I have this childhood memory that's been eating away at my brain lately. See, I moved to a new neighborhood when I was seven and obviously wanted to make new friends. I went to play with two neighborhood kids and got in a fight with the younger one when trying to redirect him from disobeying his mom. I lost my temper and screamed, then his mom took me home and banned me from playing with her kids again. Nobody listened to my side of the story. My mom refused to believe me when I told her that the other kid started the fight, not me. And a year later even said something about me throwing something at him (which I didn't) even though she wasn't there to see what happened. I still feel hurt that no one believed me.
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