Broken

The shower is one of the safest places you can be in some people’s opinions. You are alone and you can take time to think about life. Just sit there and think about what is going on in your life or a tough situation that you are going through, try to recuperate. Then again, the shower could also be one of the most dangerous places one could be in. You might get carried away in your thoughts and they might overcome you. You may end up doing the one thing you never thought something so bad would lead to it. I have been going through a lot. I have been thinking about a lot of things lately. To me, the shower is one of the most amazing places because no one can disturb me or influence me in any way. Where no one can mess with my head or put thoughts or their own feelings in my head. Where I can think for myself. I am alone to just think about life. Alone. One of the only places and times I actually want to be alone. That is my thinking time. My time and place to escape from everyone. My time and place to escape from reality. Where no one can hurt me. But sadly, it is the one place I am free to hurt myself. My thoughts get carried away. They lead me down this great, deep, dark hole with nothing but darkness and deep despair lying at the bottom. Bad things have been running through my mind lately. When all hope seems lost and I feel that I have nothing left, my mind gets carried away. When I feel that I have nothing left and I cannot continue on anymore. My mind goes to cutting or even suicide because that seems to be how people fix their problems now-a-days. How they heal themselves. How they take away the mental pain; they just replace it with physical pain. I cannot tell you how many times within the past 3 months I have wanted to give up. How many times I have wanted just not to go on. It would be the easiest escape right? The easiest way out of things. The way to show that you have given up. Because truthfully, I’m getting to that point. People say I’m so strong and they’re so impressed with how well I’m taking all of this. Honestly, I’m constantly breaking inside. Little by little. That strong girl that people see is just an act. On the outside, I am this strong girl that does her best not to let anything get in her way or hurt her. On the inside, I’m scared. Terrified actually. I don’t know what to do about things anymore. I don’t know how to cope with things. I don’t know why or how to continue on. It may seem that I’m strong and I’m not having problems, but if one could see how broken I am inside they would never be able to return to the light. They wouldn’t be able to escape from the pain and suffering that they would witness. I’m hurting. Constantly. I was in the shower a few minutes ago. I was sitting there with the razor in my hand. Asking myself over and over if I would do it. If I had the courage to do it. I had been thinking about that moment a lot lately. Thinking that it would save me. That it would fix all of my problems. I sat there just thinking about it. I then thought to myself and came to my senses, “This isn’t a way out. This isn’t considered courage if you actually end up doing it. It’s considered cowardly. You are stronger than this. This isn’t the answer.” And now that I think a little more about it, I would not only be hurting myself, but the ones around me. I have felt that I have no one. That everyone just abandoned me and I’m in this big world alone with no one to comfort me. No one to hold me. No one to tell me that it’s okay when I’m down. But the truth is, I do have people. They are all around me. I just don’t realize it. They are constantly rooting me on urging and begging me go move forward. To stay strong. Though I still feel like I have no one, I know that I have my Heavenly Father that loves me if no one else does. If I have no one else to go to, then I always have him. To some people this may seem like a cry for attention but that was the last thing I wanted to do and I am truthfully sorry if you see this post that way. I am only letting my feelings out. If you don’t like what I post then feel free not to read it. I know I may seem like a typical teenager just hungry for attention and will do anything for it but I am not one of those people. I always heard of those people that cut themselves or committed suicide and constantly told myself that I would never be one of those people. I know that there are people in way worse situations than I am in right now but people are different. Everyone has their own pain tolerance level and I am repeatedly knocking the maximum line. This blog helps me so much. It helps me vent and get my feelings out in ways that people will hopefully not judge me or put me down for feeling a certain way. It’s my replacement for talking to my parents so they don’t have to judge me or become concerned about me when they have other things to worry about. It is one of the few places that actually makes me feel safe.

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Aren’t Mothers Supposed To Inspire, Not Brainwash?

