Feeling free

I think one of the most amazing feelings in the world is when you feel free. Free from judgement, free from comments and free from guilt. On this site I feel free. Free to write what ever it is I am feeling at the time and just let go of burdens. Right now in this very moment I am feeling wonderful. I get to spend every waking moment with two of the most precious boys. My boys mean so much to me. They make me smile, make me laugh and at times make me want to pull me hair out. But that’s ok. I would not change anything about either one of them. They are six years apart and this was not planned but it seems to be working out. They play together, wrestle together and bond together like no other.

I could have never predicted ten years ago that my life would be like this. My first son is amazing. His dad left me when he was two years old. His dad had told me when I was three months pregnant that two weeks before I had gotten pregnant that he did meth. I had the choice to put my son up for adoption but chose not to. I had the choice to give up on life and think that I am going to be dealing with a drug baby for the rest of my life. I chose the other route. I chose to do the right thing and try to be the best mom that I could be. I look at my son as a blessing. He basically saved and changed my life for the better. I was going down a very dark path and I was drinking excessively. When I found out that I was pregnant I had stopped drinking immediately. I refused to drink and have a child. It switched on a light that now I had someone to care for and tend to and I wanted my child to be proud that I was its mom. I kept the sex of the baby a secret. I never found out until he was born. I loved not knowing. I loved it being kept a secret. It made his coming to earth so much more special. I can still hear his cry and how much tugging they did on my belly to bring him to the outside world. Its a cry that I will never forget. I sit here writing this and it brings tears to my eyes just knowing that his father left him and never came back. I have had to go through a lot with my son. He did not speak until the age of 4 and was severly delayed with his speech. He had to have an IEP at the age of two and start receiving speech services. He also has problems with Executive functions, sequencing and predicting. At the age of six was when he learned how to open a door. He has no idea what to do next in situations. If we are driving somewhere and we park he has no clue that he has to get out of the car. He just sits there and waits patiently. Every process in life has been constant instructions. He cannot do two step instructions. He has to be told to do only one instruction at a time. It gets too mumbled jumbled for him. At the age of two we found out that he has hearing loss in his left ear. He had tubes put in twice. For the first surgery it went well and then he had to have a second surgery because his first tubes had fallen out. In a couple of months he will have to have another surgery. They will be doing a skin graft from these of his head to cover the hole in his ear and then inspect the three bones behind his ear to find out if that is what is causing his hearing loss. It has been a uphill battle that me and him face on a daily basis. I am happy that things turned out the way they did. Everything happens for a reason. Everything takes place for a special unknown reason. I am blessed for my first son and I make it known that he is and will forever be my baby boy. I think moms hold a special spot int here hearts for their first child. As unruly and feisty as they may be, I think first borns have a way to tug at moms heart strings.

Now my second born, oh my second born. Where do I begin. My second son is the most joyous, loving, spontaneous child I have ever met. He warms my heart and makes me melt. He is full of personality with no learning difficulties. He is very quick to learn and is very positive. He loves to laugh and play. I look at him and feel beyond blessed that he was brought into my life. He does not have any health issues so he is just a bundle of joy. He loves his brother more than anything and loves to play with him. My youngest teaches my oldest, which is so fun to watch. They bounce off of each other and clash at the same time. It’s hilarious when they play fight. I go throughout my day just feeling blessed and thankful for my boys. I know I was given both of these beautiful souls fro a reason. I treasure this quarantine and take it as a lesson. If I was at work and just did my daily grind I would be missing out on all of their little laughs, quirky jokes, and fun times.

