I guess this is where I will write a little about myself.
I am writing my life story and I am hoping to create a buzz for the book. I am also hoping to connect with people who understand. Maybe help some people in the process, feels a little self righteous to think that I could help someone, but you are here reading this so maybe.
I grew up poor. Like living in a shelter, going to bed hungry, poor. I attribute a lot of the horrible childhood I had to my mother and her decisions in life. My dad wasn't around much growing up.
Being a single mom isn't easy. I know this first hand. I had my oldest when I was 15. I had to work harder. Fighting generational curses as well as teen mom stereotypes, clawing my way up from being seen as just poor white trash. My mother chose the route of playing the victim. My father chose drugs and alcohol. Neither of them chose us kids. Two of the most selfish people in this world decided to have children and I don't have very many memories where us kids didn't pay the price for it.
I hope to discuss this more in a podcast.
Many more stories about growing up are in the book.
I was a teen mom. There are many hardships that come with being a mother so young. One thing I have learned over the years is that being a mom isn't all that easy for anyone. You always think you are messing it up royally. Being this open and raw, critics are sure to judge on my parenting ability. Let them judge me, they haven't lived my life.
I know for sure my children love me and don't think I fucked up too badly.
My first marriage was at the age of 16 to a man 5 years older than me. (yes you can get married that young if your parents agree to it, even in a progressive state like Maine.) No I wasn't forced to marry this man. It was a decision I made. A decision no child should be allowed to make. It's no surprise that this man turned out to be a predator. 16 year old me would learn a lot of hard lessons over the 5 years I was with this man.
This part of my life is harder to write about. I want to scream at that girl to run. I know that everything I have gone through has made me who I am today, so I can’t skip through.
Do I have regrets? Of course. Most of them have to do with the guilt I feel that I dragged my kids through that shit storm. I think my children have made me a better person; I hope that feeling is mutual. I hope I have raised independent, strong, caring humans.
When I think of that time of my life it’s almost like it didn’t happen to me. When I write about my life at that time, it almost feels like someone else’s life, sitting here about to turn 38 writing this it feels like a life time ago.
I want to say that my 20’s were where things turned around. Anyone who has ever met a 20 something knows that would be quite a story.
I think I preferred the wolves I had encountered in those early years. You know a wolf when you see one, sure when you first see it, you could mistake it for a dog. As you get closer you realize and maybe you can’t run right away but you know eventually you will have to run.
I met the man my children call Dad when I was 23. They where 3, 5,and almost 8. When we met his, son was 9 months old.
We were together for almost a decade. I didn’t know it then but he is a narcissist. If you have no idea what that means than you are fortunate. If you know exactly what I am saying, I hope we get to know each other (one of the many perks of social media.) Maybe you wont even know what I am talking about until you read more about my experiences.
It took a long time before I realized it wasn’t me. I wasn’t crazy for wanting basic human decency. It takes a long time to heal from wounds no one else sees. 6 years of being away and some of those wounds still aren’t healed. Maybe they aren’t meant to heal, a constant reminder to never give someone all of you.
The chapter you have walked in on is my favorite. Those other chapters will always have cameos in this chapter but are meant to live in the book.
Follow along, get to know me, send me a message, help me write this book, & help me build a Castle.