THE JOURNEY BACK TO ME

I have been told over the years how amazing I am. I am not sure I would call myself amazing, but I would call myself a survivor. We all have a past, we have all made choices, and we all have to decide how we react and respond to those. Here is my story.

I grew up very modestly with very loving parents. There was always music playing, people laughing and lots of love in the house. Unfortunately, that life fell apart, and I never understood why. As time progressed, I struggled with weight, anxiety, panic attacks, and overall self-perception.

Over the next few years, we had some rough patches; money was sparse, and my mom worked multiple jobs to provide. While my mom worked hard, she could not afford a babysitter for my brother and me. I was often left to watch my younger brother, which often led to numerous CPS visits. My mom continued with her life and met a man who she eventually married. He was well off, and money was not a factor in our lives. It was incredible to have things that I never had before. It was nice to go on trips and see my mom happy. Eventually, life took a turn for the worst as he started to focus his attention on me. I was around the age of 11 when he began making comments about my friends that were boys, and he turned innocence into something dirty. He started coming into my room at night and sitting at the edge of the bed. At first, I didn't think anything of it, I talked to my mom, and she said he just cared and was trying to be a part of our lives. As time passed, he would sit closer and closer, and then he would give a hug or kiss on the head. I started to pretend I was sleeping when he came in at night; I can still remember feeling the pressure of his body close to mine, his hand on my chest, and his breath on my face. I never said anything, I didn't know how to handle the situation, and I did not want my mom to be mad at me or see her sad. We eventually moved, leaving those I was closest too and trusted.

While we were in a new city and a new house, the pattern of behavior did not stop. I remember at the new home, I witnessed a situation where he was starting to touch my brother inappropriately, my brother was much younger, but I was not going to let my brother go through what I did and told my mom. She left him immediately.

Time went on, and so did life. I was pretty insecure but did not realize it at the time. I made many poor decisions and was naïve and vulnerable (not that I would have ever admitted it back then). I had a lot of good relationships. Still, I also found myself in situations with men that I didn't know how to handle. I had many men who forced themselves on me, some I believed were friends, and one was one of my bosses. I eventually quit and started a new job. I didn't have a good grasp on my life, emotions, or even right or wrong when it came to human nature. I moved out of my house at 17, found myself living with friends, living in my car, and continuing with a string of unfortunate encounters. One situation left me wondering if I was even going to survive. Thankfully, I did.

It's at this point in my life where I needed to make some extreme changes. I found solace in writing, I learned I could touch people through writing, I could understand myself through writing, and I could be free. I started taking journalism classes and met someone who told me how fantastic my writing was. She encouraged me to volunteer in a camp for troubled people. When I started volunteering, I learned there were people who had it worse than me. I was heartbroken at their stories and wanted to help all of them. I began throwing myself into their lives and realizing I couldn't help them and I was becoming more depressed.

I knew change was needed, and I knew the difference had to start with me. Whether ego or pride, I was going to prove everyone wrong who believed I was lost and would not amount to much. I went into the military and began my journey into adulthood.

Part II - Marriage, Divorce, Kids