I know.

It totally freaked me out when the second writing¬†exercise began with “take off all your clothes.” It sounds like something a sexy alpha hero would say to the spitfire heroine, who defiantly whips off her t-shirt, ¬†terrified and exhilaratingly turned on at the same time.

For me, after a moment of panic and brief consideration of disrobing, I read on “… nah, just kidding!” Ha, ha. Funny, Ms. Probst. Very funny.

She does, however, ask that we – in this instance – I write something extremely personal to me, and to remember that it’s for my eyes only. Little did she know when she wrote this that I would be doing all her exercises on my blog.

*Name dropping pause*

Jennifer Probst now knows that I am posting all my writing exercises based on “Write Naked” on my blog. Because I told her. In person. At the #RWA17. Eeeek!!!

*Back to exercise*

Shoot. I want to make this post authentic but what can I share that is extremely personal but not a secret I must take to my grave?

No one wants to recognize the small, petty side of one’s self and I seriously never told anyone about this until a couple years ago.

I was about four or five, and my cousin, who was about a year younger than me, came to stay with my family for a bit because her mom had just passed away. We were close in age, so we did everything together. She was such a sweet, lovely child. Even a spoiled, princess like me could see that. She never cried or whined even though she must’ve been heartbroken by her loss, and she never asked for her dad or older sister. I actually don’t know why she couldn’t be with her family. At the time, she came and my parents said she was staying for a while, so I just shrugged and went with it.

At first, I made her my project and insisted on taking care of her every little need. After all, I was after all her “unni” (Korean for older sister – but used to cousins and older female friends, etc.) I would help wash her face, brush her hair, and shared all my toys with her. I even shared my little room with her. One night, she fell of the bed and began crying in the middle of the night. My parents ran into my room to find Little Cousin on the floor beside the bed. My dad lifted her off the floor, tucked her back in bed, and soothed her until her sobbing became sleepy hiccups.

The next morning, my mom was brushing Little Cousin’s hair to give us matching pigtails when the comb caught on something on Little Cousin’s head. She promptly began sniffling again. It turned out that she’d gone to bed wearing a small hair pin and a piece of the metal click-clock closure was embedded in her scalp. My mom screamed for my dad, and my dad was able to quickly get the small fragment out. I saw my mom holding back tears and my parents gave the sweet little girl the much needed and deserved love and attention.

Five year old me did not like that. (Freaking brat.)

Eventually, my uncle reclaimed his daughter and I had my room back to myself, but I felt like I had unfinished business. One night, I decided to pretend to fall off my bed and I cried like a banshee until my parents stormed into my room. I hammed it up and was properly fussed over. Satisfied, I went back to sleep.

I can’t recall why, but my parents and I were talking about our family back in Korea one day, and I suddenly remember what my devious five-year-old self had done all those years ago. Half laughing and 100% embarrassed, I told my parents that I never fell of my bed. I’d only been pretending because I was jealous of Little Cousin. They almost fell off the sofa laughing. They thought it was adorable.

But we all know if wasn’t cute. It was small. It was petty. I was so stupid. Shame on me for resenting a sweet girl who’d lost her mom.

I pray that the adult me is a little less possessive, self-centered and prone to crazy. At the very least, I strive to be a sympathetic, caring, and giving human being.