I had a very keen sense of what punk was at a young age. I remember being 4 or 5, living in LA, and seeing groups of punk kids running around. I knew there was something 'different' about them, and something 'different' about me. I instantly identified with them. I knew I'd one day join their ranks.
My parents took me to a sitar concert, and there was a punk girl sitting behind us. I was awestruck! I wanted this cool older girl to kidnap me so I could tag along on her punk rock adventures. But alas that didn't happen. She just gave me my first stick of gum, much to my moms dismay.
I had an older cousin who wore tight clothes, teased her hair to high heaven, and hung Red Kross and Dead Kennedy's posters on her walls. The first (and only) time we met she dyed a chunk of my hair orange. Once again, mom was pissed. Mom redyed it so dad never knew.
One day when riding the bus some punk kids were cussing up a storm. An elderly woman stood up and confronted them. She told them to watch their language around young children, then pointed at me. Meanwhile I thought to myself "Oh fuck you, you old hag!" haha
Years passed and life happened. I was a product of violence, poverty, and abuse. My relationship with my mother was so bad that I often ran away for weeks at a time. We were living in Portland, OR then - the runaway capitol of America. I'd hang around the square or Burnside and meet random squatters and other street kids.
I noticed a pink haired girl working a coffee stand near Powells Books one day. As I came closer I heard the loudest, angriest music blasting from her boombox. It was unlike anything I'd heard before. The vocalist was..... female. The whole band was. The pink haired girl told me they were called Babes in Toyland.
I spared enough change to buy a copy of 'fontanelle' from Ozone, which I'd blast on my walkman day after day. Though not punk rock per se, Babes in Toyland opened the floodgates for me. Soon after I got into the Lunachicks, L7, and Area 51. When a goth girl approached me to ask what I was listening to, she recommended I check out Crass, and Maximum Rock & Roll magazine. I got into zines. Through zines I acquired pen pals, and though pen pals I acquired mix tapes. The ball kept rolling from there.
At 14 I went to live with my dad in Seattle, and immersed myself in the local punk scene. I started silk screening patches and t shirts. I would get store credit from local record shops + mail order catalogs like Dr. Strange and Angry Young and Poor, and could afford obscure/expensive Brit punk records this way. My interest in 'collectors genres' had kickstarted. One thing lead to another, and here I am today.