I was my father's first son. I mean that jokingly but also quite literally. He didn't have a boy (yet), so I was the filler-child. The practice run. And I loved it. I was, and am still to this day, a massive tomboy because of that. While the other girls played with Barbies and dolls, I played with dirt and bugs. They got dressed up and did dance while I was dressing down, running wild and naked, seeing how many lizards I could hide from my mom. I ate spiders, I raised baby birds, I was the one who popped the hood so I was always a late bloomer feminine-wise. Little did my parents know, I was also born deaf. They finally realized that the language I was "making up" was what I could actually hear. 10% in the left ear was all I had. After 8 or 9 corrective surgeries.. boom! sound appeared. Everything, even to this day, was like that movie extremely loud and incredibly close, causing me to grow up quite anxious. When life is amplified, how could you not? My hearing is fine (I mean I don't have a different reference besides my own), however, what they couldn't fix was my internal voice range. Apparently I'm quite soft spoken, yet it always sounds to me like I'm screaming. I'm debating carrying around a microphone. Anyway, back to what's important.
