Throwback Column: The Corner of the Sofa

September 17, 2007 (English journal)

Sometimes when I look back, I realize how little I’ve changed in some aspects.

It often went like this: it was summertime and of course that meant that Tasha was always at our house or we were at hers. Being young and having nothing better to do, we spent our days either making up games or making up performances. We were rehearsing for our Mothers’ Day presentation when the typical thing happened. After running through the play, in which I portrayed a bad little girl who put gum in people’s hair, we moved on to the dance. Now, we thought that we were pretty skilled dancers and singers. We’d don’t countless performances for our parents and even one for our neighbors – we pass out fliers and everything. Somehow, in the middle of learning the choreography, the topic of interest turned to me.

“Jasmine, you’re so dumb.” (Untrue. I knew I was smart.)
“You’re just a little kid.” (Of course. I knew this.)

Still, I let these comments get to me.

Attention to practicing kind of drifted away from all of us and so we sat to watch TV. I sat quietly in the corner, hiding my face, trying to be invisible.

“Stop trying to make us feel bad.”
“Gosh, way to go.”

It was as if I would never win.


This trait has carried into my teenage years. I voice my opinion and people can tell when I’m unhappy, but I still feel like it’s those who love me that sometimes hurt me the most, and they’re the hardest people to stand up to.

Now I don’t have a corner of the sofa to hide in… The corner of the car maybe.
My personal corner.
The corner of the conversation.

A mental corner.