> It may have to do with some of the rough emotional stuff
There is a strong pressure to censor this.
If kids remember, we could not do surgeries without anastesia on new borns, and could not marinate open wound in filthy diapers!
I told my mom about it decades ago, and she said there was a clown that jumped over the fence. Then I spent the rest of the party running around the house holding the balloons.
I visited places I lived in the past and it feels like a place somebody else lived, who were close to me, but still not "me".
I kinda suspect this is true for a lot of people, but since memories aren't time-stamped, they don't realize how early they are.
Folks like you drag it into the most unrelated conversations in the weirdest way.
I used to mod a trauma based subreddit and there was one dude who would _not_ drop it. Dudes name was something with MGM in it while he actively denied that FGM was a thing and that women are subject to sexual harassment.
Maybe the general public would give a shit if the MRA took feminists seriously at all, instead of shouting down the issues women face at the hands of the patriarchy that set up the circumcision practice in the first place.
Thing is most people generally fucking agree with you but you come off so fucking weird and you dismiss people who are actually struggling more than men are and like yeah “boo-hoo they cut our dicks” but COME ON, man.
This had NOTHING to do with that.
You drew a tangent line on this convo’s circle, another circle on that tangent line and then a different tangent line on the second circle at a different fucking angle to get to that topic from this one.
Of course, maybe I just remember the memory me replaying the memory to myself. Is there a meaningful difference even? Maybe all our memories after some time become blended with our re-narrating them and re-interpreting them.
There's also the phenomenon of having a memory of a memory. At age 10, I had a very solid recollection of my life at ages 5 to 6 (not so much of age 4). Now all I remember is that I used to remember a lot more than I do know.
You don’t have a complete picture or empathy for how trauma works.
Ban this person from your fiefdom if they’re OT - but also look in the mirror.
There's no meaningful difference on how you experience it as "real" even if its just a "re-enaction" of such reality, but it might help explain why so many humans remember things from their past slightly differently than they actually happened.
This can also serve as a trauma-recovery mechanism, allowing one to not remember stuff too traumatizing etc, the brain blocks it out or rewrites it as a dream, or whatever
I have exactly the same thing. It can get very detailed, too, but it really feels like remembering reminiscing about those memories at like 7-10.
An MRA failing to understand consent when they have an opportunity to make something about MGM in spite of being a “big fan”? what a shocker.
This is my submission for the June 2026 IndieWeb Carnival. The theme is “No way!?”, hosted by Alex Hsu.
It is widely known that people don’t remember the first 1-3 years of their childhood, only have episodic memory at 3-6 years old, and only after those first 5-6 years we start to form autobiographical memories. So when one day talking to my wife I asked her about her baby memories she looked puzzled.
Turns out she didn’t have them. She knew her defunct grandad was able to hold her in her arms and used to say that he’d die before she could recognize him, but only from what my in-laws have told her. He was right, he died not long after, and she doesn’t have any memories of her grandad. Only photos and a deep unexplicable affection she’s always had for him.
Childhood amnesia, also called infantile amnesia, is the inability of adults to retrieve episodic memories (memories of situations or events) before the age of three to four years.
– Childhood amnesia, Wikipedia
I thought she had a severe case of childhood amnesia, and googled it. I thought there’s no way people can’t remember their childhood, but turns out it’s the norm.
Note: I know these still can all be fabricated memories, but I really don’t have a way to prove or disprove they are correct memories other than talking with my parents. I’ve learned to not trust my brain too much, but these are still vivid memories I have stored somewhere. Real or not they are there.
I remember the second home I lived in. We moved there when I was less than a year old, before I could walk. I remember crawling on the floor and never doing it on all fours because I liked the cold of the tiles, specially the kitchen.
I remember sitting by the refridgerator and playing with the cables behind it, until my dad saw me, got really scared and berated me. I still love the smell of dust, but it does give me allergy now.
I remember crawling to my mom’s bed and asking for milk, and sleeping on top of her belly.
I remember when they switched the plastic baby bottle of milk with a glass of milk. The first time I puked because the milk somehow tasted different in glass.
I remember going to the kindergarden, coming back home, eating alfredo pasta while watching the power rangers.
Talking to my wife about this stuff made me think I was fabricating these memories. I do have awful short term memory, and I have found myself unconciously trying to fill the gaps and convincing myself of stuff that has never happened. So I mentioned it to my mom one day.
But she told me its true I never crawled on all fours. Its true one day my dad caught me playing with the refrigerator cables. And its true I sleeped on her belly. She did ask about the first home I lived in, but I don’t remember anything of that, so my memories start around 6-8 months old maybe.
I also remember one of my first nightmares. It was in the period after I was removed from my crib. I used to either sleep in my crib or with my parents, but this night I was sleeping alone.
That night my family watched a war movie on the VCR, maybe saving private ryan or something similar, and the helicopter struck me. I remember the vivid horrifying dream I had that night of running through a castle looking for my family, knowing they were dead, only to find them later undead at the top of the castle in the helicopter and leaving me there alone by myself. I woke up crying and went to sleep with my parents.
Not sure what that dream was about but it still feels sad until this day.
Why can I remember this stuff? I’m not sure. There’s a high chance it’s all fake and my mind is playing games. But on the other hand talking to my parents does really make it seem I remember stuff correctly, like how the home furniture was arranged, and rearranged, how the second floor was remodeled so I could have my own room, and WHO remodeled it. Stuff that they wouldn’t mention as a childhood anecdote before but I do remember.
It may have to do with some of the rough emotional stuff I also remember from this period. It’s a bit too personal to be sharing here, but also not that awfully grave. Just some sad memories like seeing my loved ones cry that maybe helped consolidate the others.