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The first memory I have was visiting my grandparents in Carson, CA. I was around 4 years old. I remember my mom walking me into their home and that it was during the daytime, but it was fairly dim inside the house. There weren't any windows in the living room, just a sliding glass door to the backyard, letting some sunlight in. It seemed like a strange place to me. Everything seemed strange and new, but there was a sense of welcomeness, something familiar. My mom encouraged me to hug and embrace my grandparents -- instead, I immediately hid near a corner, behind a chair. I was so shy and afraid to greet them, even though they took care of me during ages 1-4 while my mom would go to work. I didn't have any recollection of that at the time, though, and I still don't. I didn't know what to do or say or feel; I didn't know how. I instinctively just wanted to hide myself.

I felt that this was my first memory while it was happening -- the first time I was aware of anything, yet so unaware of what's going on.

I feel like this memory pretty much sums up who I am.