Hi folks, I have a question.
When I was a kid, I didn't get a whole lot of positives from my folks. A lot of times, my Nmother would promise me some childish treasure and then give it to my sibling instead, in front of others.
I learned to hang on to anything I did get and watch over it like a hawk. So, I tend to keep my things in good shape and keep them for a long time. This in itself is not bad.
I do notice, though, that I am very prone to sentimental attachments to *stuff*. Not everything, but some pretty weird things. And some things that are not weird at all.
Thoughts (or similar confessions) much welcomed.
Your story reminded me of when I was small and I went through a phase of being obsessive about certain items. It was around the time I lost my grandad - 11 or 12 or so, as far as I remember. I started taking my own pillowcases on holiday with me, to change the pillowcase for a familiar one. And at school (Year 7) I made a toy, a stuffed owl, and I started to carry that everywhere as well. I loved that owl. I don't remember anyone commenting on either of these, or anything else. No teasing or anything, but I can feel now that it was not liked.
We went on holiday and I carried the owl everywhere I went. Then one afternoon I was with my mum and older brother and I left the owl on the counter of an icecream kiosk, and when I remembered just as we were setting off to drive home a short time later my parents refused to take me back to get it, and dad got very angry with me for being upset. I dare say they thought I would have to detach from it one day, so that was as good a time as any. I was almost hysterical, but when dad got angry and shouted I had to force myself not to cry out loud, and I had to force it all inside. Horrible. My mum promised that my aunt would get the toy back, because she was visiting there the next week. In fact it was two weeks later, and I was told that the person at the kiosk kept the toy for a week, then threw it in the bin. They didn't even think to tell me she had given it to the children's hospital. Anything except in a rubbish tip.
I can't imagine doing this to my daughter. I am like you, if she loses anything special, we search and search until we find it, however long it takes. Value is not counted in money, imo. My daughter has deep attachments to many of her toys, and many other possessions. I think this is part of growing up. Love is love, whatever it is for. We give her toys voices and personalities, and play with them a lot. They have a life of their own.
I am the opposite, though. I don't feel as if I own anything very much. It all feels very temporary, or as if I am looking after it for someone else. I rationalise this and take comfort in the fact that the Native Americans have a similar attitude to the world, and that it is not a bad way to regard things; we become stewards rather than owners. But it makes it difficult to identify what is mine. I am not sure anything much is. My daughter. My house. My car. The first is clearly important. The rest is just stuff.
Maybe I learned not to get too close, even to toys. I never attached to another one after the owl. They don't reach where I am any more.
