my favorite story (revised)

I remember fondly gazing at my mother from a far, admiring her elegance and beauty. However, as I knew her only superficially, it was difficult for me to feel a deep sense of love or longing for her when she was no longer around. Truthfully, I didn't miss her at all. Being a child consumed with my own interests, I focused entirely on myself, as I had done since my earliest memories.
Had I been older, undoubtedly, I would have felt immense anxiety about being left alone in this vast world. But, being so young and accustomed to being taken care of, I assumed that someone would always be there for me. What occupied my thoughts was a curiosity about the people I would encounter. I wondered if they would be kind and polite, granting me the freedom and indulgence that my Ayah and the other native servants had always done.