[amihow]

I grew up in an upper class neighborhood for our town. I always felt “less than” around neighbors because they seemed so perfect. In our house, there were issues. Hidden, but issues.

As years went by, we had neighborhood reunions and stories came out. Abuse. Psych problems. Divorce. Adultery
Alcoholism. Failures. All covered up by money and things. Us too of course.

I remember as a 13 year old, sitting at the bar in the country club, watching my day B.S. with other members. A metanoia, a resolve, soul changing event occurred in those minutes. How, hypocritical. How phony. How boring. How not for me.

I became a rebel, able to walk comfortably in any strata of society. I have had adventures unlike any with whom I played as a child.

Essay hit home for me personally.

[Rennes Templar]

Reminds me of the club scene from the movie Brigadoon.