Running Away to Find Myself

Sometimes, life just gets to be too much, and some alone time seems like the best response. The farm had many places where I could go to be alone. Some places were actually hidden and others were just less-frequented by others. I loved going under a lifted ledge in the hayloft because it seemed close to everyone, yet no one would look there. There were a ton of spider webs, so sometimes that spot was even too scary for me. There was also an alternate side of the hayloft that wasn’t used much at that point in my childhood. It was very weak and couldn’t sustain a lot of weight, but I liked to test my luck to see if I would fall through it. Other times, I would hide between silos, in giant tractor tires or even in mounds of big, round straw bales. Sometimes I would make hidden forts in the straw stacked in the hayloft. There was also a spot I liked in the barn where we stored most of the food for the cows. It wasn’t really super hidden, but I could ball myself up so no one could see me - and when I was there, I could overhear conversations among the adults. When I was alone, I did a lot of thinking; sometimes it was more crying about things I couldn’t change. Mostly, I acted out every scenario I could think of to deal with a situation that was happening around me. Many of my thoughts centered around whether or not I would be missed if I just disappeared. I would try to stay hidden for as long as possible to see if it made any difference, even in the short-term. Life moved on. Every time. Like it truly didn’t matter if I were there. But that changed one day in the summer between third and fourth grade. I didn’t just hide in a simple place around the farm. I actually went out farther. I was so mad at Tracy for not wanting to play with me. She chose to play with Fred instead. Fred was the enemy. It hurt me so much that I just wanted to disappear and never play with either of them again. So I packed up some of my favorite toys, tied them to a stick like a "hobo lunch" and headed out. I ventured far out into one of our corn fields. Honestly, it wasn’t that far, but as a kid I thought it was really far away. It took a while for anyone to notice I was missing, but once they did, it was kind of pandemonium around the farm. EVERYONE started calling my name and searching for me. I even saw people go down the path next to the corn field, but they never looked into the corn. I was only a few rows into the field and was kind of laughing as I listened to all of this. I just sat there with my toys and played with them and drew with a stick in the dirt around me. It was a fun time for me. Then, I heard more voices! They had called my cousin’s whole family out to help search for me. I still didn’t come out of my hiding spot. I figured if they really wanted me, they would need to locate me and make me leave. I don’t remember who actually spotted me, but once I was found, I was taken to the house and Mom and “Dad” had a conversation with me about how scared they had been and how they had thought they had lost me. They asked me to never run away again. It felt nice to be loved wholly - even for those few moments. I even felt a little guilty because they said they had been about to call the cops to help try to locate me. However, even though my parents had said they would never want to lose me or have me run away or be out on my own, they ended up getting very upset with something Tracy and I did not much later - and actually TELLING us to run away. I think my feeble attempt at running away sparked some kind of response in them and put this idea in their head, leading to this strange command. On that day, Tracy and I were happy to be running away together. We decided we would go to our cousin Joey’s house and everything would be so much better once there. However, Mom and “Dad” said if we were going to run away, we couldn’t go together. So they actually told us to go to the end of our driveway and then to go in opposite directions. We both knew that either way would eventually lead us to Joey’s house, so we were still set to carry out our plan. After being out for only about 20 minutes, Mom drove a car to pick us up and bring us back home. She got Tracy in the car first and then turned around to come get me. When I saw it was her coming to get me and force me to come back home, I took off running. Of course, I had little-kid legs and couldn’t go far, but it felt good to rebel against my parents in that way. After that summer, I never attempted to run away again. I just went back to finding my hiding spots and spending time alone to think about my scenarios. In a way, I still do that today. I still find a way to hide away in order to seek solutions. Being alone in nature is one of my favorite ways of doing this. Maybe it stems from these times of hiding and just thinking about my life and seeking out answers. If I can work out a scenario in my head, then maybe it will be OK in real life, even if the scenario is rarely as I originally expected.

