Brett Rossi : In My Skin
Mother's know best and if you ask me, I really can't wait for the day I become one because I believe men carry in their sperm something special that attaches to a woman's brain once they become impregnated that gives them the sudden knowledge of everything. If you are a woman, you likely have had disagreements with your mother. Hell, if you are a woman you likely hated your mother the majority of your teenage years only to discover you become everything she told you that you would become. Well, you can only hope you don't, but if you are close with your mother when you become an adult, you likely become everything you swore as a child you wouldn't become; just like her.
My mother conceived me at the ripe age of 17....everything was confusing from there on out.
I was supposed to be a boy up until' the day I was born. "He's here!" My grandmother tells me she screamed as I battled my way out into the bright loud world only to have tried to immediately crawl right back into my comfortable humble abode that I had called my home for the last 9 months. The problem was, the ultra sound lied to my mother for the last 6 months. The theory is, I must have had my hand down there every time I had my picture taken during the ultra sound appointments; go figure. I was taken home in a red ball cap (which I fell in love with) and my clothes for the first 9 months of my life were boy clothes. My mother used to place bonnets or giant bows on my head because she didn't want anyone to confuse the fact that even though I was setting the trend for being a "tom boy" so young, I was still a little girl and not a little boy.
Another mistake was, my eyes should have been blue. Right now, they are a forest greenish hazel mixed with some golden brown. They turn a beautiful green only when I'm upset or have been crying. Other than that, they are boring. The reason I say my eyes should have been blue is because my eyes were blue for the first few years of my life. When I say blue, I'm talking as blue as the ocean. They were my best physical characteristic at that time. At one point, my mother was upset that one eye was changing and the other was staying blue. I'm a strange creature now, but imagine what an out cast I would have been if I had two different colored eyes? The point is, my mother was worried that my eyes were changing, not that I would be a strange child. We already knew that was a given. She has a picture of me that every year on my birthday she likes to show me. The picture is the last picture she took of me before my eyes turned into this shitty color I'm stuck with now.
I would also like to touch on the fact that my real name is just as confusing as my gender was when I was born and because of this, the shortened version of my name became a nickname which eventually just became my "name". The problem is, the shortened version of my name is a boy's name. No seriously, more of a boy's name than 'Brett' is. With that being said, add on the boy clothes, my favorite red ball cap that was my #1 accessory when I was a child because I always ripped out the stupid bows off of my head that my mother insisted I wore so the world would know I was a little girl and not a boy, the world was still left very confused. Still, to this day I have to spend at least 30 minutes answering that same ole' generic question, "Oh...that's a um...'unique' name. I've never heard of it. How did your mother name you that?" Every where I go that requires I tell them my name. Its awful.
Just once, I would like to make the story more interesting. Maybe fabricate the story and say that my mother was a homeless crack whore who left me on a side walk and I was adopted by the actor who portrayed Darth Vader from Star Wars, but that takes too much effort and I would have to remember every detail of the story so I wouldn't get caught in a lie. I'm a terrible liar by the way. Anyways, when I am asked about my name it's easier to just simply laugh and say I've never heard of the name before until' I was born.
My name kind of sucks if you date me as well. Every significant other I've ever had has always refused to call me by my real (nick) name. It really bothers me to this day. They all insist on calling me by my full name. I assume its because during intercourse if he were to scream out my name, the long version of my name would seem less manly than the shortened version. Don't ask.... I'm not the one screaming out my own name during sex.
The good news is, the one thing the world has never been confused by is my personality and attitude. I get that from my mother. I have a spicy attitude and failure is really hard for me to accept, but it's given me the drive to achieve my goals and aspirations without getting distracted. Without those characteristics, I probably wouldn't have survived the last 23 years of my life. With that being said, my mom will never truly know how thankful I am for her.