Filter me

It’s just a filter right?! A simple filter that a pretty popular Instagram user wanted to use. @holymariia decided that she would try to use a vitiligo filter on one of her pictures. She currently has 981K followers and is based in Jerusalem. I found out about her by my other following @laur_elyse. I have been following her since 2018. She has vitiligo and is a makeup artist. She actually found out about @holymariia’s post and was the first to comment on the picture. Other people agreed with Lauren. I wanted to see what the hype was all about so I took a look at the picture. It was a picture of @holymariia and yes she did have a filter of vitiligo. A filter of vitiligo. Even typing this makes me cringe. Somebody would actually use a filter to make a discoloration to their skin. I found this picture highly offensive. Why would you want to add a discoloration to your skin when people who have vitiligo strive for perfect skin? Just writing about this is making my vitiligo act up! I had commented on her photo and there were numerous people who were begging her to take this photo down. I checked this morning and the photo was still up. I just don’t understand the meaning of the photo. She states that she did the photo to raise awareness. What kind of awareness are you raising other than being insensitive to an auto-immune condition?! I am utterly appalled by this photo and how she would think that it would be cute. I try my best to cover every part of my vitiligo. Currently my eyebrows and eyelashes are changing to a super white color. I make sure to pluck every one of these out. I do my best to use makeup on my face where the vitiligo is prominent. What’s the big deal you ask? It comes down to feeling comfortable in your on skin. It comes down tot he fact hat vitiligo is not accepted by many people. Yes, Whinnie Harlow has brought vitiligo to the fashion scene and has shown that she can model with it but how about the reality of it. Most people are not a model and most people who have vitiligo have other health issues as well. I guess I am just upset that a filter would be used that is an auto-immune condition that has no cure. I know writing on her will not change anything but I was really struck but the insensitivity of a media influencer.

No choice

There is so much pressure to be beautiful. To be beautiful means to have beautiful skin. To look flawless. To look healthy. What if you were covered in scars? What if you had chicken skin on your arm? What if you always felt the need to cover up and camouflage your body? When you look better covered up than exposed…shouldn’t it be the other way around? What if you were so ashamed of how your body looked you wore sweaters in the summer time? Picture a hot sunny day, the sun rays are beating down on you and you had to keep yourself covered. You looked around and saw so many girls in tank tops or halter tops. It saddened me. It made me depressed. I wanted to go sleeveless, I wanted to show off my skin, I wanted to be cool and not sweating like a stuffed pig. But no. The stares would be unbearable. The looks of disgust, the frowns were something I could not handle. I stayed covered up. Covered in long sleeves. Long hot sleeves. Hiding myself from snarls, stares and disgust. I keep my arm protected. I took pictures on my right side never on my left. I hid my arm from everybody and everything. Not by choice. Because I had to!

True Colors

Oh, I don’t even know where to begin with this one. Where to begin? It’s like I have a million and one words to write but cannot even begin. It’s frustrating and makes me infuriated at the same time. So let’s take it back about six years ago. A new person started working at my work. Let’s name her Beth. She kind of stayed to herself. She never really spoke to me. I would approach her and talk to her. We would see each other on a daily basis at work so I would make an effort to go and spend time with her.

Years would go by and we started hanging out at my house. She would come over and hang out with my family. We would have a girls day where we would go shopping and get our nails done. We opened up to one another about our past relationships. She was single and I am married so she would share her stories and I would share mine.

I really felt a bond with her. Beth would go and buy me little gifts here and there for my birthday and Christmas. I would buy her birthday gifts. I honestly thought she was a good friend to me. I have always wanted that kind of friendship. She was my go to girl. She was always there when I needed to talk or just to hang out.

I then noticed a shift. It was very slight but I did notice. I noticed it was me coming to see her more. It was me more going out of my way to do things for her. I noticed that I was becoming a second priority. Another girl at my work would go and buy her lunch like everyday and I noticed that they became closer. It hurt but I just brushed it off. I know my worth in any relationship. It came to a point where she started talking more about this other girl and how she would buy her things. Well, I am not that fortunate to constantly be spending money on a friend when I have a family to raise. Beth then started putting so much attention on her daughter and her daughter treated her like utter crap. Beth would go above and beyond for daughter and her daughter was so ungrateful. Beth spent hours making her a graduation present and her daughter said “Thanks” and then shoved it into her closet. Her daughter really used her. Beth just kept doing more and more things for her daughter and every time the daughter would be so ungrateful. It brought Beth to tears. She would break down and cry to me about everything. I was always there for her. Beth’s aunt had passed away and I did everything in my power to be there for her. I comforted her when she would have her breakdowns. I would constantly check on her. I offered to help her with anything that she needed. Beth’s grandma then passed away. This hit Beth so hard. She distanced herself from everybody. She stopped taking care of herself. She would blow me off numerous times when I tried to be there for her. I didn’t know what to do or how to be there for her. I gave her some space. When she did come around she placed the blame on me. I had no words. All I knew was that I was trying my best to be a good friend to her.

