The Story of Me

Well, as of late, I have been seeing posts of people's life stories, whether it's their whole life or snippets. So, I suppose it's time for me to toss my experiences into the ring, so be prepared.

While I had some time before this, I guess my story truly begins when I was put into foster care at the age of 4 after my younger sister passed. I don't remember a lot of the start, only fragments.

It was tough and possibly traumatizing for my kid self being yanked from my home to a temporary place, since the woman who picked me was on vacation at the time.

I remember bits of that place, mainly the kitchen and watching Thomas the Train with the other kids. Although fuzzy, those memories feel happy, or at least calm.

It didn't last long, as I was quickly brought to the foster home I'd live at for the next 4 years.

I'd like to say it got better, but I never fit in with the other members of my foster family. They were either normal or have moderate to severe special needs, whereas I hung in a weird middle area, which nobody really tried to understand.

I was forced into being things I wasn't, like a girly girl. They had my hair grow out from the bob, dressed me in pink, skirts, and dresses. Even had to do take ballet, which for my unmedicated attention deficient self, was the most boring thing in the world.

I also was scolded for some of my coping mechanisms, like talking aloud to myself, or rocking back and forth, but wasn't taught better ways to do it.

School wasn't better. Kids bullied me and teachers not standing up for me, or helping me learn the material. I withdrew into myself, not really having anybody to connect with and grew accustomed to being alone.

This lasted for a long time.

When I was 8, I started my transition back home to my mom, who had through extensive recovery and other classes in those four years.

She helped me with some of my issues, such as getting me properly medicated for my ADHD, which allowed me to not be so overstimulated by everything, along with teaching me how to do my coping mechanisms without people noticing so much

I quickly grew to love reading, having barely read outside of school, the first step in my writing career, and I had no clue.

Things got a little easier. I got better with my school work, even though math is hard for me, so that was good.

Most of the kids still didn't like me, even with the cool treats I brought for my birthdays and some holidays. I would always be the weird girl in their eyes.

Luckily, my mom got me to do activities outside of school.

I played sports for 3rd through 5th grade. I hated soccer, calling it a walking sport instead of a running sport to my coach, and wasn't a fan of softball, I loved basketball, being the girl who wrestled with other players to retrieve the ball for my team.

I joined Girl Scouts, where I ended up meeting one of my best friends, who I didn't even like until our leader paired us together one time, not that I remember.

My troop did lots of fun activities and went on cool trips over my ten years of being a scout, such as Yellowstone and Yosemite. two different trips

Sixth grade was one of my worst years, taking a toll on my already low self-esteem. I had no friends and the material didn't stick. It all became too much to handle

After that, I was homeschooled, joining a program that had on site schooling two days a week. There, no one knew about my past and accepted me for who I was in the moment.

It was refreshing and relieving, and I made some friends, although I had to change programs when I entered 9th grade. But I made friends in the other homeschooling program too.

I also started hip hop and tap dance around this time, which I loved and was good at, doing this and Girl Scouts through high school, where I made a few friends and discovered my love for writing.

The summer after graduation was hard for me.

In the life transition, the loneliness crept back to the forefront, not having many people to talk to, making me a bit depressed, which sucked because I did cool things, like go white water rafting with my troop and seeing the solar eclipse in Oregon.

The feeling subsided once I started college, going to new classes, learning new things, and meeting new people, but it lurked in the background.

Then the lockdown happened.

I was cut off from my normal routine, unable to celebrate my 21st birthday at a bar, which was a bummer, being deprived from that rite of passage. I tried online classes, but it didn't work for me, so I was just stuck at home.

However, I did start online dating that summer and met three great guys, one of which was my first relationship. It only lasted for a few months, but we're still best of friends.

I have learned a lot about myself in the last few months, and at the same time, am learning who I am.

It's been hard.

A lot of what I thought of myself isn't what it appeared, such as my self-esteem. I used to think it had recovered from the years of hardship, but I had essentially ignored how I truly felt about myself without realizing it until recently.

So, I decided to work on myself, learning how to be okay with me and to be more open with my thoughts and feelings, which is difficult for me, along with trying to take certain things less personally and not assuming something is true.

Some days are better than others, but I'm figuring out that's okay too.

I've joined several support groups on Facebook, even finding someone to talk with, besides my therapist, which both are helping me.

I'm also pushing myself to make more friends, my biggest mistake when I started dating being not having that type of support system, utilizing a few apps and online groups to make it easier, especially these days.

It's been exciting chatting with new people, learning about them, and meeting them in a few cases. It doesn't always click, but I only need a few great friends.

I have been slowly working on my dream to become a freelance book editor, as well as continuing to write on Vocal to become a better writer.

I know this seems to be a lot, and sometimes it is, but I'm taking things one day at a time, putting one foot in front of the other.

So, that's the story of me, and thank you for reading.