When I was in 6th grade I tried out for a part in the Christmas program and was selected. I was thrilled!

I had to beg my parents to go.

I didn't know if they were going to attend until I saw them after it was over.

My older sister had been in a choir program about 2 years before, and I remember how excited my Mom was about it. I just wanted them to be as proud of me as they were my sister.

That doesn't even begin to compare with the pain and sorrow so many have suffered.

Moni- I am so sorry about your parents. It's so sad that you had to endure such misery.

When my Mom and Dad got a divorce and I had to choose between them - they fought a lot and I was usually in the middle. It was a hard time in my life, because I loved them both so much.

When I answered the phone and a stranger to me told me how sorry they were that my dad was dying. I was 11. When I was 6 my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer, spent months with her in the hospital. Then boom, my dad.

That my mom, who suffered severe extreme sexual, physical and emotional abuse as a child, never sought help until I was a teenager.

I feel it makes me sound selfish but I grew up being raised by a horribly broken person who had no idea what she was doing and who seriously screwed up on a variety of things but at the same time, I know she was doing the best she could at that time.

I'm not angry at her, how could I possibly blame her for her parenting mistakes, look at the example she had? She did the best she could, trying to make certain her kids didn't experience the same abuse she did as a child, and we didn't. She cut off all ties with her abusive family and made certain we weren't exposed to those people.

Once she finally sought counseling when I was 14, she got much better but a lot of the damage was done.

She has apologized countless times for all the things she did and has made it clear that she knows she can't make up for what she did when I was a child.

I've accepted her apology but, that doesn't erase the damage that was done.

I'm a damaged person, and it affects not only me, but my children and the way I parent them.

My first disappointment in life was the first day of Kindergarten. I desperately wanted to learn how to read. I not only loved being read to but was fascinated by how adults got information from the newspaper. I would stare and stare at it but no matter how hard I concentrated, the symbols made no sense. I went to school happily day after day and knew my ABC's but grew glum when there was no reading. Then there was the dreading singing. I can still see the teacher gathering us around the piano and her pounding away on the keys like Jerry Lee Lewis. I disliked the songs and would rather something more like the songs on the radio so I thought that I invented lip-syncing. While staring out the window.

I must have been the Wednesday Addams of Kindergarten.

Oh man, the disappointment of having to wear clean clothes to school.

When I was 17 all but one gift that I got for Christmas was to clear up my acne. Seriously! Nothing was a personal gift except for a "nothing book" A hardcover book with over 300 blank pages so I could write my own story. The rest was for my face because apparently nobody liked my face. I had acne. So I got a facial sauna, an electric facial cleaner and tons of bottles of acne cleansers and gels. Merry Christmas to pimple face is what I remember.

We lived in an area without many kids when I was little. I really really really wanted to go to kindergarten and do fun stuff and make lots of friends. They didn't have kindergarten the year I was supposed to go because they were building a new one. The next year my brother got to start kindergarten while I started first grade. I did make friends there, but we moved school two years later.

((hugs)) to all of you who had serious situations to deal with. I'm glad you made it through, and I'm sorry for any lingering pain.

We were in a fabric store and I convinced Mom to buy some fabric printed with the coolest map of the whole world! We went home and nothing ever happened. Mom didn't make me a top or dress from it. Fashion moved on, lol, and I didn't think any more of it until decades later when Mom was going through her fabric stash with us. Someone pulled out the map-printed cloth, and no one except me even remembered it. So that's all my (childish) enthusiasm was worth, huh? Oh well, if that's all I can complain about, that's not much.

I also want to add hugs for all of you who dealt with sad situations that went far beyond mere disappointments :^( My own childhood was not very good either, dysfunctional family and lots of loneliness.

