the self fulfilled prophecy?

when i was a tiny kid and my basic childhood memories were being formed, probably, my parents use to take me to church. i went cus i was a little kid. they also use to dress me in dresses and i maybe even liked them.
the pastor there had a dog that i think was a collie. and i think maybe the dogs name was blueberry or muffin because everytime i recall these memories, i think of blueberry muffins. this man use to call me a troublemaker. as far as i'm concerned, i never caused much trouble. i remember i use to love doodling in my mom's agenda during the sermons. i would often redraw a painting that i think my oldest sister drew long ago, an alien of sorts and it said 'the truth is out there'. i looked up to her a lot as a little girl, since she was my favorite sister then and to this day, she still holds the title. we always got along perfectly well. she never really judged me and she had a lot of unique talent. my other sister had talents as well. academically, she was second to none. she was probably a child genius and somewhere in high school- it all went away, like maybe it was never there and she had produced all those awards and honors herself, in art class or something.
what that pastor called me has always stuck out in my mind, for the past fifteen years, probably. it was the first time i remember someone calling me a "troublemaker" and it was definitely not the last. it wasn't until the past six or so years that i've actually done anything i thought was troublesome. in the sixth grade, a teacher i had, ms. bell (she was widowed. half death. had a bee farm. knew sign language). she told my mother i spoke in class too much. a follower. that i should be kept separated from chris, my best friend and also the boy who i had much affection for.
even as she said it, i thought, bullshit. i'm not a follower. people follow me.
my mom grounded me.

i think, maybe, if a person hears something enough they will become whatever it is society is constantly telling them they are.
it's a shame i'll never be a mother because sometimes i think i could create some fantastic mini humans. they would be brilliant and go far in life and understand that a fat bank account does not mean they have gone far in life. it's a shame, but it's a bigger shame the reasons why i refuse to procreate.

what i mean from all this is, i dont necessarily think i am a troublemaker. though, others seem to think so. i've also been told i have a way about me that leads people to believe i fuck on the first date. generally, untrue. i've been told i have a slut's smile. maybe, but i've yet to meet a professional slut and compare our grins. none of it has ever mattered- and i don't think it ever will matter. i don't wake up and think about who i am going to fuck over on that day. i live my life always looking for who i can help, inspire, lead, listen to, or hug. i enlisted in the army for several reasons but a huge personal reason was to help. i wanted nothin more than to help the people who could not help themselves.
and it was a huge mistake. and sometimes i fear i hurt more than i helped. but there's nothing that can be done or said about that today.

i think the moral of this is, consider what it is you say to people.