For the first few months of my life, I went unnamed; Baby Girl was what was officially put on my birth certificate. When it was finally decided it didn’t matter; my father always called me “Chuck.” He was intent on raising me like a boy. It worked. In fact, I now get mail addressed to “Mr. Alex.”
The name, “Alex the girl” came about when I was in class with another Alex. Because both our names was just ‘Alex’, to differentiate us, they called him “Alex, the boy” and I became “Alex, the girl.” I didn’t expect it to last so long.
I was a complete tomboy. My first birthday present was a hammer and my favourite things to do were climb trees, build forts, stand up for picked on kids, play with trucks, collect worms for fishing and do sports. However, I wasn’t all boy. I had a complete adoration for dresses (in the style of Laura Ingalls, Anne Shirley and Pollyanna) and did everything in them. I still do.
As a child I never had an allowance and had to cultivate my own money. I had my first job at eight. I looked after 3 children who were 6, 4 & 2. Sometimes I’d start looking after them at 4pm on a Friday until noon the next day while the parents were gone. I learned how to cook, organize a group, entertain, and create a quiet moment for restless people. Came in handy when I became a grown-up.
On the side, I wrote and drew a weekly “newspaper,” and made copies at my father’s office, then went door to door in the countryside where I lived to sell them. There were few sensationalised stories; most were about the simplicity of everyday life. I suppose it was kind of like this site except offline and without digital photography. And less spelling mistakes. In the spring and summer, I’d collect wildflowers and sell those door to door. Those bouquets were a bigger money maker than the newspaper.
About age 8, I started having severe pains in my ankle and stopped being able to walk. I went from doctor to doctor for a year and they couldn’t figure out why. In desperation for relief, my mum took me to a special shoe store in the city and the old owner there fitted and made a special pair of shoes that took some of the pain away and allowed me to walk a little for first time in months. Money was such a concern for my family at this time and when he learned of our situation, he didn’t charge us for all that he did. He said seeing me walk was payment enough. Ten years later I went to thank him with some flowers and he remembered me and said he used my story to teach his workers about the reason they do what they do – to be useful and make a difference. That inspired me to always try to do the same in my work.
Just before my tenth birthday and seven doctors later, my ankle problem was solved; I was told I had a rare bone issue that .03% of the population gets. Of that .05% get one of the 3 conditions I had. Its when you’re born with an extra bone in your ankle where there should be a hole, so you have instead a bone growing through it pushing your ankle apart. The doctors thought the first surgery would be the only one needed, but I ended up having 4 more on my right and 3 on my left. My last one was when I was 19. I became an expert at running with crutches and playing football/soccer with a walking cast.
When I was a teen living in England, I used to sing all breathy-like these old swank jazz songs in a supper club. I was this little thing just belting out tunes or being all pouty. Then I’d walk off stage, sit with my friends and they’d wonder where all that came from.
I can sing almost any 50’s tune. Any. You think I’m kidding but I’m not.
Don’t ask me to do it, however, I get embarrassed from attention. If you don’t know I’m doing something, then it’s OK. As soon as someone makes a deal over it, I don’t want to do it. I’m not good with attention. I like to be part of the background which is hard to do when I love wearing colours and patterns. I understand the contradiction.
I’m an introvert who has brilliant extrovert skills. People have a hard time believing I’m shy. Especially when I was cruising the streets as a teenager with my best friend Emily every summer yelling out the window to cute boys “Hey are you fiiiiiiiiiiiiine!”
And yes we cruised to fifties music.
I never owned a car I was 35 but Emily got her first one when we were 17. I referred to it as “ours.” It was such a bad, broken down car that used to omit these poisonous gasses into the body. She couldn’t afford to fix it so we drove with the windows down during winter and wore gas masks. If that wasn’t dumb enough, we drew mouths on them and drove around in public.
That’s not the only stupid thing we did.
There are only two things I hate – waiting and cold.
I left home at 18 and randomly went to Lake Louise, Canada where I worked and lived at the Chateau Lake Louise. Spring, summer and fall were great but after a couple months of winter at -30C, I knew I had to leave because, see point above. I decided to go to New Zealand without knowing anything other than it was summer. I traded snowshoes for surfboards and it was perfect.
I’m half Danish, Half French but generally refer to myself as ‘foreign.’ I’ve lived all over the world and feel as though I don’t belong to any one country and, if you heard me speak, would totally agree. My accent is a mutt and I often think about getting voice lessons just so I’m not asked, “Where in Australia are you from?” anymore. Especially since I’ve never been to Australia.
My motto in life is “whatever decision you make, it’s the right one” so I live without regrets and always move forward. I love life and all that it has to offer. I’m just so curious about everything and hope to not only do a lot, but share a lot.
It’s why I created a bucket list of 101 things I want to do before I die and am spending my days doing what I love so I can cross each and everyone one off.