I didn't have that many toys growing up probably because my parents wanted to teach me how to appreciate what I had. What I did have was a barbie doll collection and those were probably my favourite toys. How cliche though, am I right?
I think I had five dolls but only two had names. Till this day I struggle to name things. The only boy was named Ken and the only brunette with the bendy elbows was named Kita-San, because in my mind she was Asian, probably not though. She had caramel skin and long hair and was who I wanted to be and look when I was older. Idolising a doll whose backstory I was in charge of, somethings never change for the most part.
I used to spend hours brushing their hair and weaving stories in which my dolls starred in. Seriously I had a lot of fun just sitting alone on the floor barely moving them around, silently. My parents probably loved it too because if I had a doll in my hand that meant I was going to be quiet and that would prevent fights between my sister and I.
Maybe this is where my creativity and love for stories bloomed from because my sister hated playing with the dolls. To her they were boring and a waste of time.
It took me an embarrassing amount of time before I stopped playing with the dolls and started writing the stories I thought of on paper.
No comments:
Post a Comment