The Unwanted Ones

Being as young as we were when we moved to the farm, it took me awhile to realize our lives weren't like other kids’ lives, that they weren't how they should be for a child.

The moment I stepped foot on the farm, I began losing my identity. The fact that Tracy and I were twins made it automatically hard to tell us apart. Our new "grandpa" - a man who saw us literally every day once we moved there - NEVER learned our names. This guy always gave me a weird vibe, and I never really liked him - but he never even tried to learn our names, let alone tell us apart! Granted we had similarities for sure, but we are fraternal twins! This means we are technically no more alike than any other siblings. But because most people didn’t want to take the time to get to know us we just became “the girls.” There were so many times on the farm when we were called to do something and it was just, “Fred and girls, come here.” Of course back then it annoyed me, but I never realized just how much that made me lose my own, personal identity. I was constantly in need of having Tracy there with me because when she wasn’t I didn’t feel whole.

When our mom met our “dad” and moved to the farm, I was excited to have more family because my mom's family is pretty small. However, the large family wasn’t as exciting as I had hoped. From the day we became part of the family I felt like an outsider. It was like because we weren’t blood we were never truly accepted. We would attend family functions and events, but it always felt like I was on the outside looking in. Not to sound petty, but as kids, you notice things like gifts and personal attention. These are things that say to a kid, "Hey, you're important." And yet on birthdays and holidays, Tracy, Fred and I always got fewer gifts than our cousins. It was even worse for Tracy and me because there were two birthdays at once, and no one ever wanted to buy gifts for both of us; so we would just get less.

After living on the farm a few years and feeling really disconnected from the family, I found myself hoping something would change to make me feel more like a true member of the Ludwig family. Sometime between 7 and 8 years of age, I got my wish. Mom approached Fred, Tracy and me to see how we would feel about being officially adopted! This meant we would have the same last name as our mom and “dad” and could be a member of the larger family. We were beyond excited. We never knew our biological father, so we didn’t care if we had his last name or not. All we knew of him was that he lived in another state (Wisconsin) and that we went there once to see an aunt and cousins.

The Wisconsin family that I did know I mostly knew through packages I received in the mail. The sister and brother-in-law of my biological father were my godparents, so they would send me things periodically for my birthday or holidays. It was one of the times that I felt like I actually was someone special. I had to make a decision about losing these people as my godparents if we went through with the adoption. My mom wanted to cut off all communication with that family once the adoption was complete. I would get new godparents (the brother and sister-in-law of my new "dad”). Since I never saw my Wisconsin aunt and uncle anyways, I figured it would be fine to make this transition. Plus, I was hoping that being the godchild of an aunt and uncle who lived closer would mean I would get even more presents! It didn’t work out that way. These new godparents treated me the same way they always had. I was no one special to them.

With that, the paperwork was drawn up, and we were scheduled to officially be Ludwigs. I found out later that my biological father knew about this and had to sign away his rights to being our father. I learned that he felt like this was the best thing to do since he had issues with alcohol at the time and lived too far away to truly have a relationship with us anyway.

Our name change/adoption didn’t happen until a few weeks into the school year. I remember meeting with our teachers beforehand and asking to change the roster to our new names for the start of the year since we knew it would be official soon enough. So when third grade started, I was officially Trudy Ludwig! It was so amazing to finally have the same name as the rest of the family! But that excitement didn’t last long. Sure, it was cool to feel like I fit in, but a name change didn't change where we came from. I was still not a blood relation, and I still felt left out. About the only person that ever made me feel like I was part of the family was my cousin Joey. He was the son of my “dad’s” brother (not my new godparent’s son), and he was very close in age to us - only a week and a day older than Tracy and me. As we got older, we continued to be close and even deemed ourselves the “Ludwig Trio.” We were lucky to have him in our lives because he accepted us and just wanted to be friends - no matter where we came from. Out of all the people who should have cared for us, it was this kid our own age who gave us what no one else was willing to - an identity.