I guess you have to start a blog by telling a little about yourself… I’m 35, I married my prince charming 9 years ago and 7 years ago I was told by one of Los Angeles’s top fertility experts that I was in a 1% category of women who couldn’t get pregnant and there was no medical explanation why… “perhaps I should focus on other things”. Today I have a 5 year old daughter, a 20 month old son, a 9 month old daughter, and I am 2 months pregnant. Abundant blessings. I am a PTA member, a Christian, an avid cook, Target lover, minivan driver, laundry stain expert, homeless volunteer director, and playgroup coordinator. I need to exercise more… er… okay, I need to exercise- period, and I am a huge fan of naps, both for the kids and myself… oh yes, and I am an ex-con.
That last one doesn’t usually fit into conversation too smoothly at PTA meetings, but it’s a huge part of me, where I’ve been, and all that I’ve overcome.
I came from an upper middle class family, I had never known anyone that had been in jail or prison – the only thing I knew about prison was from the movie, “The Shawshank Redemption”. How did I get there? Me. I made some really bad decisions trying to get a man to love me. I was 19, he was 8 years older – he was sexy and dangerous… chocolate silk pie in a suit. Yum. He was my first, and I was determined to have and keep his love. I decided to forgo my last year of college to focus on my future with silk pie.
Over the course of 3 years I became lost.
We’re not talking about a girl looking in the mirror wondering who she is, we’re talking about a girl strapped to a hospital bed in ICU for trying to kill herself and coming pretty close to being successful lost, parents disowning you lost, unable to look in the mirror lost… hard to breathe lost. If I had to point a finger I could do it at a lot of people, my dad was a workaholic and never home – certainly not emotionally invested. My mom was physically abusive until I was 13 and never once said “I’m sorry” – she took me shopping to show me how much she loved me and how sorry she was – then blamed me for being “the most expensive and demanding child”. I could point to my older sister who hated me for being alive. If I’m going to be honest with you and with me… it was my fault.There was a time at the beginning of my embezzlement spree where I made the choice to continue, I knew I was wrong, I knew I was stealing- I did it anyway.
I loved him and we didn’t fight when he had new things, I loved him and he loved me when I gave him gifts, I needed him and I needed him to need me.
At the beginning of our toxic relationship I was a force to be reckoned with, I was going to change the world by opening my own children’s theatre and teaching, through the arts, that differences are what make us special. Plan A had me opening 3 theatres by age 30 and double that by 40. Plan A had me married with many children, volunteering at their school, making creative school lunches, and meeting for coffee with other moms with our spare 15 minutes a day. Plan A came to a screeching halt while I was tied to that hospital bed. Plan A became a mere memory when I was issued the number 1005401.
To be continued…