"All of my past, I tried to erase it.
But now I see, would I even change it?"
....

I think everything started when I was five years old and my parents got divorced. Even before that they never really behaved like my parents. They were barely around. They had a lot of money so I lived comfortably but that really didn't matter because they never really cared about me. They didn't care about my hobbies, my feelings, my stories of kids from kindergarten, the new picture book I just finished…they just weren't there.

And I was an only child so most of the time, I felt really lonely. No one in school wanted to be friends with me. I was too shy and and so I barely spoke. They all thought I was weird. The teachers always thought there was something wrong with me. On the rare occasions that they were able to see my parents, they'll try to tell them about me. My parents would nod and smile but they wouldn't say anything to me. On the drive home they'll tell me, “Ashley, try to be me more outspoken.” and that was it.

It wasn't my fault. I tried but it wasn't easy. I'll want to tell them this but I was too shy and scared. They might yell if I try to tell them why I can't do something, just like they always do. They didn't understand. No one understood me. I didn't hate my parents, but…I didn't love them either. They were just my parents.

My aunt Dana and uncle Greg took me in two weeks after the divorce. My parents were barely at home and whenever they were they'll have these terrible fights that'll make me cry at night. My aunt and uncle had to take me in when they noticed what was going on and may parents didn't even bother that much or try to argue with them. Before I left home in tears, they gave me a hug and it felt so foreign. The last time they ever held me like that was probably when I was a baby.

A month after I moved in to my uncle and aunt's home, it was decided that I'd be homeschooled. I wasn't just getting along with kids my age. I was an angry kid. I was always getting into fights. At first when they took me to see a therapist, they were told that what would help and heal me was if I kept putting myself out there. But after I got a scar in a later fight and sent one boy from third grade to a hospital, it was decided the best thing was just to keep me homeschooled.

Since I was at home most of the time with no one to talk to, I got bored. That was until one day I walked into a music room I never knew existed in the big house. In a month, I got my uncle to teach me to play every instrument I could get my hands on. There was just something about it that drew me in and the enthusiasm I had for it since that first day has anything but diminished. I loved music. When I was thirteen and got a phone, I realised I also loved to dance. I wanted to move like the people I see on YouTube. Maybe it was because dancing was connected to music but I don't know.

I begged my aunt and uncle and they agreed to take me for dancing classes. I was good at it. And it took my mind off things. It loosened up that tight knot of anger that was somewhere in the deep recesses of my heart.

My aunt and uncle were nice and I loved them, more than my real parents. But they weren't also there for me most of the time. They had lots of work to do. So I grew up without knowing how being loved felt. And I got used to it. I accepted it. I became numb and hollow inside. Only learning about these things called feelings through songs.

I loved music. I feared it was my life. It meant so much to me and made me feel this sense of calm and peace that no one could ever do. And I always believed it would be that way.

♬♬♬
Family line - Conan Gray