The disappointment memory that stands out for me was in 6th grade. Upon arriving at school on Monday, I noticed all the other girls in class had these very trendy, hand crafted barrettes in their hair. It turned out the most popular girl in our class had her birthday over the weekend and every girl but me was invited and had gotten these barrettes. For weeks all the other girls had these beautiful barrettes in their hair and the feeling/reminder of being singled out in a bad way was hard to take.

I was an outcast and very poorly treated within my own family, but there was something about the overt rejection of my peers that somehow seemed worse.

Unlike some comments here, I had a very happy childhood. And I was the youngest so tended to be spoiled a bit (much to my siblings' dismay.....they still comment on it!!) But one instance stands out as being a big disappointment to my childhood pysche. Every September, in conjunction with my older brother's birthday, we went to the state fair. It was a very big deal and much anticipated. All the animals, rides, foods, etc. We looked forward to it all year.

But I had recurring ear problems (this in the days before tubes to relieve/reduce the issue) until I had my tonsils removed when I was 6. And I must have developed an ear infection and serious earache at this time (it could also have been measles or chicken pox - who remembers that far back!!) that prevented me from going with the rest of the family. I had to stay home with my grandmother who lived with us then.

I was devastated!! I remember standing at the hall window watching the family leave and crying my eyes out. It was obviously a big very deal to me at the time if I remember it that distinctly some 60+ years later :-)

I used to have a blanket that I called "softy". I dragged it all over the house, losing it many times as it ended up under a bed or something. There came a time when I could never find softy, which was getting pretty ratty looking by that time. Turns out my Mom had thrown softy out. I know it sounds stupid, but I told her recently how I still resented that she threw out my blankie. 55 years later, I was still upset.

My other huge disappointment was when my step-brother got married my Mom did not allow me to be the flower girl in his wedding. They had a huge hatred for each other, and he caused many problems in my parent's marriage throughout the years. I didn't understand what an evil person he was then, I just wanted to wear a pretty dress.

My father was crazy. I was a good kid. I never caused any trouble. The boys I dated were super nice guys. I came home from a date twice and my dad pulled a gun on them when they walked me to the door. My sister got pregnant at 17 and ran off to Tennessee. Came home about 2 years later, pregnant again and divorced. That was before I was born when she left....I was a baby when she came back. So I don't know if that induced his irrational behavior, or the fact he died from 2 massive brain tumors a few years later. I think he was just crazy. I had a best friend who lived in Houston and her family had a weekend place in my little town, so I spent all weekends and summers at her house and dated from there.

When I was 19, my dad retired and he and my mother wanted to travel, but they had no one to watch me. They wanted me to get married. My husband was the only boy I dated that they liked. My mother liked him because she felt sorry for him because he was an orphan. My dad liked him because he was a hard worker. He was old beyond his years and probably the only one they should have run off. Anyway, I got married but if I had my life to do over, I would have run from all of them. But I had horses and all my life I have never been able to leave them.

I'm sorry you have such a big regret, Marilyn. There are many sad stories here and I'm sorry for you all. One I remember is similar to quafish's: I was set to see the Ice Capades with my Campfire Girls troop when I developed a terrible boil at the edge of my mouth. My mom was fine with allowing me to attend (!) but my sister shook a dill pickle spear at me at dinner and made me laugh aloud, breaking open the boil. Ick, and no more Ice Capades. I cried and cried. On a larger scale, I was always disappointed, to say the least, when my dad came home drunk.

Some of these stories are shocking and very sad. I wonder why so many here have had such experiences?

Fortunately, I was raised in a normal, happy, encouraging household with 4 other siblings.

Disappointment isn't the word, but I was heart broken at 12 when my mother died of cancer. There was no treatment for liver cancer then.

I'm so sorry to hear these stories. I've had my trials and tribulations with my parents being verbally abusive and one parent abusing one of my sisters. I've worked on it but I know it affects me. I constantly tell myself not to let my experiences be the story I tell myself and that helps me. Hugs to all of you!

Sjerin, it isn't a big deal any more. It was hard to deal with back then.

