A Peek into My Past

I was IMing with an English friend of mine tonight, and we started talking about my family, and the lack of support I receive from them. He replied with the almost obligatory reply that I hear from everyone, "that's sad." I guess it is. But I am used to it.

When I was growing up my mom called me a bitch everyday of my teen years, everytime she got the chance. I was an independent, and sometimes overdramatic girl, trying to discover the woman inside her. I challenged authority whenever I thought it was unjust, or needed to be changed in some way. I refused to be a pawn. My mom didn't like that I didn't jump when she said jump, and that I would rather get beat than clean my room. The biggest problem with my mom and I is that we are too much alike.

I didn't have consensual sex until I was 17, but I had lots of boyfriends. My mom referred to me as a whore on a regular basis as well. A whore? don't they have sex? Sometimes with multiple partners in the same week? Yeah, well... whatever. I know what I know, and she can live in her delusional reality.

I ran away when I was 17. My mom had let my sister's boyfriend move in with us, and he was the same age as I was... and took it as a challenge to see how much authority he could assert over me. He was an ass, who was physically abusive, and my mom and her cohorts thought having all of the lights out in the house during a horror movie was more important than me studying for finals and other classes. They all thought it was fun to smoke and stay up all night drinking wine while I was sleeping in the room next to them. My sister let my mom be dominant because she knew it was an easier and happier life for her. I still refused to be told when to jump.

I came up with this plan to have someone pick me up at 7am at my house, with my bags, and I would leave the little town my mom and dad had moved me to... wave bye to the evil adopted step-brother I had acquired, along with the bitch of a mom who I was born to... and I would never look back.

During the time I was gone I started a whirlwind romance with Reagan, Ian, and Maddie's Dad. He was the first one I called when I got back to town (the town my mom and dad moved me from to go live in this shithole little village in the middle of nowhere). We were best friends. I loved him for the advice he could give me, the respect he showed me, and the flirting never did either one of us any harm. Eventually, that would end in turmoil... but when I was 17 it was bliss.

I was gone for 5 weeks from my house. I travelled to 3 different cities, in two different states, dodged police raids, and having all of my money stolen from me. I was this close to having the shady family I was staying with get me new papers to become the new person I was gonna be. We were already making plans to move to California. That was thousands of miles away from everything I knew. Suddenly I was getting cold feet. I called home. My sister answered and was so upset. My parents were going crazy that they didn't know where I was. I didn't know if that was for fear, or lack of control.... but either way she ended up setting me up. I called back later, when my sister had told me it would be safe to call... only to find out my parents were on the other line of the phone... waiting to beg for me to come home. Promises of a better life, looser reigns, and a later curfew spilled forth over the phone lines. Their ultimate goal was to get me home so that I could graduate highschool. I had already missed the first week. I caved. By running away, I had made the statement that I had wanted to: There is something seriously wrong with this scenario, and something needs to change.

I went back, and worked my ass off in school. I had no social life, as in earlier years my sister had told everyone I was a devil worshipper who had upside down crosses and red candles all over my room. (She did this to gain popularity. I was Miss Popularity in the town we had moved from, and she was the Queen of the Nerds. Now, with this upperhand, she had managed to turn the tables completely and became the Life of the Party.) I studied my ass of, graduated early-- with honors, enrolled in college, and moved out THE DAY I graduated from high school. I had them mail me my diploma. I was never ever going back to that shithole school ever again. And I wouldn't shed a tear if I never had to visit the shithole town my mom and dad moved me to.

What did I get from my parents for this wonderful achievement in my life? Not a party like most, not money like some... not even a congrats. I got a card that was supposed to be funny.... that said "wow, we thought you would never make it.... blah blah blah"

Thanks a fucking lot, Mom and Dad. Glad you believed in me. Just because they dropped out and condemned themselves to a life of factory work and menial jobs here and there, doesn't mean I was gonna follow in the same footsteps.

I was in college (which I hated) before I was 18 (not funded at all by my parents, I had got a scholarship for my grades in highschool). I dropped out a semester later, and moved in with my best friend who was now my sweetheart. Shortly after I started popping out babies, and the rest is my life as we know it.

And still... after all of this (which is only a small glimpse into my real life), I manage to smile. As I told my English Friend, "ya wipe away the tears, realize it won't change, and move on, cuz what else can ya do?" I couldn't choose the family I was born to, but I can choose if I want to be surrounded by their negativity. I still have my days where it hurts, but you know what? The happiness I have created by the choices I have made in my life, FAR outweigh the loss I have for that part of my family. Life Goes On.

Hugs to all of you. And Remember... you always have choices :) Make them :)