I have wondered for a long time about whatever happened to my games, toys, and the bicycle from my childhood. I remember my favorite blue case that held all the beautiful outfits for my dolls, including the shoes that wouldn't stay on my beautiful Barbie dolls.
Is it silly for me to wonder what happened to my childhood treasures?
When I ran away from home at fourteen, those treasures were left behind. At fifteen, I was allowed access to some of my possessions: clothes, a cassette player, and numerous cassettes and eight-tracks. The games, toys, and bike no longer belonged to me. My books...my diary...no longer belonged to me. I left home...I didn't measure up to the standards set for me by my step-mother. My life didn't even measure up to my imagined lifestyle of my favorite Barbie and Ken dolls.
I remember reading an article denouncing the Barbie doll and her measurements as being anatomically impossible. For...
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