Just read the story about the hair barrettes.....reminded me of when I was about 5 yrs old. I remember because I remember the house we were living in at the time. I had an invitation to a birthday party. My mother forgot to buy a gift for the little boy, so she gave me an apple and an orange in a brown paper bag. I didn't know any better. I had never been to a b/d party.

When it came time for him to open his gifts, he got wonderful toys. I remember the trucks and he got a toy gas station. Then he got mine, he looked in the bag, puzzled. His mother took it and set it on top of the refrigerator. I knew that my gift was very inadequate and I felt shamed.

The school I went to was very small. We knew everyone from grades 1 to 12. A girl in my first grade class had a b/d party. Everyone got an invitation and everyone showed up but me. I didn't trust my mother not to send me off with another apple and banana in a bag. Afterwards she asked me why I didn't attend her party. I told her I didn't like parties. The next year and thereafter she always had a party but I was never invited again. She told me, as she passed out the invitations, "I didn't invite you because you don't like parties."

When my daughter started school, there were always lots of b/d parties. I knocked myself out to make sure she had a very nice gift to take, and it was wrapped really beautifully.

My happy normal childhood ended when my parents split up when I was three. Shortly after, mom met someone else. I recall the first meeting with him when I sensed his great dislike (hate) for me. I won't go into too much detail, but he was very abusive. Everyday he told me I was stupid and ugly among other things. One day, when I was sixteen, I left and have been on my own since. It took me many, many, many years to realize I am not stupid ........ or ugly.

Hugs, Summer. I think you are beautiful.

Every time my dad came home and said he lost his job and we would have to move, it was a wrenching experience. He was a farmhand and we always lived in housing provided by his boss. No job = no place to live.

Twice, he couldn’t get another job immediately and we were more or less homeless. We stayed with his parents in a 4 room house (there were 8 of us, not counting grandma and grandpa) with a coal stove in the living room and a cold water hand pump in the kitchen. No bathroom, of course. When he finally found another job, we’d move again. 13 different schools before I graduated.

After I married and had kids, I was determined that my boys never had to change schools. And they didn’t.

When I graduated from High School in 1938 at age 15 (!) I was at the top of my class and received several scholarships. I was the oldest of a family of 7. Our lives were fairly comfortable until the depression and the drouth hit us. Dad had a general store, an elevator, and a stockyards. He continued to let neighbors have groceries even though they couldn't pay. The drouth in our rural community was severe-crops dried up in the fields. Because there was no food for them, cattle and hogs were sold off. As a result there was no grain to buy and no livestock to ship.

All of this meant a huge drop in our family income so my prospects seemed dim. However, I thought I might work in the local cannery, thus earning some money for clothes and other necessities which would not be covered by the scholarships. My father took me to apply for a cannery job but I was rejected because I was a year too young to work. Dad taught me a valuable lesson that day. He well knew that there were some 15-year-olds working, but he never suggested that I lie about my age.

So, my dreams of college collapsed. There were no student loans or other helps at that time. I did learn that one must be honest, no matter the cost, a lesson I never forgot.

I grew up 'the beautiful little pawn' in the middle of a separation.

My father and mother started from nothing. After five years of marriage, they'd created a successful business together. He wanted children. My mother had a difficult time conceiving and was ill through most of her pregnancy. My father started an affair with his secretary. When he refused to end it, my mother threw him out. I was two and a half. My mother fought a divorce. She didn't want to publicly name him an adulterer. No-fault divorce didn't exist in the 1940's, and yes, their divorce was published in the newspapers. I was six.

My father never paid the child support or alimony ordered by the court. My mother struggled to support herself, her widowed mother and me.

My father married his secretary. One day I answered our phone and my father exclaimed, "You have a baby sister!" I put the receiver down. He held some fantasy that I would somehow become part of this second family.

One of my earliest memories is sitting on our front step, dressed up and waiting for Daddy. Sometimes he'd appear -- an hour late. Often he wouldn't show up at all. When I was in grammar school he would be a no-show at a father/daughter event or dinner. I stopped asking.