Beth’s birthday just passed. I went and got a really cute gift and made her feel special. I had some people sing to her. I tried my best to make her feel great on her day. Her daughter comes to see her at work and brings her food. Beth gets overly excited, almost starts crying and posts everything about her daughter on Snapchat. Not one single mention of me. Not one single mention of what I did for her. I asked Beth if she would want to come over and celebrate her birthday at my house. She didn’t want to come over unless my husband had a single friend come over. I begged her and begged her. She didn’t want to come over and see me. She wanted to see him. As I am writing this, I want to hit myself upside the head and say DUH!! All the times I had to beg for her to come over and hang out with me. The times when she would go see other people first and if there was time left then she could come see me. The fact that she never invited me inside her house. The fact that I was never to go hang out at her house. Why didn’t I see those as signs? I guess you really have to look back at situations to realize how people are.

So, fast forward years later. Beth gets hurt at work. I had been overwhelmed with a ton of work and never even had a break from my workspace. I finally had the chance to go and see her. Come to find out she had been absent for two days. I immediately texted Beth to find out if she was ok. Four hours had passed and I had not heard a word. I then went to her supervisor to find out what had happened. Her supervisor had let me see text messages between them about what had happened to Beth. I then had several employees coming up to me telling me things about Beth that I had no idea. It hit me like a semi-truck. I woke up. I was done. I was done being a last priority. I was done being treated like this. How could other people know what’s going on when her when own good friend has no idea? She then finally texts me four hours later to let me know what had happened. I let her know that I had already heard from her supervisor. No more conversation. No more text messages. Two days later I get a text that says “Hope all is good. Have a good day and take care.” I responded with “Thanks you too.” I then go onto snapchat the next day to see a post written by Beth that says “I thought you were a good friend to me. Theres a reason why I never wanted to open up again because I knew I would get hurt.” It was posted with a sad crying face. At this point I am lost for words. Now I am the bad friend. I am the bad person. I am the reason why she never opened up. See, now with me, I am not the one to just be quiet. I went straight to Instagram and wrote her a huge message about exactly how I felt. I pointed out things she was doing. I pointed out how I felt like I was second priority. She responds with “I feel the best thing is for you not to have someone like me in your life. Obviously, I wasn’t a good friend to you. Obviously there are better people in your life that have and will be there for you more than I ever did. You deserve better than me in your life.” In other words she no longer wants to be my friend. Just like that!! Poof!! She no longer wants to be my friend because I told her how I felt. I told her what she was doing to me. BAM!!! She wants nothing to do with me. I had no words. I didn’t even respond. I left it alone. I went and checked my social media and she did not delete herself. Two weeks went by and she was still on my social media. I went ahead and texted her about why she would still want to be on my social media. She says sorry and that she will remove herself and that would be my birthday gift. I wish I could make this nonsense up. I once again did not engage. That was my birthday gift. Finalizing our friendship that she ended. How are you supposed to feel after that? How are you supposed to heal after that? I guess right now I am frustrated, angry, hurt and confused. I am at a total loss of words. I just don’t understand why people act the way they do? If I am a bad person let me know. If I hurt you in anyway, let me know. Just let me know. Friendships can always be repaired, right? Not this one. I am no longer going to allow myself to be hurt. I am no longer going to allow myself to be used.

Happy Birthday!

Looking back to how I was raised a word that continually jumps out is “forced”. Forced smiles, forced acting good, forced acting like I want to be around these people, and forced interactions. Forced to behave or else. Forced to go give hugs and kisses to people I didn’t know. Forced to be on my best behavior of sitting quietly. I remember only being with my extended family only on holidays. I laugh now about it, but in all reality, they really were my “Holiday Family.”

Not family that would be there for you when times got tough. Not family that would want to involved in your life. Not family that actually cared about your well-being. No, just family you saw in the holidays where you had to fake everything.

