first level of preschool before kinder* because one of the examiners saw me wrote my full name, the alphabet, the numbers, the artwork, and I answered correctly when questioned.
Since my pa's an officer in the military, my ma taught me and my ate about our decorum, our status, our dignity and most of all, whenever problems come to family, ma would tell me to stop the drama. She doesn't like my tears running down my cheeks for she only wants to see me smiling. "Don't mind about bad people but seek for the goodness of others." Because I was really brought up differently, I yearned for affections and thus, started to like boys at a very early age.
Before I started going to a religious school, I kissed a boy on his cheek because I don't know how to say sorry. Girls that time don't like me because I always cut Barbie's hair *I thought they would grow but they didn't* and therefore I began not to like Barbie because she's not real. I played with boys because they don't need to worry about getting dirty. One morning I would woke up from my "crib" *two armchairs joined together to form my bed; need the "side guards" because I moved too much while sleeping; and I always ended falling on the floor* when I hear my playmates in the garage playing with their cars in the sand and soil. Ma would scold me for not fixing myself before I eat breakfast and not suppose to be playing when hungry.
But part of me is not promiscuous. I was considered as the future nun at first when I told ma once "I don't want to be pregnant. I'm so scared." That time, I was just a kindergarten kid. I'm trying to figure out why I said that. Maybe it's because women have pains when they give birth. Caesarian?! Normal birth?! IDK,,,
Growing up disciplined by religion and superstitious belief did not make me realized that made me innocent, not knowing what's really going on with the outside world. My ma's ma is afraid after the martial law era: news can now reach out for the unfortunate people. Marcos regime did not allowed bad news in our country and let military rule out until Cory Aquino sat on Malacanang Palace.
I started wearing glasses when I was in prep, a level after kindergarten and a level to take if I don't qualify to accelerate to first grade. I don't know what red marks in my class card meant until one of my teachers explained to me that grades below 74 meant flunks. At the point of fourth grade, my teacher asked my ma to get me a tutor. The weird thing here is that I always dream of having a tutor, but when I finally got one, I realize that it wasn't for fun. I asked her why are we studying ahead of the school topics. She explained that I'm already behind. At this point, my parents asked for my diagnosis from my psychiatrist and the result: autism.
By the time I entered a non-religious school, ma's ma is much more afraid because she no longer see Jesus' cross inside my classroom. Throughout my questioning my teachers, I learned how to deal with different types of people and learned that special children are easily to trust than the people who made fun of me behind my back during my other school years and neighbors as well. Therefore, as reality kicks into my life, I realized that I'm seeking more for love and happiness than money can buy.
The real reason why I was sent to study in the special school at 5th grade because I was an irregular student. Most of my subjects are in sixth grade, but I lacked knowledge in math and science. My classes were held irregularly; sometimes in the 6th grade class, 5th grade class, laboratory for experiments... my eyes opened to colorful flash cards, pop sickle sticks, poker chips, ice cream containers to be able to understand fractions, integers, so on and so forth. Then saw that teachers also taught me to have fun while learning and my curiosities are no longer hungry for knowledge.
By the time my sister said that I'm a special child one night, I couldn't wait for the sunrise to come. As I arrived in school, I asked my teacher if I'm a special child. Before she answered my question, she went in full detail of the different kinds of students like the way she described the different kinds of species in science class. I may have a best friend who has difficulty in academics, but she's gifted in having conversations with one-on-one talk, groups, or crowds of people. When it comes to me, there's one thing I'm known as having a gift on: I may not also learn fast when it comes to subjects in school, but when I was taught to play volleyball for the first time, I was fast enough to learn how to serve the ball. I was good in games like hiding my ability when it comes to hiding and caught someone in my path. Was able to dribble faster while running as well as able to save the ball before it gets out of the platform. I'm one of the fast jumpers when it comes to skipping ropes and garter games. I disliked cow jumps until I get used to it. This is how I started to dream to become an athlete.
Now back to religious ethics as part of my childhood. Of course I do play a lot, but I never experience staying out in the street after 6pm. Why? In ma's ma discipline, I was told that the devil will be roaming around after the minute of the Angelus prayer. To my gullibility, I follow the superstitions. But my neighboring playmates and classmates thought that I don't have one of the rights of the child: 100% freedom. Especially the speech. I'm not allowed to press my opinions to elderly in which a boastful child is considered rude in our "dynasty" especially that we need to follow the 10 commandments as well. Even up to now, I am always ask to go and watch tv when they talk or telling me just to keep my mouth shut when problem is brewing. Another thing: my parents won't let me be when it comes to Sundays. Sundays are family days and therefore, I got no right to miss a sacred mass. The church should be visited every Sunday. But what if my heart is not in it? Of course I notice people looking at me. Why aren't I singing? Why am I not reciting what to say or what to respond? My mind is not present but lurking on dreaming that I'm somewhere else.
My grandma always tell not just my ate and I but my whole family to stick together. The great depression started when one of my uncle could no longer held on to his family. Thus my ma's ma raged on the family he's married to is not religious for religion but for money. The mother-in-law ordered him around driving for her which made my uncle lose his job. He did well at his job, but presence at work is much more important than working fast and the boss doesn't notice him working there. Unfair as it is, he separated from his wife who demanded not his attention, but money. One night I got angry while my cousins spent time in my house when I couldn't sleep at their noisy play and laughter. I really regret when I said this: "Can't you see why your parents are not together anymore? Because your family does not pray together." And therefore blamed the advertisement of "The family that prays together, stays together" in every channel almost every intermission of every program. And now, I see them well off as they meet the future. Because their past is reality: the pain, suffering, weakness... these made them strong no matter what. One of them told me that my classmates maybe have class, but, she could see the secrecy that I can't see during one of the high school reunions at one of my classmates' 18th birthday. Despite my being want to be popular and therefore my being stereotype, I am blind to see that I'm fooled by them.
Or maybe it's because I don't spend much with my classmates outside the school. Even though I started to study in a co-ed school doesn't mean that I'm starting to hate the world I'm in. I actually began to feel sad because I barely go to mall after school with my classmates or be with them on weekends, especially Sundays. Much more in tears when there's only one TV in the house. When I never wanted to miss an episode of an anime program, I pleaded pa to let me watch. Despite that he's the Padre de Familla, he has the authority of what he should do, what we should follow, the proper this, the proper that, and such thing in the Bible like "Honor Thy Father and Thy Mother" made me lose my power of speech. I cried. This happened during one of my high school years.
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