Who Am I?

Being asked who I am is such a broad question. Asking who my family is also because I could go on and on and write about my life and what my family and I have been through. But if you were to ask me what I like about myself or something then I won’t be able to answer that. If I am asked what my strengths are, I couldn’t tell you honestly. I hate more than anything to talk about myself; it always makes me uncomfortable. My family is from a big fat mess that has been through absolute crap. My mother is the strongest woman I have ever met in my entire life. When my mom was a senior and eighteen years old I was born. A month exactly after my mom’s eighteenth birthday. My dad was a highschool dropout by the time exams of freshman year hit, and he was nineteen when he was blessed with a daughter. I was my dad's pride and joy, other than his 2004 Mustang GT. That car and me were all he needed to be happy. My parents split up when I was five years old. I witnessed things before the age of six that most adults still have not seen. When I was eight years old, thirteen days before my ninth birthday, my dad committed suicide. He was in jail because of my step mom. She told the police things and he was put in for a night. Did you know the first night in jail is the worst because it makes you suicidal? Well I didn’t until I was twelve years old when I found out the truth on how my dad died. The guards did not take my dads shoe laces when he went in the jail cell that night like you are supposed to so no prisoner hurts himself for another person. My mom got the call when I was getting ready for school that morning. She came out of her room crying and I remember asking if she was okay. If someone had passed away and to this day I still have never seen my moms face turn white like a sheet like it was that day. She told me no, that everything was okay and so was everyone else. It was a Thursday, September 9 of 2009. When I came home from school I was told by my mother, my step dad, my grandparents. They were all crying and I did not understand.

I am going to shift it to a kind of love story so we don’t cry more. My seventh grade year I met a boy and lord let me tell you, he was the most annoying person I had ever met in my entire freaking life. As the years went on he got a little less annoying. Our freshman year we became very close and I realized he had been a constant in my life unlike so many others that had just up and left. We started dating on February eleventh of 2016. In highschool you don’t think of couples actually going through a lot and making it. We literally went through so much in the two years we dated. We broke up to a stupid choice I made and I had never been so angry about something in my life. Within the eight months of us breaking up I went through a lot. I was cheated on and made to feel worthless and it was just an all around bad time. He and I have been dating for a little over two months after getting back together after so much time apart. Lately I have been happy for the first time in a long time. I am starting to have self confidence and starting to like the way that I look again.

I don’t want this to be about how I am wanting a pity party because I don’t. I am telling it because the things that I have gone through make me who I am today. I don’t see myself as strong but writing this I realize I have been through a lot and I am still here. My mom always says that I have been through more than most adults and how I have survived it all. I thought that writing this would be hard and then I couldn’t stop. Writing has always been a way to get out the way I feel and write down the things I have been through before. My grandma always wanted me to be a writer but I don’t think I am the best on everything.