Can it All Be the Doll's Fault?

After years of self exploration, I finally know why I'm a mess. Actually, I am pretty normal, but I have always considered myself to be very unique. In grade school, I felt as if I didn't fit in. I saw the world differently, cared about the homeless, and was a dreamer. I loved my piano and singing. My free time was spent at the piano or at choir practice. Piano started at age five, choir at 11. Later I added clarinet and drama. I made straight A's. But I never had a lot of friends. I had a few and they were friends I keep in touch with till today. I played alone a lot as my siblings were older. My sister was 13 years older than me and my brother was 7 years older. As I was the baby on both sides of the family, my cousins were my brother and sisters age. I had no cousins to play with. The neighborhood was all elderly people, so there were no children to play with. I grew up with adults who loved me, never put me down and talked constantly to me as if I was an adult. I was not ready for the real world of school where children were cruel and mean. Until high school I just didn't fit in. Then the other day I figured out why.

My sister has always wanted to know why I was allowed to play with her Poor Pitiful Pearl Doll. I told her Mom got me my own, it wasn't hers. She begged to differ that I never had a Poor Pitiful Pearl. I was showing my daughter pictures of my old dolls on the internet and Poor Pitiful Pearl wasn't the doll I played with. It was totally different. I goggled "Doll with tear and sack cloth dress." It came up that her name is Little Miss No Name.