Fast forward years later to my birthday. Let me just say that I hate social media. Its an opportunity for fake relationships and fake interactions. My lovely mom goes ahead and makes a facebook post about my birthday. A cousin of mine then decides to write “Tell her I said Happy Birthday.” My mom goes on to speak about how I have been feeling lately. My cousin then wants more information. This triggered me so badly I felt compelled to get onto my moms facebook page to respond. I am finding that the older I get, the less of a filter I have. I did my best to maintain composure but I did give her a piece of my mind. What could have possibly triggered me, you ask. Well, I am sorry but I have a facebook. My cousin knows that I have a Facebook page. She also has Facebook messenger and a phone. If she REALLY cared about how I was doing, why wouldn’t she just friend me on Facebook? Why wouldn’t she have asked for my phone number? No instead she immediately calls my mom to discuss what I had written. I just do not have words for how I feel right now.

I have tried numerous times to reach out to my cousins to build some kind of relationship. I have asked to hang out over the weekends, to go shopping, and for them to come hang out at my house. They either never responded or just gave excuses.

I always have to question my reaction in situations such as these because I know that I get triggered easily. I guess at first I felt angry. I felt angry because I do not understand why somebody would do that.

I have to say for the remainder of the day I was in a very bad mood. According to my mom, my cousin is supposed to call me. I doubt this will ever happen. If if they did call, I wouldn’t have much to say. I mean, what could I say. Everything that I would want to say would be bitter and negative. I refuse to live my life feeling bitter. Today I choose to put it on “let go.” Just let it go and continue loving those around me that truely love and care for me. Happy Birthday to me!!

Darkness

He knew what he was doing. He knew how the night was going to take place. Every step strategically planned out. Planned out to his advantage. Planned out HIS way. He gets her excited for a party. A party where they have to pick out costumes together. They wanted to look their best. They wanted to impress everybody. They show up to the party looking great. Everybody is commenting on their costumes. They are laughing, enjoying the moment. Enjoying the sights and sounds. They were just friends. Friends that were supposed to have trust in one another. Friends that were supposed to depend on one another for security and comfort. They had known each other for a couple if years now. A very great friendship where secrets were exchanged and great memories were made with one a other. The night is going great. More people are showing up. The music is playing. People are dancing having a great time. He goes and offers her a drink and she declines. He waits a little longer and she accepts. Shes too young for this. Shes too young to be having alcohol. She drinks it and does not like the taste. He encourages her to drink more. She declines amd goes to dance. He moves in close to her. She’s not used to him. She’s not used to this other person he has become. She pushes him away. He smiles and laughs. Oh that smile! That smile that could light up a room. He tries again to get her to drink. This time the drink was something different. It smelled sweet but bitter. She likes it. It makes her feel powerful, free, carefree. She asks for another one. He refuses. But soon gives in and gives her another. She enjoys it. She starts dancing. Dancing wildly. Throwing her hands up the air, shaking and moving her body in ways she never thought she could. He was enjoying her. He was enjoying her carelessness. He watches over her and she notices. She sees how his eyes move up and down her body. Undressing her mildly but something inside her drives to move more. To drink more. She likes the attention. She craves for his attention. Its getting late and the party is coming to an end. He is begging to stay the night. She knows her parents won’t allow it. But they are just friends and her parents trusted him. Her parents give in and allowed him stay. She is surprised they said yes and unexpectedly happy about their decision. She decides to just keep her clothes on and crawls into bed. Her world is spinning. She cannot focus. She cannot see straight. Her head is hurting. Suddenly everything goes black.

She is awoken by the sound of her mom making coffee. She strains to open her eyes. Everything hurts. Her legs hurt, her breasts hurt and even down there is very sore. She looks down at her clothes. She is in a different set of clothes. Her panties are different. What happened? Why was she in completely different clothes? Where did he go? She heard a noise in the bathroom. It was him. She covered herself with the blanket. He walks into the room and smiles at her. She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know how to feel. Her body goes numb. What happened? Why was she in different clothes?  Her mom comes into the room and asks how everything is. She lies and says fine. She really just wants to run into her moms arms and just cry. She wants the tears to fall. Something happened last night. Something happened that she is responsible for. She wants to tell her mom. She can’t get the words out. She can’t speak.  She stays quiet. She doesn’t say anything.