My mother always said my father had left *her*. I was an adult before I was able to see that he made the choice to leave her and *me*.

When I was about 13/14 and my mom told me that I wasn't particularly attractive and at around 18 when she told me that I probably would never get married because of my looks. Years later I found out that she told all of my sisters the same thing.

For the most part my childhood was just ok but what got me through my childhood and high school is that I was smart and so always had that to fall back on as a plus.

I was not one of the cool kids in elementary school. I was overweight, with buck teeth, and my mother braided my hair and dressed me in ways that were totally uncool to the cool group. I was also very shy and very nerdy. I well remember Valentine's Day where kids brought Valentines for each other and I think I ended up with a small handful, at best, in a class of 30-40 students (baby boomer huge classrooms at the time). I still wince remembering how obvious it was and how I just wanted to crawl away and die.

While I did get all the acne stuff, my childhood was very good. I had a birthday party every year. We celebrated Christmas and Easter every year. I had a warm bed to sleep in. Three healthy meals a day: all home cooked by mom. She made all our baked good and desserts and sewed our clothes. We went camping almost every single weekend in the summer. My dad drove us all the way to Disneyland, TWICE! I never went hungry or cold. I wasn't popular in school (I was at the bottom of the totem pole) but I had a lot of friends. My parents were extremely strict, yet I had everything I needed (not everything I wanted, like todays kids) I really had nothing really "sad" happen to me until my grandfather died when I was 18 and my son was born a month later and I learned he had Down Syndrome. Those were my first two things that I had to deal with. My one "disappointment" really isn't that bad. It's just the one thing that stuck out when I thought back to being disappointed about something. I have a ton more good memories that I honestly prefer to remember. :)

When it comes to my childhood, I echo Debby. Of course I appreciate that strict Irish Catholic upbringing now more than I did then, but I had very loving and giving parents who set a good example for us to learn from.

My biggest disappointment is that I never knew my paternal grandparents or most of my dad’s 10 brothers and sisters. My grandmother passed when my dad was only 10 and my grandfather passed when I was a baby. Only 1 very old sister still remains, all of the others have now passed. They lived on the east coast and we were on the west. I’ve heard stories that make me think the distance was my father’s preference but I would have loved to have been a part of the huge family of cousins, aunts and uncles all living reasonably close to each other.

Oh my gosh; I can hardly read some of these stories. I feel horrible for those of you who didn't have the Beaver Cleaver life I had. My biggest disappointment was that I didn't ever get a horse! My dad broke the cycle of dysfunction. He went 360 degrees the opposite way. He loved us and gave us more than he should have. I'm 100% sure that I gave him far more disappointments than he ever gave us!

Elmer J Fudd, I think it appears that there are so many sad stories because once some of these stories have been told, disappointments such as mine are just silly and very shallow.

New Year’s Eve is my biggest disappointment. The first time my parents allowed me to stay up until midnight, I expected lights, glitter, music, angelic choruses, something fantastic. Nope. The clock just ticked over from 11:59 to 12:00. To this day, I’m not a fan of New Year’s Eve. I’m happy with a nice dinner, some good wine, and a normal bedtime. I’m so boring....

I like your NYE story! It made me recall my first time staying up until 12:00. I was so excited. I knelt on the couch parting the curtains, with my nose up against the glass and nothing happened for me either. I wanted fireworks.

My grade school always had one day a year when we could bring a not-yet-school-age sibling to school to show them around. I was very excited to take my little sister (who was 5 years old) to school with me. She got all dressed up for the day, and we headed off to school. A neighbor boy came running up to us before we got on the school bus and told me that bringing a little one to school had been cancelled that year. I didn't know what to do, so I turned to my dear little sister and told her that I couldn't bring her to school that day. She burst into tears and ran home heartbroken. I wanted to cry too, I was so disappointed. When I got to school, I realized that the neighbor boy had lied, and I could have taken her to school with me that day.

