Trapped In Between. Marilyn Elaine Lundberg Lundberg. Здоровье. . Читать онлайн. Литмир. LITMIR.BIZ

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In life, there are sometimes just a few people

that stop and truly help the hurting. This book

is dedicated to five such people;

my husband Rick Lundberg,

my psychologist Dr. John K. Nash PhD, LP

my friend Kathy Eiden,

my pastor, Dr. Pat Hall,

and author and speaker Joyce Meyer.

God used these five people in a compelling way, to heal me. Words can never express my gratitude to these people and many others in my life, who reached out and gave me their hand.

Chapter One – STICKS & STONES

Now is the precise time in my life for all my dark desolate secrets to be exposed. Assaults that happened behind closed doors need to come into the light and be revealed, even if it has been a half century later. Promises to never tell, need to be smashed. It is finally the perfect time.

The name given to me at birth was Marilyn, after the popular movie star Marilyn Monroe back in the 1950s. I attended William Penn Elementary school in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and when I was eleven years old I began the fifth grade. In recalling that year, I have clear, crisp and concise memories of my experiences, but only a handful of recollections from birth to age ten.

Memories of kindergarten through fourth grade were limited to school memories and just a small handful of other remembrances such as birthday parties.

The memories that make me smile, are of the two little neighbor girls that knocked on my front door the first day that I moved into the house on Oliver Avenue. They asked my mom if she had any kids, and I appeared shortly afterwards.

They were sisters, a year apart, and lived two houses down from me. They came a calling to bring me across the street into the playground of my new elementary school. Kindergarten was starting in just a few weeks and this recreation area was amazing! There were swings, teeter totters, monkey bars and horizontal bars. Surrounding all these magnificent pieces of equipment were large fields to play any sort of game you could imagine, what a magical wonderland right across the street from my new house.

My best childhood recollections came from this playground and my two new girlfriends. I would walk two houses down and get my friends, or they would pick me up and we would run to the school yard hand in hand and play for hours. I preferred being with my little friends outside rather than being in my house. I felt free and unrestrained when I was out in the airy breezes, compared to the confined feeling that crept over me when I was at home. Those four walls sometimes felt as if they were closing in around me.

I smile as I remember the three of us planning a parade. The idea was that I would sit in the wagon on a little chair, and be pulled down the sidewalk along our parade route. Since my name was Marilyn, I would pretend that I was Marilyn Monroe, and be the princess of the float. It was quite a big production and we planned this event for several days. I put curlers in my hair so I had waves like the movie stars and I did the slow wave from my perch on the wagon.

I also remember riding bikes every day and roller skating out on the pavement in front of my house. I was always very careful to not lose the key to my skates and had it pinned safely in my pocket. I enjoyed many good times with my two new friends, outside in the clean crisp air.

I recall my kindergarten teachers’ smiling face when I told her that I could write my name in cursive. That’s all that I remember in kindergarten.

Another memory was at St Olaf Lutheran Church that we attended every Sunday morning. I remember needing to snuggle next to my mom in the brown wooden church pew, but there came a time when I had to be a big girl and go to Sunday school. I was terrified and didn’t want to stay with all those strangers. I recall the teacher asking for my coat, but I said I was cold and wanted to wear it. I wasn’t really cold, I just wanted my coat to cover and protect me. Next she began removing it gently, following that was a tug-of -war; the teacher always got the coat. If only I had been stronger, I thought. Removing my coat meant that I had to stay in Sunday school with all those new kids. I was scared around people I didn’t know, I just needed my mom.

My memory slate is blank regarding first grade, second grade and third grade.

I recall in my fourth grade that we had a split class which included both fourth and fifth graders together. There were six rows of kids and the three rows closest to the door were the fifth graders.

There was a girl in the fifth grade row that sat up in front next to the teacher, and her name was Donna. She was stunning, and I often watched her. Each day at the same time she would undo her pony tail, with the singular spiral curl, plus remove the two colorful barrettes. With her fingers she would get every hair back in place and replace the rubber-band so that the ponytail was tighter and more to her liking. I loved the ritual, and would often envy this beautiful fifth grader.

I wished that I was pleasing to look at like Donna, but I was not.

This was the year that the dentist referred me to an orthodontist, who told my parents and me that I would need to wear a mouthpiece during class, and headgear at night in preparation for braces. Plus, he told us that I needed to have eight teeth removed, all due to overcrowding in my tiny little mouth. I do clearly remember my dentist telling my mom that I had the worst malocclusion that he had ever seen. I knew that he meant buck teeth, but he used the acceptable term.

I had a difficult time wearing the mouthpiece in class, because I couldn’t talk correctly with it lodged in the roof of my mouth. The device gave me a funny lisp, and so if the teacher called on me I had to quickly slip it out, to speak properly. I was pleased that someday the orthodontist would correct my crooked teeth, but he said it would take a very long time.

I may have been teased about my pearly whites prior to the fourth grade, but I don’t recall. Due to my protruding teeth, I was very self-conscious, anxious and shy around the children at school and church. I just could not get my lips wrapped around my teeth to cover and hide them from my peers. You know how malicious kids can be if there is anything different about another child. A few kids called me every name in the book, but Bucky beaver was the most frequent insult.

The name calling during recess was quite brutal. The insults felt like bullets that pierced my heart. I would try to not look at people, or I would tilt my head in a way that I wasn’t noticed, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t control the situation or escape the ridicule. I would also see others in the class get similar treatment. There was the overweight boy who was taunted and teased and the little girl that must have wet the bed, who had the nick name Stinky. I could see in their eyes how much they too were hurting, and I wished that we all could have been rescued from the name calling.

The rhyme, created in March of 1862, Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me, was crazy in my opinion. The hurtful words that were hurled at me sliced right through my soul and went deep into my heart. Those words did hurt me, they hurt me a lot.

The

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Trapped In Between. Marilyn Elaine Lundberg Lundberg

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Chapter One – STICKS & STONES