Days later she decides to meet up with him. She wants to talk about that night. She has questions that need to be answered. She sees him and he is standoffish. He slowly approaches her. She blurts out “What happened that night?” She can’t help it. Its eating her up inside. She knows something happened. “You couldn’t keep your hands off of me.” She laughs and replies “Yea right.” “It’s true. You wanted me, so I gave you me.” A million thoughts rush through her mind. Confused. Anger. Frustration. Just a whrilwind of emotions overloading her mind. “Well do you want the details?” He asked. “NO!” she yells. She didn’t want to know what had happened. She turned and left. She left him there puzzled. In the following weeks flashblacks would come to her. Pictures. Very vivid pictures of what had happened that night. Pictures that she would never be able to erase. Smells that she could never forget.

It wasn’t that bad though. She had wanted it, right?

Sue

I feel like the ages of 14-17 are the most impressionable moments in a childs life. We are learning about our bodies, we are learning about life and most of all we are experiencing changes that we have never felt before.

I had the opportunity to have met a guy when I was 15. He was two years older than I was. It was an instant attraction and I thought I would stay with him for a long time. We shared some great memories together and he showed me a lot about life. I had experienced things with him that I had NEVER experienced. I trusted him because I felt like he protected me. I had wanted to learn more about life and experience life more so I felt like I always wanted to be around him. One particular day would change my life so drastically, it would result in the many issues I have today.

It was a sunny Saturday and him and I were bored just hanging out at the house. He suggested that we go and see a movie. I thought it was a cool idea so I told him to go ask his mom for the newspaper so we could what was playing. He searched all around the house but could not find a newspaper. I told him to just go ask his mom for the newspaper. He had went to her door, knocked on it a couple of times but she didn’t answer. She was playing her rock and roll music extremely loud. I had found a newspaper by the couch and let him know. He then went to her door again to let her know that we were going to the movies.  He said that he heard her say ok. I felt like something was not right. She had been in her room all morning and I had not heard her. My sixth sense had told me something was wrong. I had told him to go talk to her in person. He had went to her door and knocked several times. Her door was locked so he used the key that was above the door sill to open the door. He walked in and saw his mom in bed. He had walked up to her and she didn’t move. He immediately ran back to me with his face extremely pale looking like he was about to pass out. I had asked him what wrong and he said “shes dead”. My heart almost stopped and my stomach felt sick. I knew I had to be strong for him. I had walked into the bedroom and my nose was engulfed with the smell of death. If you have ever smelled death then you know exactly what I am talking about. Its a strong, sour smell that you can never “unsmell”. I had walked over to her and she was laying in her bed not moving. Her body was lifeless. Her chest was not moving up and down. There was no response from her. My boyfriend took his hand shaking and put it to her neck. He immediately took his hand back. He said, “She’s cold.”

I had told him to immediately call 911. His hands were shaking and he could barely breathe. I helped him call down. Within an hour the ambulance and coroner were there to take her away. I had went back into the bedroom with him after they had removed her and noticed a trail of blood on the ground. I showed it to him and he had no idea what that was.

We had to wait on the coroner’s report to find out what had happened. Minutes felt like hours and hours felt like days. I had went home to be with my family. My family in a way didn’t know how to react. They consoled me but yet made me felt like it was nothing big. I was extremely hurt and saddened by how my family reacted. My boyfriend had just lost his mom. His MOM! I was upset so I had just went to my room. I was only 15. I had no idea what emotions I was supposed to feel or not feel. I felt lost, confused, angry and hurt all at once. I didn’t get much sleep that night. I tossed and turned for most of the night. I woke up in the morning thinking that maybe it had all just been a bad dream. I tried to page my boyfriend on his pager several times but he never responded.

A week had passed and he had not called me or paged me. I tried to understand what was going on. I was going through emotions as well. I had witnessed this with him. I felt like he was just pushing me away. I felt like since I was a part of it I would just invoke that horrible day all over for him.