Sad stories but I think that when people are able to talk/write about them, it means they’re at least partially healed, at least I hope so, for all who have written.

i have deleted my entry as it’s a mere whine in comparison to the heartbreak discussed here. My apologies.

When I was in 6th grade our class had been chosen to sing in a county wide performance.

We practiced daily.

I was so excited and so were my parents. My mom made me a very pretty dress to wear. (We were really poor so it was a sacrifice for the family.)

The day of the performance my teacher told me I was NOT to sing but could mouth the words and turn the pages.

I was heartbroken.

I still get tears in my eyes just thinking about that day. It was about 75 years ago.

This is another disappointment I had....not as bad as my parents picking my husband or not getting invited to birthday parties....but I just thought about it today.

I wanted a horse so badly when I was a kid. My brother who was in the army told me if I would let my hair grow, when he came back, he would buy me a horse. However, he got stationed in Germany, met and married a German girl, and had other obligations.

I decided the only way I was going to get a horse, I would have to save up the money and buy it myself. I had saved $9, and one day at the feed store....we had a cow, chickens and other animals....I saw a bridle for sale and it was $9. I wanted to buy it....I had the money. My mother wouldn't let me buy the bridle because I had no horse, but to me, having the bridle was "part of" having the horse. I wouldn't have the horse, but at least I would have the bridle. No matter how I begged and cried, she wouldn't let me buy the bridle.

I did eventually get the horse. I got him for my 11th birthday. My mother had to braid my hair....because I never would cut it, and she told me if I would cut my hair, she would buy me a horse. (Actually my grandmother died and with a little money left over out of the estate, that is what bought my $55 horse.) I didn't cut my hair for another 3 years though. I wore braids until I was 14.

Marilyn your love of horses reminds me of this story. I was very close with a co-worker. One day we’re sharing our religious views and she confided that she didn’t believe in God. Her reason? She had told her parents she wanted a horse for Christmas and they told her to pray on it and have faith that it’d happen. It didn’t. I could still feel her anger as she shared the story. I didn’t know what to say and we never talked religion again, ha

Yes....that seems like a good subject to avoid. I never prayed for a horse but I wished on the Evening Star every night, and in my prayers that I said every night, after I got the horse, I remember ending them "God bless Mama, God bless Daddy, God bless everyone. Thank you for my horse. Amen."

Marilyn, I like the gratitude you had for your horse.

Bossyvossy, that candy bar story made me sad. I relate to what you said about not sharing food and not eating certain foods as well. I've never admitted it before, but because of things that happened when I was a kid, I will occasionally buy single servings of things like cake and bring them home and eat them alone without anyone else ever knowing that they were in the house. I can enjoy them without sharing, justifying, judgment, etc.

A few years ago I got hold of some really wonderful caramel filled chocolates (limited because they were seasonal), and since I knew DH would make very short work of the lot, I bagged them carefully and hid them in the hall cabinet so I could enjoy them over the course of time. The darn ants found them and chewed through 2 plastic bags to get into them. That was horrible to throw out and left me wondering if the ants and losing the chocolate were punishment for being selfish :( This last part may not be so much of a disappointment as a guilt confession.

My disappointment was that my aunt and uncle weren't my parents. They were both more loving to me than my parents were.

I am so sorry for the major issues and disappointments so many of you had as children. I read some of these earlier and found it really hard to come up with really anything I found disappointing as a child.

I had a pretty normal childhood with parents who loved and provided for us in every way. I don’t remember ever asking for too much. The only disappointment I can really remember is asking to participate in the high school band when I started high school and being told no. The reason was because I had been taking piano lessons since 3rd grade. My parents thought I shouldn’t give it up. I, on the other hand, was tired of the lessons, didn’t really think I was all that talented. So basically from that point on, I didn’t even try as hard as before. I did continue for another year or so and was taking organ lessons in parallel at the time. But my heart was never in it. I guess it was a bit of rebellion on my part. My younger brother, however, was a different story. Whatever he wanted, my dad said yes to it. It was different for the girl.

quasifish, you were not selfish to hid the treats from your husband. I used to live with someone like him. You do what you have to do. But next time, use some good Tupperware or Snapware.

