I was a happy kid… I think. My mom tells me her dominant memory of me as a little guy was the persistent sound of laughter coming from my room. More than once, my room was little more than a closet, and once, an actual closet.
My parents divorced when I was ~2-3 years old. After that, my dad would be gone from my life until I was 18. I remember the sense of loss, the fear of the yelling voices, and the loss of security.
Luckily, I was raised with my uncles and had no lack of powerful men to show me how to be a man. However, my rebellious phase was still extreme.