So I guess you probably want to know a little bit more about me….hmm where to start? I guess back at the beginning is probably the best. My childhood is something I don’t generally speak about, more because I want to let sleeping dogs lie, but also because I don’t want pity or sympathy from someone because of the way I was raised or my upbringing. I do feel there were several things in my childhood that have really contributed to who I am today so I’m going to share my story the best I can while remaining in my comfort zone. To keep you from getting too depressed or falling asleep, this will have to be a two part history lesson.
I was born almost 30 years ago (gasp! I’m getting OLD!) in Michigan where I spent several years living with my parents. We had a nice house in the country and I vividly remember our neighbor’s farm with cows. I loved standing at the fence at the edge of our yards and feeding the cows grass through the fence. The cows loved this too because they always came over when I was out! J
After a couple years of being an only child, my brother came into the world. My dad was a truck driver and would be gone during the week, coming home on weekends with his “big truck”. I can remember days of “helping” him fix his truck while my brother buried his tools in the yard, climbing on the truck and helping him pack and load up the truck to start off another long week on the road. This left my mom to take on the role of a stay at home mom, which to me is one of the toughest jobs in the world. My parents had very different parenting styles. My mom was more of a “time out” parent while my dad had more of a “physical” discipline philosophy. He had high standards and expected them to be met without exception.
I started school at our local elementary school and loved it. I loved learning and still do to this day. My teacher noticed that I never seemed to use the restroom at school which led to some appointments with our family doctor that ultimately lead to learning I was born with a deformed kidney. I spent a good deal of time in hospitals and missed the first two weeks of first grade because I was in the hospital. I was crushed to be missing school. I loved the structure school provided and the escape from things happening in my home life.
Not long after my parents remodeled my childhood home, when I was in 3rd grade, my parents separated and ultimately got divorced. I vividly remember the night my parents had that blow out fight and I hid in my parent’s closet to avoid it. As hard as that was to accept at the time, looking back, even in my teen years, I knew it was the best choice for our family. That’s when the major turmoil came about in our family. There were periods of time I didn’t speak to my father which broke my heart because I was really a daddy’s girl followed by times of not speaking to my mom. I adored my parents and it broke my heart that we didn’t speak. I spent countless hours in therapy talking about thoughts and feelings and learning that I wasn’t the problem – the situation was the problem and I had no control over that at all.
Stay tuned to hear what the second half of my life has in store.