I'm not gonna sit here and say like every other obnoxious drama queen "OMG. I hate drama." Because let's be real here...as much as drama annoys the shit out of me, we've all got it. Don't say you hate it; it's your life. So, chill.
"OMG. I HATE DRAMA."
Here's my life in a convenient easy-to-read, but possibly relatively long, paragraph-like statement:
My mama was a free-to-be-you-and-me hippie flake from South Carolina. My Daddy: a militant airplane mechanic in the United States Airforce. They were THE party couple and after a few too many drinks at a New Years party, they became the first of their friends to be a married couple with a child. Of course, my mama has done a wonderful job over the past 20 years to ensure that I do not know I was conceived out of wedlock. After giving marriage the good ole college try, my Daddy decided that a child wasn't exactly what he had signed up to get out of life and mama decided she was a real adult now. Thus truly began EVERYTHING. Mama married a well to do man who raised me as his own; we call him Dad. ("Daddy" is my biological father, and "Dad" is my step-dad, you'll catch on fast enough.) While Daddy was covorting around with women and alcohol, Mama and Dad got married and swooped me off to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. My brother, Conor, was born there when I was 5. I wanted to named him Batman, but my parents agreed that this was not appropriate, so Conor would have to do. Eventually, we moved to Asheville, North Carolina, where the rest of my childhood took place. Daddy decided he would give a knock at being a parent again and took me with him on vacation where I wound up with stitches on my toes from a crab while he and his buddies went "drunk night crab hunting." Mama still doesn't know about this. His attempt at parenthood lasted a total of 2 years until I was 8. Until I was 12, it was just me, Mama, Dad and Conor. Then Daddy took another crack at parenthood. This lasted another 2 years until I was 14. He reappeared about 9 months later to give me my Pop-pop's truck as my first car; a 1991 Chevy S-10 king cab truck. You may be wondering how my Daddy maintained equal custody during the years of absence. That would be thanks to be beautiful Memee and Pop-pop, who stepped in to raise me while my Daddy was out "discovering." The truck was an eye sore, but Daddy fixed it up, gave it a good paint job, and it lasted all my 4 years of high school and and 2 years in college before I finally, just recently, in the process of, sold it. High school...was not my forte. My Mama and Dad were very addiment and strict parents. I was raised in a Southern Baptist home, where you didn't say the word "butt" outloud. The town was tight knit, and word somehow stayed with me alone, that I was, in fact, an atheist. The whole God thing just didn't seem to fit into my plans. But I was a good daughter, and continued to go to church and keep my mouth shut. I went on trips with my youth group, turned money into the offering plate. But when I got home, I was my own peson. I didn't need God, let alone believed He was even there. The summer before my junior year in high school, I went on a mission trip to Nashville, where God completely rearanged my life. I found faith, acceptance, a calling and a purpose. I was changed from then on out. I confessed everything to my home church; some accepted it and moved on, others resented me for lying and "tainting" the congregation. But for the most part, I was accepted and welcomed. I was dating a guy named Aubrey for quite some time, and who was my first true boyfriend. Aubrey...to say the least....was really fucked in the head. And while I dated him, a boy who I had grown up with in church, who was 2 years above me, was trying desperately to win my heart. His name was Levi. Levi was a mature, christian boy who had been my accountability since I had become a Christian. He was dating a girl name Adrianne for 3 years, and when he broke up with her, I was his best friend, and he went wild. Aubrey broke up with me in September of my junior year. 2 weeks before my birthday. 3 days after my birthday, my Mama, was diagnosed with MS and a brain tumor, as well as a stroke condition. My Daddy ran off a week later for 6 months. I was devastated...for months. I lost 35 lbs, that I couldn't stand to lose. Levi tried relentlessly to win me over, but I simply wasn't ready, and so he waited. Levi and I started dating in January. And secretly got engaged with a opal in May. He was perfect. He loved me. But he was always farther in our relationship than I was. More than anything, we loved God. We loved God more than we loved each other. Which was exactly what I wanted. We were both saving ourselves for marriage. But Levi was a lot more experienced than I was. I had never even taken my shirt off. We dated for a year and a half, and needless to say, I discovered a whole new world. I am still saving myself for marriage, just FYI, and I intend to stay that way. Levi began to be very controlling and I'm not exaclty the doting type. My senior year had come and gone and Levi and I took a trip with our church to Honduras to work with orphans. A side-note that I somehow forgot to mention: one of the more devastating aspects of my life. When I was 15, I was told I would not be able to have children. I had chronic ovarian cysts, and while I might could conceive, there was only a 5% survival rate for the child. I knew then that I was meant to adopt. Foreign adoption became the most important topic of my life. ANYWAYS-HONDURAS. Levi and I fell in love with 2 girls in Honduras. Jackie and Ruth. Jackie was attached to my hip and slept with me in a less than twin size top bunk for a week. Ruth began to call Levi "Papa." The director of the missions organization informed Levi and I that Jackie and Ruth were both available for adoption. All it would take is for us to go back to the states for 6 months, get the necessary paperwork, come back, live in Honduras with Jackie and Ruth for 2 years, and they would be ours. No questions asked. Levi and I had planned that after I got out of college, we would be foreign missionaries, so it seemed like a no brainer...for me. That night, Levi told me he simply couldn't do it. He didn't want to. And I was crushed. I felt as though he had taken my future and my family from me. I never forgave him. We got back to the states, and my Pop-pop died. Levi was vacant and simply wouldn't be there for me. So, after I got back from the funeral, Levi and I had signed up to chaperone a mission trip to kentucky for our middle school group. I told him "We're going to Kentucky and you're going to act like you love me, even if you don't. And when we get back, I'm leaving you." and that was that. I left for college and Levi moved on to a girl who very well could have been my twin. I've had flings here and there, discovered that I truly do love a good glass, or bottle, of wine, and that I really love to dance. I am currently a student at Appalachian State University. I have the best roommate in the world. I have an amazing group of friends, and I am officially considered a missionary after living in Thailand after my freshmen year in college. So, here I am. With crazy friends, baby mama drama, and having been raised in the South, I know how to keep my mouth shut and keep a "little face."
Thus, is the beginning of this blog. All of this craziness has to go somewhere, right? You don't like it, get over it. It's my life. It's beautiful here.
