ERNIE AND ERNESTINA: Searching

Book Two, Chapter 207: Locked Up

Growing up, I wanted to dance — daydreamed about being a ballerina — and wanted to play the piano. I understand now that this was my way of trying to express myself. But my parents had no extra money for dancing lessons, a piano, or piano lessons.

At twenty-one, I met Ernie. If I couldn’t express myself, the next-best thing was to be with Ernie. Writers know how to express themselves, right? And I wanted to see the world through the eyes of a writer.

Ernie liked me, he said, because I believed in what he believed in — his fiction-writing — and because I was innocent and honest.

Innocent?

Honest?

Knowing what I know now, I would call myself ignorant rather than innocent. I knew very little about myself or anyone else. And repressed rather than honest. Too much of who I was or who I could be was locked inside me.

I was a secret garden, even to myself, and I didn’t have the key. I didn’t even know to look for it.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Ernestina

My writer husband’s favorite nickname for me was Ernestina, so in this 2-book memoir, he is Ernie. This is his story, our story, and my story. I invite you in.