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KVETCH

KVETCH - My Story [Growing Up Fearful

I’ver thought of myself as cute. Or pretty. Not attractive to boys, cool kids or popular girls. I  wasn’t quite as bad as the kids we labeled as the «Queer» kids, which when I went into a new elementary school in 2nd grade in Southfield, Michigan on Goldwin Ave. by 10 Mile Rd school in the suburbs of Detroit, pretty. Or special. I wasn’t the type of girl cute, popular boys liked. The weird boys didn’t give me any attention, either. I for attractive to boys. I wasn’t good at anything valuable to anyone. I had a good imagination and I liked to play by myself making little doll house furnishings and clothing for my troll dolls. When we moved out of Detroit, where  I was born, in the early evening of October the 5th, the second daughter to 195October I did not think I was special. Unique. Attractive, Lovable. I never imagined someone would marry me. I hated attention. I never had a real boyfriend until I was 14 and on a trip to Israel with a Jewish Youth Group. But somewhere around the Negev he just stopped being there. He was elsewhere. And not invisible, attached to a  pretty girl with normal feet. Who wasn’t hung up, like me, who packed only the shoes that hid my bunions, my funky, fu#k-ed up, unbendable toe, made my feet look smaller and gave me the look of a person with an arch. People who didn’t get duck feet. I’ver thought of myself as cute. Or pretty. Not attractive to boys, cool kids or popular girls. I  wasn’t quite as bad as the kids we labeled as the «Queer» kids, which when I went into a new elementary school in 2nd grade in Southfield, Michigan on Goldwin Ave. by 10 Mile Rd school in the suburbs of Detroit, pretty. Or special. I wasn’t the type of girl cute, popular boys liked. The weird boys didn’t give me any attention, either. I for attractive to boys. I wasn’t good at anything valuable to anyone. I had a good imagination and I liked to play by myself making little doll house furnishings and clothing for my troll dolls. When we moved out of Detroit, where  I was born, in the early evening of October the 5th, the second daughter to 195October I did not think I was special. Unique. Attractive, Lovable. I never imagined someone would marry me. I hated attention. I never had a real boyfriend until I was 14 and on a trip to Israel with a Jewish Youth Group. But somewhere around the Negev he just stopped being there. He was elsewhere. And not invisible, attached to a  pretty girl with normal feet. Who wasn’t hung up, like me, who packed only the shoes that hid my bunions, my funky, fu#k-ed up, unbendable toe, made my feet look smaller and gave me the look of a person with an arch. People who didn’t get duck feet. 

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