I finally received a call from him and he had asked if I could come over. I had my mom drop me off at his house and he had showed me the obituary. It was determined that her esophagus had exploded. The doctors to did not know why or how but she ended up bleedung to death internally. He was very short with me. He didn’t talk much. He just looked lost. I tried my best to be there for him but I was not what he needed. I ended up going to the funeral and he had ignored me the entire time. I had left without saying good bye. I had left being left with a million and one thoughts to deal with all on my own. I was just a teenager with no real life experiences and felt all alone. I felt like he didn’t really care about me. I had called him about two weeks later and told him that I wanted to break up with him. He said “ok” and hung up on me. I was so confused at this point. How could he just be done with me? How could he not fight for me? How could he just give up on us so easily? I had went over to his house and did not say a word to him. I went into his bedroom and gathered my things. I walked by him and he would not look at me. As I walked out the front door I told him goodbye. He did not respond.

To this day I feel like I have issues of having an overly exaggerated feeling of being pushed away. I feel like if I have a realtionship whether it be a friend, family member or my husband, and they start to either ignore me or avoid me, I go into an instant removal mode. I want to remove myself from them, I want to remove my attachment to them and I want to remove all my emotions I feel about them. I want to save myself from my feelings of getting hurt. I know this life experience has impacted my life drastically and I am glad that I can now have the courage to write about it. I have only told a couple people about this experience. I am hoping I can emotionally heal from this by sharing this.

Beauty Marks

IMG_20180712_165623_241“Mama, why do I have spots on my body?” That is a question I had always asked my mom. Her response never changed, “They are your beauty marks.” Even though she would tell me this, I never felt beautiful. I wanted to be beautiful. I wanted to fit in. I wanted normal skin. Beautiful flawless skin. Skin without scars, without spots. Why did this happen to me? Why did I get so unlucky? These were questions I had asked myself on a daily basis. I would wake up in the morning, look into the mirror and then look away. Finally after graduating highschool, I decided that I would not let my spots get the best of me. I decided to do some research. I made an appointment with a dermatologist and found out I had Vitiligo. That’s my disease. That’s why I am so different. I now had two options. I could either let this disease get the best of me or I could learn to embrace it. It wasn’t until I had went to a gas station and saw the most beautiful woman covered in spots. Covered in spots and showing them off. Not ashamed. Not embarrassed. I thought to myself, hey she is like me, she is spotted. I felt the need to talk to her. I had to approach her. I needed to hear her story. I had no idea how I was going to approach her but I did. I slowly asked, “Do you have Vitiligo?” I think I startled her. She dropped her coffee all on the ground. I felt so embarrassed. Why did I approach her? Why did I ask her if I already knew the answer? “Oh, you mean my beauty marks?” She replied. My heart skipped a beat and my mouth dropped wide open. I started to tear up and studdered, “bbbeeaauuttyy mmaarrkkss?” “Yes, these are my beauty marks. Only people who are unique and special are blessed with these beauty marks like ours.” I wanted to wrap my arms around this lady and give her the biggest hug possible. I stood there and stared at her. I had so many questions to ask her. She cleaned up her coffee and gave me a huge smile. She seemed like she was in a hurry. I didn’t want her to leave. I wanted to talk to her. She started to walk away. I followed her. She got to the counter to pay for her coffee. She probably thought I was a weirdo for following her but I needed to talk to her.  She turned as she was leaving and said “Remember, don’t ever think that you are not beautiful and no matter what anybody says, just know that there’s not that many people out there who can be like us.” It made me feel so special after hearing those kind words. I watched her walk away. I was left speechless and shocked. This woman had spots, more spots than I had but she embraced them. She showed them off. I left that gas station that day feeling better than I have in my whole entire life. That lady changed my life forever.

