My Worst Memories From Childhood - Shreya Sachdev
Hi everyone! I hope you're all having a nice day. For today's blog post, I thought I would talk about my worst memories from childhood, and the moments that made my childhood not so enjoyable. To be completely honest, it was difficult for me to think of such memories because I had a very happy childhood and I mostly only have memories that involve me smiling and laughing with my family and friends. I thought I would write about this because I wanted to share more stories of my life and my past since I really love talking about them and think that it enables my visitors to get to know me better, but also because childhood is something that everyone remembers as a positive time and it got me thinking as to whether or not I can remember anything bad about it. If any of you are wondering, I spent most of my childhood in Paris and Geneva. Before we get started, I just want to clarify that I am now living in Toronto, Ontario, and I'm so excited. I landed yesterday in the morning and I already got to see the University of Toronto (where I'll be studying) and other iconic places like Yonge Dundas Square. Everyone I've spoken to so far has been really nice and helpful, and everywhere I look there are people from all over the world, which is really nice since I come from Geneva, which is a very international city. I'll be talking about my Toronto experience very soon, probably by the end of this week since by that time I would've experienced most of it and seen all the destinations I would have wanted so I'll be able to properly talk about them and give you a full overview of my week, so make sure you stay tuned for that! Make sure to tell me what your worst childhood memories are, and without further ado let's get started!
Getting Sent Out: So, my first awful memory from childhood is actually getting sent out of the classroom by my favorite teacher. You know, it's one thing to get sent out of the classroom, but it's another thing when you're sent out of the classroom by your favorite teacher. Anyways, I think I was around seven years old when this happened and it was just one of those days when I was really hyper and really loud, so I was making lots of trouble and making a lot of noise with my classmates in my French class. At one point, my teacher had enough and screamed "Vous allez vous asseoir à l'arrière de la classe!" which basically means "go sit at the back of the class" for those of you who don't speak any French. I remember feeling so shocked, because I had never been told to go sit somewhere else or had ever been yelled at. Moreover, this was my favorite teacher so I genuinely felt upset. I remember walking over to the back of the classroom and sitting under a chair, and at first I tried to laugh it off and act like I thought it was funny that I got sent back because I wanted to seem cool in front of my classmates, but deep down I was still in so much shock and wanted to cry.
An Older Man Cutting Me: This happened when I was around eleven years old, and what happened was that I was getting ready for back to school and I wanted to get some new clothes, so my family and I went to a popular mall in Geneva and we were in the store C&A (popular for clothes and other accessories in Geneva) and there was a huge sale so I was able to get quite a few clothes. My parents told me to be a "big girl" and stand in the line alone and so I did, but there was an older man behind me who decided to take advantage of the fact that there was an eleven year old girl standing in front of him, and he cut right in front of me. Then, my parents kind of looked over and saw that there was this older man in front of me who had previously been behind me and got confused, so my dad walked over and confronted the man by telling him that he was behind me and that I was in front of him, and I don't exactly remember what the older man said but he made up some excuse or lied and told my father that I, myself, had told him that he could cut in front of me when that definitely wasn't the case, and he ended up not moving and getting to the counter before me. Understandably, that is a bad memory I have from childhood because it made me realize that not everyone you meet in life will be nice, and that some people are just straight up assholes.
My Mom Being Questioned: This one is honestly just really funny, and maybe even one of my youngest memories, and that's my mom being questioned at the grocery store. When I was around six years old, I was living in Paris and I remember that my mom, my brother, and I were at the supermarket and we were shopping for food and other things, and when we paid for everything we got we started exiting the supermarket when all of a sudden these two large police officers came over to my mom and started accusing her of picking something up and not putting it back in the original spot. I think this was really confusing to us because we didn't understand why picking something up and not putting it back in the original place was such a big deal since we thought the people working at the store would do it, but anyways these two police officers made my mother walk back over to the lipstick she left near the fruit section and put it back to where the makeup section is. It wasn't as if she was in serious trouble but because I was so young and I saw these police officers with my mom, I thought she was going to go to jail or something and I remember being so worried.
Disaster Haircut: This happened to me when I was around twelve years old, and I don't know if I would consider it to be a "childhood" memory just because by this point I had already entered middle school and for me childhood is everything that's before middle school, but I thought I'd mention it anyway. Up till I was sixteen years old, I was extremely afraid of getting my hair cut. I don't know why, but I think it's just because I've always had long hair and I was afraid that if I got my hair cut really short then I would end up looking like a boy. That's why whenever I went to get my haircut, I was always really nervous and wanted to make sure that the person cutting my hair knew what he or she was doing. On top of that, whenever I got my haircut it was just to get the split ends cut off so usually the hairdresser would only cut around 2cm of my hair. This one particular day, however, I went to get my haircut and instead of saying "2cm" I kind of just indicated how much of my hair I wanted her to cut off by using my hands. I guess I hadn't properly looked at where I was pointing, because the hair dresser ended up cutting a lot more than I had wanted her to. During the middle of the haircut, I noticed how much she had cut and I was like "Oh no, it's too short" and everyone around me was worried that I was going to start crying or something. In the end, I got over it and realized that my hair hadn't actually been cut that short and that it looked quite nice. At that time, however, I thought it was the end of the world.