When I was little I had two stuffed clowns which I took everywhere with me. The first one I got was “Coco”. I carried Coco by his red hair and he eventually became bald. Then I got “Noddy”, Coco’s companion.

The clowns remind me of a time in my life when I was happy and most myself. A time before I started school and was bullied for twelve years. They were a fond part of my childhood, and I wanted to keep them as long as I lived.

Today I was looking for my clowns. I searched the entire house, under the house and in the garage but I couldn’t find them anywhere. I couldn’t find my elephant a good friend gave me either. I suspect my mum has thrown them all out. When I asked her, she said she can’t remember. She said she threw out some stuff as she was sick of all the clutter in the house, and thought that perhaps she threw out one of the clowns (the one without hair).  I was horrified that she would even consider splitting them up! She got angry the more I asked and looked. She told me I should just go to the op shop and get another toy, as if they could be replaced.

My mother and me are very different people. She doesn’t get attached to things like I do and she gets frustrated by my messiness. I don’t know if she even gets sentience.

I am hurt that my mother doesn’t respect the boundaries between what is her’s and what is mine. She doesn’t let me be my own person and make my own decisions such as which of my toys to keep and not keep. They are my toys, they do not belong to her. I have grown to have no confidence in myself and my own decisions.

My toys are lost, just like the rest of my childhood. I feel great sorrow tonight.