1. Parents lying to me. When they told me a thunderstorm was a party in the sky and the lightning was the pounding of drums, I actually believed them. About grade 1 when were studying a little bit about weather, when the teacher asked what a thunderstorm was, I answered, "It's a party in the sky." Everyone laughed at me - I remember running home crying, outraged that my parents lied. I later told my Sunday school teacher that, and he simply said, "Parents can be silly nowadays."
2. Public embarrassment, and everyone makes me uncomfortable. While eating lunch at a food court, I accidentally spilled a cup of soda on the ground. Instead of helping or even looking innocent, everyone just stared at me, smiling. SMILING! Nowadays I would've smacked the ugly smiles off their space. That's like smiling at a woman being mugged in front of your face. Ugly bastards...
3. When your parents gotta go, you gotta go too. You remember the time when you were with a parent who was the opposite sex of you, and at the time you were too little to be left alone in the public, so they took you into the bathroom with them? Well, my mom had to drag me into the ladies washroom several times, and thankfully most of the time the people there were used to this. I don't raise eyebrows when a little girl has to follow her dad into the male facilities. It's actually not that bad - you get to see a little of what you normally can't see (unless you are a janitor). But one time a young girl, maybe six or seven years old, probably eight, saw me in the ladies room with my mom dragging me along, and instead of passing along like I expected her too she screamed. As a crowd rushed in to see what was going on, she practically flew out, screaming "OH MY GOD THERE'S A BOY IN THE GIRLS WASHROOM! OH MY GOD!!!!!!". I broke down crying, I felt so shameful, so embarrassed. Thankfully I'll never have to wander into the bathroom of the opposite sex (And if I were a janitor, I'll just wear a wig).
4. Watching TV with my mom. Yet another parental related one. When I was younger, I used to sit on the couch after dinner watching TV with my mother. Normally that wouldn't sound so bad, but what was really nasty are the channels my mom loved to watch. She enjoyed watching Asian drama, you know, where the TV series are in a repetitive flow where it is happy, then sad, then happy, then sad, then happy, then sad, and then someone dies, and repeats until the management runs out of money and ends the series with some sappy ending. Add some running into the apartment crying, door slamming, slapping, crouching by the hospital bed with an ill family member on it, screaming, yelling, nagging, reckless driving, resisting arrest, running into a burning building, and beating the living daylights out of your most hated enemy on the street and you have a complete TV series to air. Ironically (or maybe not so ironically as it does make sense) my mom learned from these shows, and the peacefulness of the home was always shattered by her yelling, nagging, and slapping. She often used foul language on me, sometimes tied my hands together, constantly yells at me no matter what I do, nags me, and in extreme cases, slaps me. For the first few years of school I was a social outcast, as my mother's foul personality carried into dayschool. I was miserable, sad, crying, my social marks plummeted. I only had one or two friends during that time. That is, until one time, maybe about 8 or 9 years old, I, for whatever reason, decided to disobey my parents and get on the computer without permission. You always needed permission to do one single freaking thing, and me doing this I consider a big step in my life. Suddenly I felt free. I was amazed that, even though, according to my parents, I was doing something wrong, the computer didn't care. And neither did the Internet. It offered me a chance to rebuild my life, and I took it. I find myself more outgoing and playful than I was five years ago. Looking back, I decided that my mother was guilty for this childhood isolation, so I distanced myself from her.