By Mary Jaksch
What is your first memory? I don’t mean what your parents told you, but a don’t-understand-the-words memory. It is said that our first memory has the power to shape our lives.
What can YOU remember?
My first memory was one of white-hot rage. I was in a kind of harness and on a leash. I was struggling furiously.
Later, as a teenager, I asked my mother about this memory because I couldn’t make sense of it.
She said, “You were two years old at the time, and we were moving from England to Germany. I was so nervous of losing you on the crowded ferry, that I had you in a child’s harness and on a lead. However, when we got on to the boat, you threw such a tantrum that people started to gather in a circle around us.
One woman said, ‘Oh, the poor little girl! Do take that aweful thing off her.’ I was at my wits end because I just couldn’t calm you down. Finally, I undid the harness. You immediately disappeared into the crowd.”
“You mean, I ran away?”
“Yes. Your father and I looked for you everywhere. In the end I was beside myself. I had visions of you falling overboard. After two hours, the Captain made an announcement and everyone on the boat started to search for you.”
“Where was I?”
“When we finally found you, you were happily exploring the crew quarters. You told me with a huge grin that you’d had a look at all parts of the ‘big boatie’.”
So that’s my first memory. I still don’t respond well to people trying to control me. It doesn’t seem to work that well… and I love adventure!
So, you could say that this first memory did shape my life.
What is your first memory? And how has it shaped your life?
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Or was it that your first memory just a reflection of your personality? And that your personality (love of adventure, etc.) shaped your life?
I was standing in my crib in the bedroom upstairs. There was lots of noise downstairs–people’s voices. This was not usual. Then someone came into the room and hugged me, probably made me lie down.
I was three when my father died suddenly. So that must have been the night he died or one of the nights thereafter.
Hi Mary,
My first memory is standing in the front seat between my mom and dad at a church festival. I can even remember the sun suit I was wearing. I felt like the center of their attention. It didn’t last long as the sixth child. Four more siblings were born after me.
I still feel loved but don’t need to be the center of attention anymore. Amen to that.
You’re so creative with your content!
When I was 10 years old my father caught me smoking a cigarette. As punishment he made me smoke a whole pack. I have been hooked on cigarettes ever since.
– Contrarian
.-= Contrarian´s last blog ..The Power of Accepting Responsibility =-.
What a fun topic! I have so many memories around age 2-3 that I don’t know which is first. I don’t know the exact age, either, only that they were all before age 3 because of where I lived.
-minute red and orange spiders on the swing set. I was fascinated. They were the size of pin points. Whenever I see them as an adult–not often–I feel very find of them.
-the texture of a red and white dress–some kind of thick cotton with a coarse weave.
-feeding many dogs in the kennel warm gravy, heated over a stove in there, ladled over kibble on a cold winter day
-trying to get my double-bladed ice skates on while everyone else was down at the pond, down the hill
-walking on a hot road in the summer and popping tar bubbles with my toes
-strange pieces of a cut out hand-carved wooden decorative thing that separated the kitchen and the dining room
-a bat flying down from the attic and tangling in my hair while eating ice cream with my mom and sister
-the world map on the wall in the kitchen
-wiping the table after dinner and my sister yelling at me that I was getting crumbs on the floor, and that’s not how you do it
-flowers in the fields by the roadside
And sure, they’re all a part of who I am now. I love spiders, but I don’t like any in my hair (bats are OK but I really can’t stand ticks on my head or bugs or whatever in my hair). Textures and fabrics–yup. Love dogs and spend lots of time caring for them. Ice skating or inline skating has been a huge part of my life (also take care to wait for people to get ready so they’re not left behind, and don’t have much respect for those who won’t do the same). I adore maps (and travel to those places). To heck with cleaning the kitchen lol (and bossy sister while we’re at it). Popping tar bubbles–curiosity and experimenting is a big thing for me. Walks and flowers along the road–sure!
.-= Leah McClellan´s last blog ..Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But Words Can Hurt Much Worse =-.
So very, very true Mary! My first memory was running to say goodbye to my Dad as he left for work – I was about 2. After that I adored him all my life. Memory can trick us regarding dates, times, exactly what happened when, etc. but it always speaks directly to the heart.
.-= John Sherry´s last blog ..How Do You Use Words =-.
I agree, that too much we let our past; define our now. If only we could see more clearly that kind of thinking cheats us out of a really great now. If only we could learn to create every moment we live new, that is how it should be. We worry so much about what happened in our past, or we worry about how our future will be. We don’t pay much attention to how we are right now. Now, is only as great as we make it.
Well, I have mostly “bad” memories from when I was a little girl, in spite of the fact that my parents try to convince me that mine was a beautiful childhood… Earliest memories:
- Mom leaving for work, and me running out after her, catching up with her all the way to the bus stop, only in my socks. – I am still clingy, scared that I’ll lose the people I love… But this is common, may not be related to this particular memory.
- me crying and not wanting to go to the kindergarten – I hated the kindergarten. I still hate to be forced to communicate with people – at work, or anywhere. I love-love-love being with people, but only in a voluntary, non-formal setting
- Mom forcing me, over and over, to get a boy’s haircut. Me crying, running… All my youth I felt I lacked femininity, finesse. It was never true, but the feeling pervaded my self-image for a decade.
