MY LIFEMAP 1 : My family

My family during my childhood was a very big, loud and most of all an average middleclass Swedish family. My mother was very kind, generous but not intellectual. My stepfather was a quiet, working and nice man. None of them were financially intellectual and spent money on things they should not have done.  My real father was absent until my teenage, except for a letter or two to my birthday and Christmas. He was in my heart a generous man because he always sent me money. But I did not know him, only in my dreams and photos I had seen. I had three sisters and one brother. None of them were my real sisters, only half-sisters. I lived with my sisters and my mother. My half-brother were absent in my life, and he lived with my father in Norway. 

My sister S. was a very creative, animal-loving, calm and nice person. She always wanted to be by herself and she never wanted to play games with me. I loved to play family-games, like Monopoly, I still do. My second sister J. was very active, friends-orientated and generous. I really adored her. My third sister, the youngest one T. was very demanding, princess-like and skinny. She always got what she wanted which annoyed me. 
My brother, when I met him at the age of 16, was an very active person. He wanted to do stuff all the time. Me, myself, loved to read, write and watch movies. I still do. 

My real, absent, father was a rich man I thought. I also knew he worked with finances. My stepfather was a truck-driver and worked very late or very early. My mother were very sick as she had fibromyalgi, a stress-related sickness, with much pain and fatigue. Those two fought very often as my mother did not had the power to change or help so much in the family, and my step-father was always tired as he never got to sleep. They also slept in the living-room as they wanted to give us, the children, a room each. It was like this from when I was seven until I was 19 and moved to study at the University. My mother later became a chef at a kindergarden. 

My grandmother was also an important person during my childhood and later on. She always supported my mother and step-father financially and pratically, but never emotionally. She was proud, energetic, and always critizied everyone. She made things happen, but she made everyone tired emotionally, especially my mother. 

What I can remember is that I read a lot. I used to read even when I ate. I still love to do that. That made my step-father always sing when he called on me: "In the fairy-tales world". I did not like that. I was also called the "hot-dog" by him and my middle-name, not my first name. My mother pushed me to do something but reading and I liked track-and-field so I stayed there for ten years (8-19 years old). I also took piano-lessons from I was eight until I was 19. Why did I stop?Because I moved and could not find anyone to help me, even though I tried. 

When I said: "I believe so!" I always heard the really annoying reply from my step-father: "Believe is something you must do only in church."

My mother took me to church when I was five years old. I still remember that day. I was really afraid of all new people around me. They were all older than I was, but they took care of me and they played and sang a song for me and I was in the center of the group. It was the choir. I continued to sing in the church until I was  19 too I believe. Then I continued for one year in the city of my University. 

My mother always said to me that I was very clever. She admired me. She always encouraged me to do things and try. But sometimes I felt that I needed someone more intellectual, even though I had somewhat emotional support from her. I never spoke to anyone about my dreams or fears, because when I did so, my mother or step.father always took it lightly. Either they did not believe me, or they punished me or they did not care enough. So I stopped talking about my thoughts and continued to read more. Perhaps all answers were in the books. I searched in every book I could for wisdom. Once I found a book with quotes and I tried to learn something from it. For a period of time I thought the Chinese or Japanese had all wisdom. The Buddhist or Taoism were two religions that I thought were nice, but I did not study them further. I studied Astrology instead and thought that there were guidance in it. Perhaps a direction or a hint for me to follow. 

How wrong was not I. 

We were not rich, even though we had a great deal of money. We always had mortgages and bills and worries about the payments. Therefore we only spent money on food and our sparetime activites. We never went abroad, even though we had a caravan and stayed camping the whole summer at a deep lake. We never bought any furnitures that I really loved. We had average furnitures, and a piano and furnitures from my grandfather that my mother inheritated. 

By the way, my grandmother is not my biological mother. My Swedish mother was an orphan when she was brought to her new home, my grandmothers home. My grandmother could not have children so she took care of many other children. She adopted three children, my mother and two, older, boys. 

I had friends, but I was not happy with them. I wanted intellectual discussions, and one of my friends, who were not very popular, corresponded to that demand of mine. I had three other friends, and I spent more time with one of them, my so called best friend. I loved to spend time with them but only sometimes because sometimes it was too much, because all they wanted to talk about was boys, spying on boys, dreaming of boys. I liked their adventures, but it was often too much for me. I was jealous of their looks too and sometimes I rather spent time with my intellectual friend, but I was also jealous of her because she played the piano better than I did and she was always better than I was in school. I did not hate it, but I did not like that she was better than I was. She was very kind and listened though. I liked that. She had a good character. I felt safe with her. My three other friends could not be together with her, sadly enough. They did not like her. They were popular and not intellectual and only  thought about clothes and looks (and boys). I did not want to talk about clothes or looks (or boys), as I did not think I was pretty and skinny (or interesting enough). I had always been very sad about my looks, even though I find many photos on me from that time quite nice and pretty. This feeling of not looking good is something I still have today. I am not satisfied with my body and looks, even though I hear that I am beautiful EVERY DAY from my husband alhamdolillah. Mashallah. 

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