My household

I grew up in a household with both of my parents working. My dad worked his tail off for many years. He worked nights and the swingshift position. He was injured twice on the job. His first injury was when he broke his back and was paralyzed. The doctors told my mom that he would have a 25% chance to ever walk again even with surgery. My mom being young, depending on my dads income and having two young children, freaked out.  He opted for the surgery and pulled through. He had about a 6 month recovery time from that accident. My mom stood by his side the entire time. He is doing better but is still in a ton of pain. He is able to walk and function on his own. A couple of years after the surgery he had gotten arthritis in the spot where they had cut him. There’s not much that they can do for something like that so my dad just maintains. He was recently hit by an off duty police officer that had been out drinking and playing golf. He suffered a broken shoulder because of that “accident”. He had to have two separate surgeries to fix the torn muscles and ligaments. He also got trigger finger in three fings because of the shoulder surgery. He is in a ton of pain everyday because of these life changing events. He now drinks heavily to kill the pain. I do not blame my dad for drinking. It just kills me to see him killing himself. My mom has been so strong and has been with my dad every step of the way. She has tried her best to maintain the household and be a loving wife. My dad is miserable at times and feels like he is very limited. I have never met a stronger man than my dad. He is headstrong and so determined. I understand more about why I am the way I am from looking at my parents. My mom tries to be the best mom and wife she knows how to be. She continues to try to stay supportive of my life decisions despite them being outrageous and odd. She is always there for me when I need emotional support. My dad even though he is in pain loves to help me out with things I need done at my house. He never complains about helping me and is the most reliable person I have ever met. My dad is always worried aboutmy wellbeing and how my family is doing. he is very considerate and giving. I  As the years go by you start to realize who you are as a person by looking at who your parents are. I love my parents dearly and it is tough seeing them get older. I am having a hard time watching them slow down, and want to take more time and them needing to take naps. Having parents who have been so involved in every aspect of your life makes it hard to see them getting older. My parents have played such a huge role in why I am the person I am today. When I got burned of the age of 3 years old. My mom and dads life basically stopped. I became their main priority and number one concern. My mom made everything so nice for me. She was very tender and considerate of my needs. She made sure that even though I had restraints that I still enjoyed my child hood. I had to wear pressure garments but I still went swimming in a little pool in our backyard. I had to wear a cover up when I went swimming but she made sure to buy me the cutest bathing suit. She took the extra steps to make sure I was comfortable. She transformed our entire living room into my mini hospital. I had to be rubbed down in lotion every night and had to have my pressure garments changed nightly. I remember how she took her time with me and always made sure to make sure I was ok. My mom was alone a lot since my dad worked so much but she made sure me and my sister were involved in things. My sister played the flute and loved being in a band. She is so talented with music. She can keep a beat like no other. In High school we would wake up at 4am to go to her band reviews. She always looked so great in her outfit and she took it very seriously. I feel like my mom tried her best to treat my sister and me equally but I know she favored me a little more. I felt it. I noticed it. My sister noticed it as well. You are never given a book on how to be a parents so you just try your best. You try to treat your children equally. You try to give them the same amount of love. I was never jealous of my sister. I never envied things that she had gotten or how much attention she got from being in a band. I enjoyed listening to her. I enjoyed being around her when she was playing her flute. My parents were amazing to my sister and me. Until this day my mom still asks me if she was a good mom. She feels like she didn’t do enough. I feel like she went above and beyond and is an amazing mom. I couldn’t have asked for a better care giver, provider and supporter.  Life can throw you all kinds of curve balls and unexpected events. You just try to make the best of them but having supportive parents seemed to make life a little more easier.

Suddenly you realize

So I am at work minding my own business when a co worker calls me over to talk to me. I do not think anything of it. She tells me that she bought me lunch. I was shocked. See this co worker stays to herself and has trust issues. She has taken a liking to me and I just go with the flow. I have never had a real friend in my life. I have had friends come and go in my life but never one that truely understands me, gets me or knows the real me. I have a ton of trust issues so I build a wall that people must break through to get to know me. I have other co wokers who I talk to and I get along with. I have this one who calls me “Her only friend.” She confides in me things about her marriage, her relationships and her past. I would never tell anybody the things that she tells me. I keep what she says to me safe and to myself. When we are together at work we have a blast together. We laugh, we kid around.  Friendships are weird and super hard to find. I watch television shows about groups of people hanging out and I always wonder is that real? Does that ever really happen in real life? I honestly can say that I have NEVER EVER met a female thats like me. That thinks like me, understands things like I do or beleive in the things that I belive in. I have always wanted to though. I have always dreamt of what it would be like to have a true friend and friendship with another female. To spend weekends together with, to go places with and do things things with. I have found that females put on fronts. Some act religious and are lost. Others act righteous but cannot think striaght. Some want to seem intelligent but cannot tie their own shoes. It just gets frustrating. Then suddenly I realize that there cannot be another person out like me. I am me and thats all I can be, I am ok with that.