Falling into a ditch with a huge spider web and 8-legged resident to boot. My mom says it never happened, but it’s so darn vivid!
This is great awareness to have, so much so that if the memory has a negative impact, it’s worth doing some energy work on it. My earliest memory is sitting in front of a TV with a hot dog (not in a bun) in one hand and a banana in the other, stuffing my little face while my parents scream in an argument around me. Hmm … any wonder that compulsive eating has been an ongoing issue? A couple months ago, I had an EFT session on this, and it has had a profound impact. I’ve had other experiences of “reprogramming” the cellular memories with energy work. So being conscious of how early memories impact us is huge for future growth!
And an interesting aside, my husband, who lost his lifetime memories 4 1/2 years ago after a head injury (he’s 50 years old now), now just has 4 1/2 years of memories, and I have noticed that certain of his ways of being that were based on his childhood memories of being in a foster home (he was taken from his mother for extreme neglect) have changed. He’s a more confident, empowered person now, and I think it’s because he got a clean slate and has been able to more consciously shape his memories. I posted an interview with him on my site about this yesterday–it’s pretty fascinating talking to someone who can’t go back way into the past like the rest of us can.
What a great post Mary. It opens up a lot of doors for reflection and memory. I also love the early evidence of an unconquerable spirit!
I was 2, at a seaside hotel in the West country with my parents. There was a circular driveway at the back. I got the idea of running — very very slowly — round and round this circular driveway. Round and round I went. Very slow, but very sure. Nothing could stop me. Persistence was finding an early outlet I think. A hug.
What a smashing story going back to the roots of self-determination!
My first memory is of playing house on the front porch, sweeping with my tiny broom, feeding my baby doll, and wanting to grow up and be a mommy with a baby in my tummy like my mommy. And wondering how that baby got there. I knew it grew from a seed from my daddy, and wondered where he got the seeds to spit into her when they kissed. Nobody told me that’s how it happened, but how else could it be? These things mattered a lot to my busy two-year-old mind.
I don’t think my first memory has shaped my life. Strangely though, my first memory came back to me when I was in the midst of suffering the loss of a family member. Severe stress seems to do that. After my grandmother died my grandfather told me all kinds of stories that he’d never told me before, in all his years of story-telling around the family table. Memory is a strange thing.
This is a really fascinating question. Your first memory seems to be very true to your personality. My first memory connects with fear. There is so much that shapes us far before our first memory. I too wonder as someone said above as to whether our personality is affecting our memory or vice versa. A very interesting exploration.
Can’t remember my first memory, but I can remember my best memories, and it is those memories that steer and guide me throughout life – always choosing to think good thoughts.
It was my first day in the world and I was starving. I was looking desperatly at my mom’s shirt and then at her eyes. I could smell what I needed and it was so close, but I couldn’t reach it and I couldn’t communicate my needs.
I was frustrated, furious, and I thought that life was very unfair. Then the nurse brought my mother a bottle for me. I did not want it and refused. I remember that I was feeling weaker and my mother began to cry. She pleaded with me to take the bottle. I thought she was a nice lady, so I’d try.
I was physically ill from it. I thought it was a poor substitute for mother’s milk and that this life was going to be challenging. I have had a weak stomach ever since.
When I asked my mother if she breast fed me she said no, that it was supposedly healthier to bottle feed. Strange, huh?
I just wanted to add that I breastfed my son, now 5 years old. I think that if we take our own struggles in life and channel them to help others that it is a tremendous healing process that eventually makes you a stronger and more understanding person (once you’ve turned it around). =)
I don’t know if this is my first memory but it is certainly very early perhaps 2 or 3 years old.
I am hiding behind my mum’s coat in the bread shop as the assistant a very hefty lady leans over the counter and booms “Isn’t he shy!” I don’t know if I was before but I certainly was afterwards.
If I had a buck for each time I’ve re-visited my earliest memory I’d buy us all lunch. It involves my first spanking, an event which set indelible focus on the child playing quietly beside me in a sandbox… a little girl, no doubt struggling with her own bewilderment. I threw sand at her.
I was a two-year old living at Dr. Barnardo’s Home For Orphaned Children in the coastal town of Broadstairs in Kent. My erstwhile playmate could have done nothing to deserve such abuse, and our care-nurse vigorously delivered a purposeful lesson to that effect on my backside. Perhaps my spite grew from a bitter and misguided assumption that all females must be innately cruel, like my absent mother.
My very first memory and I wonder if any one at all has had one like this I was asleep I guess and a great big light hitting me in the face a dream I suppose since I was in bed. I remember waking up screaming, screaming someones name I had no idea who it was and to take it it was pitch black since it was at night I was scared I had no idea where I was at. Turns out I was screaming mommy, and my mother came running upstairs and comforted me I had no idea who the women was I was just happy she was there. I can also remember my sister trying to teach to me my abc’s and I had no idea what they were and my mom getting upset with me because I knew them 2 weeks ago but didnt after that first memory. That memory has haunted me ever since I have searched many hours and nights looking for someone anyone who has had something similar to what I have experienced Or even what it all means, I will never forget it as long as I live. I believe I had just turned 3 at the time a white flash then BOOM screaming someones name no idea who’s.