My Story Of My Childhood Essay

1295 WordsNov 17, 20166 Pages
When you think of someone who is a product of their environment, you may think of someone who steals because they may have grown up in poverty, or someone who abuses women because that 's what they grew up watching happen in their own home, or maybe even someone who was raised in a very strict home may have grown up to be a very straight laced individual. My story is a little different. My story goes deeper than how I act on the outside, my story is about the inner workings of my mind and how growing up the way I did has directly affected me as an adult person today. My childhood wasn 't the perfect childhood that everyone dreams of having. My childhood was a broken family, neglect, abuse, and disappointments. My parents divorced when I was two years old, but I really don 't remember anything until I was four years old. My mother had full custody of me, my father would come get me every other weekend so I didn 't get to see him much. The relationship between my mother and I at that time was not what a normal mother and daughter relationship was. I can remember most nights after supper, she would start getting ready to go out, already a little tipsy from the few beers she 's had throughout the day. I would cry and beg her not to leave me, I would plead for her to stay home with me because I didn 't want to go to sleep on the babysitters couch. No matter how much a begged and cried, I still went to the babysitter and I wouldn 't see my mother again until she picked me up in

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