|The week we met.|
So, when Joey and I met, I’d naturally assumed her folks’d wanted her to succeed in life like mine did and pushed me. I know I was a crip snob, but I don’t think I was a snob for thinking all crips’ parental units were the same. Naive or ignorant, yes.
I quickly learned, even though there’s only a couple years difference between us, we were pretty different. Things I thought she should know or understand, she knew the concepts, but not how to put them into practice. It baffled me.
I learned where my folks pushed me in school, in life, what have you, Joey’s folks didn’t. Where my folks worried for me when I got out on my own, they didn’t stop me, Joey’s didn’t think she was ever going to leave the house. Like me, she was the second to leave. Mine were proud, hers not so much.
I was really hard on her assuming she knew what I knew. It wasn’t until we really started talking and she moved in with me, I saw and learned how different we were raised. On the same note, she taught me some things she taught herself. That’s the way it’s been for the last 18.5 years.
Moral of the story: We all grow at different rates, we were all brought up differently. Take somebody under your wing. Ask questions yourself, observe.
Be good to each other.
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