Something was happening within, I’m not sure exactly what it was, but I think all this anger I had built up and not really giving myself a chance to truly be ok with my situation kind of made me bitter. Not sure if that would be the correct word to describe it, but let’s just go with that. I kind of became this problem child. I was always getting yelled at or spanked by my uncle who was also living there. I would see how the grandparents would spoil my young bio-sib and I longed for the same attention and affection. Every new school year, the young one would get brand new clothes and new shoes and school supplies. I’d get a few things but not nearly half as much. I’d also get the hand me downs from the older one which always made me feel bad because the older one didn’t want me to have them so when they were given to me anyway, the older one would point out to the other kids at school that I was wearing the hand me downs. It was embarrassing and humiliating. I would get home and just lock myself in my room and cry. Sometimes grandma would wait until my shoes were literally falling apart before she’d buy me new ones because she didn’t want to waste money. I remember wearing a pair of shoes that the souls were so worn, the glue had wore off so the front of the shoe was detached that I had to wrap it with duct tape. I drew pictures on the tape to try and disguise it a little, but the kids noticed and they would laugh and make fun of me. I eventually got used to being picked on, it made me stronger or what some might call thick skinned.