becoming the one looking at me (not part of ongoing story… just a post)

            I can remember hiding behind my mother as a child, around the age of three or so and not wanting to talk to the strange adult that was trying to coax me with baby talk. My mother would make up some excuse I’m sure so that I wouldn’t seem rude, but this basic scenarioContinue reading “becoming the one looking at me (not part of ongoing story… just a post)”