Monkey Girl: Birthday Reflections (Part 1 of 3)

Monkey Girl: Birthday Reflections (Part 1 of 3)

Thirty years ago tomorrow I was born to a 41-year-old nurse (Mom) and a 35-year-old recreational therapist (Dad) in a Los Angeles suburb. After arriving, my parents determined that my skinny legs, dark skin, and black hair made look like an Iranian bird. A few weeks later, they graduated me from Middle Eastern poultry to Monkey Girl. I’ve yet to be promoted.

In the 30 years since Monkey Girl’s debut, I’ve been blessed to have been loved and nurtured by my precious mother, father, brother, sister-in-law, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, niece, nephew, second mothers, ministers, church folk, friends, friends’ parents, teachers, work colleagues, Truffy the Cat, and (most recently) my husband.

Each of these people (and one feline) has helped form me into who I am today. Thank you.

Circa 1996: in my earlier days, I could brag that I was a gymnast and cheerleader. I can’t wear those labels (or leotards) anymore.

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