Everyone has great stories; stories that are funny, sad and beautiful all at the same time. My story is probably the most difficult I have ever written in my life. Nobody can ever tell my story other than myself. Reminiscing about my childhood and also going through family photo albums has helped me write my story I’m about to tell. Need I mention, I also had my parents think back to my first couple years in life to find out what kind of a baby I was. All of these thoughts got me to ask myself, “What is my story?” Briefly I can say, my family of origin, my culture, my gender, my older brother, my friends, and also my health has helped me shape into a mature woman. I definitely did not have the “perfect” childhood but, all the experiences I went through have made me become who I am today.  During infancy, my mother did mention I had a hard time developing the difference between trust vs. mistrust. Ever since I was born, I was not only raised by my mother but, also with a caregiver. Being born to career minded parents was a tough toll on me and also on my older brother. We were always with multiple caregivers which was confusing to us because we didn’t recognize at first who our real mother was. Especially to me because I was just a baby and I were still trying to understand my surroundings. From what I was told, I never really interacted well with any of my caregivers. I was scared almost all the time and was crying almost every minute. I was uncomfortable and was unfamiliar with all the faces that were introduced because it wasn’t my mothers. This was very bad for my development because I started to not eat a lot and whenever I did eat I was throwing it up right after. My parents concern about my health was very important to them so fortunately they found a solution. For some reason, the only person that gave me comfort and made sure I was okay when my parents weren’t around was my older brother. His face and voice was the only one I was familiar with which helped me feel more comfortable. Whenever a caregiver had a hard time with feeding me; they had to call upon my brother to make sure it happened. Knowing that I trusted him at such a young age just shows me how early interactions can make a big difference later on.  My brother and I might be just 4 years apart but, I never knew how much of his presence meant so much to me that young. As I started my years as a toddler, the one person that took the blame for my troublesome actions was my older brother. If I was ever caught doing something bad, he took the blame. I wish my brother never did this because I started to think maybe everything I was doing was his fault. I started blaming him and I never learned my lesson; what I thought was wrong wasn’t my problem anymore. Eventually my caregiver and my parents figured out the problem and made sure no errors were made again. During this time I also figured out the whole meaning of potty training. I was developing the feeling of shame and didn’t want to grow up fast because of the change from diapers to underwear. There were definitely other changes like the difference between female and male toys and also understanding the difference between both genders. I remember from couple pictures of me when I was 3, I never wanted to stop playing with my brother’s toys because we always shared most of our toys so young but, eventually he was getting older and realizing his independence and I always wanted to do the same. Eventually I started understanding that cars and trains were played by boys and dolls and dresses were played by girls. I can definitely say gender roles are still the same as it was back then.  The locomotive stage I would say