When I was 7 (I think) my dad asked my what I would like for my birthday, and I asked for the record "Telstar" which had been a hit that summer. It was no longer in the record shop but my dad had them order it.

One day he came home from work with it and put it on the stereo to surprise me. Unfortunately, my seven-year-older (half)-sister had to make one of her jealous nasty remarks to me about it. I still remember sitting at the table as it played, trying to hold back the tears while feeling so guilty for having been so selfish as to ask for a record for my birthday.

Yes, it was a "blended" family that didn't. I have no contact now with any of those 3 half siblings.

Quasifish, when I’m trying to hide something from DH, I put it in the freezer labeled “eggplant.” Works like a charm!

I really, really wanted some cowboy boots when I was in elementary school. Never happened.

I’m sorry for all,of you who had such sad things happen during your childhood. My first disappointment seems so trivial but I remember it well. I was a little kid when Queen Elizabeth was crowned. I watched the news about her on tv. I wanted a “coronation skirt” in the worst way. It was a full skirt with pictures of crowns and scepters and all sorts of royal doodads. I lusted for that skirt. My mother bought one for my older sister, but not for me. I was heartbroken and green with envy. Later I asked my mom about that and she told me they didn’t make it in my size. Boo hoo.

greywings and bbstx, thanks for the advice, it made me laugh. I'm glad I'm not the only one who deals with this sort of thing.

I always wished for a horse, too. I had a place all picked out behind our tool shed and swing set for it. When we finally moved to where we had room for a horse, I was 13 and didn't have time for it any more.

About the same time, I started becoming more interested in playing the piano, but my parents and teacher decided that since I'd been so DISinterested for two years prior, it was time to quit/not waste the money. I was too shy to say "but NOW I'm interested!" I also wanted my brother's teacher, who taught him popular music and improvisation (and was our very cool band director). But no.

My other disappointment is surprising. When I was six, I woke up one morning to see a shiny, new, red Schwinn two-wheeler bicycle in my bedroom! Thrilling, right? No! I was confused! I spent minutes staring at it, wondering if it was Christmas or my birthday and I had forgotten, or if I had entered a time warp (I was/am kind of nerdy), or just what the heck was going on. I couldn't enjoy the moment. I did have many nice years with the bike, even though it wasn't a horse. Or a Stingray like my brothers had (and which I could pretend were horses because one was black and the other gold).

Times for Farmers in the 1940s were tough for the ones who had not recovered from the Great Depression. My Dad was one of those. The only good time we had were the three to four years he spent in the oilfields as replacement worker for draftees. The war ended and Dad was anxious to go back to farming, an occupation he was ill suited for. Times were tough again for our family as out economic condition wilted while others around us were advancing. One year when I was about 10 yr old, my parents decided to gift a new calf to me as a reward for the labor I was preforming on the farm plus keeping my school work on par. The plan was for me to raise this calf to veal stage and then sell it to collect the sale price.

All seemed well for a couple of months until one morning during planting season, I came upon my parents having a hushed conversation while glancing at me; I sensed a problem, and then, Mom sheepishly addressed me to explain they did not have enough money to complete corn planting this year. They needed a couple hundred dollars more and asked to have my calf back. They needed to sell it. I felt a loss and disappointment of loosing a promised gift, and yet strangely, I felt that I was doing a duty to contribute to my family for future gains. I manned up and replied, "Yeah, Mom and Dad, take the calf. I understand.", while secretly thinking: Somehow, I knew from day one this was not to be. That's the way it was on the farm in those days.