I cannot believe that she would do this to children so small. Their own mother. They don’t understand. They don’t know what is going on. Why do they need to be brought into all of this? Since the start of the divorce, my mom and her side of the family have always had a hard time not saying bad things about my dad. They tend to watch what they say when I’m around but when I’m gone they cannot control themselves. My four-year-old twin brothers aren’t always with me. I have done my best to protect them but sadly with the recent set-up I cannot be around them all the time. Especially with school, I am forced to leave them in the hands of others. The boys seem to be torn between obeying their father and trusting what their mother says. Whenever my father tells them something, of course the excited boys want to go and share it with my mother. When my mother hears about what the boys’ exciting news, she goes and tells them something completely different and it just breaks their hearts. On several occasions the boy’s have come home saying that they do not like the things that they do at my dads house. They love everything that goes on at my dads house and to hear something like that coming from a little boy, we know that something has been going on. This isn’t even the worst that they have come home with. Once, one of my younger brothers came back home and said, “I don’t love daddy”. This was absolutely heartbreaking. To hear your little boy tell you that they don’t love you? I can’t even begin to imagine how my dad felt when he said this. Not too long ago, my other brother came home and told my stepmother (which he is really close to) that he doesn’t love her. She was heartbroken. She noticed that he wasn’t the same anymore. He was now hitting and being mean to his younger brother which I think was his way of coping with the confusion and all of his feelings because he has never ben mean towards his younger twin. If either one was mean to the other it was the younger one bullying the older. My parents have always had to fend off this brainwashing that has been going on with my younger brothers. Sadly I had an argument with my mother the other night that I have been meaning to post about and she wasn’t very happy with some of the things that I had to say. My father just informed me that my younger brother came home this weekend saying, “Our sister broke momma’s heart”. My mother had stated in our discussion/argument that I was taking a heartbreaking approach to all of this and my brother would and could not come up with that on his own. I don’t know why my mother would bring my brothers into all of this. If she thinks that I broke her heart, she isn’t aware that she is breaking my heart. She is turning my younger siblings against me. She is hurting me in all of this. Isn’t a mother supposed to inspire and guide her children with love? Teach them good things while they are young so they can grow up to be amazing adults that can support themselves in the big world? Instead, my mother is brainwashing four-year-olds to comfort herself and make herself feel better about herself. I find this really sad. The fact that my mother is doing all of this to my brothers. I feel bad for them. That they have to go through all of this. They don’t understand what is going on around them and they are being dragged into the middle of all of it. I wish I could protect them. Tell them what to and not to listen to. Correct the lies that are being put into their minds. I will just have to correct what I can as we go along and try to teach them what is true.

I Didn’t Expect This To Happen

I’m going to take a moment away from the whole divorce situation and write a little (maybe not so little) post about something that has been bothering me a little. Okay a lot. I’m going to add some romance into the mix of this blog because the whole point of this blog was for me to be heard and to be able to get my feelings out about things. I think this is something that I need to get out so I hope you enjoy.

So it was a few weeks after I started taking a class over at the school I wanted to go to that things started to change. The class that I started to take was AJROTC and I really began to love it, it came really easily to me. It made a lot of sense and everything just clicked. This program is like military training but there are all different types of branches for this program all over the country and this branch that I joined was for the army. With the independent studies school that I am now going to I never really get to get out of the house because I always have homework or something that I need to finish for school so I never really get to get out of the house to see my friends or hang out with anyone much because my schedule is always full with work and stuff so this program gets me out of the house and I get to do something that I love and see a lot of the friends that I made at school. About the first week that I started this program I was really nervous because I had no idea what I was doing because people had started in this program (class) about 2 weeks prior and had already learned everything. I was placed next to this guy that I thought was really cute and I got to sit next to him every day. Surprisingly enough he seemed to get more and more attractive the more that I found out about him. Along a period of time, I found out that he is a martial artist like me and also that he is Hawaiian, like me! There is more that I found out but I cannot recall at the moment. I then added him on Facebook and then I looked him up on Instagram and soon enough he asked for my number! He started flirting here and there in class but of course being the innocent girl that I am, I had absolutely no clue. He started liking all of my posts on Facebook, all of my pictures on Instagram and acted really sad when my seat was moved away from his in class or in ROTC terms, moved into a different squad. When he asked for my number then I finally began to get the hint that he was interested in me. He started flirting a lot and of course, I was flirting back. I’m not going to lie, I liked him a lot! He then said, “I really hope you don’t take this the wrong way but I find you pretty damn attractive.” Then past that point we started flirting with each other more and more. It even got to the point where he would call me beautiful and say over and over that he wanted to kiss me very badly, and we weren’t even dating yet. It felt good to be wanted. To be called beautiful especially when you yourself don’t believe it. For someone to see you in the way that you thought that no one would ever see you. Being 14 and in 10th grade isn’t easy. It’s never been easy. Always being the youngest kid in my class and one of the smartest. People are always surprised at how young I am. Everyone calls me a baby because I’m so young when the truth is that I’m only about 1-2 years younger than them they treat me like I’m 8. He was even surprised when he found out my age. He thought that I was a freshman until I told him multiple times that I was in the same grade that he was in. What was kind of sad was that he is 16, in the same grade that I am in and I’m in all honors classes and he’s in Algebra 1 and all basic classes. And they call me a baby. Regardless of his grades or classes I liked him a lot. I noticed that I tend to fall for the guys that are at least 16 or older. I had a crush on my best friends brother for about 4 years and he is about two and a half years older than me. So we hung out after school for about an hour after the weekend that he started telling me that he wanted to kiss me. We were just talking and he asked me what was on my mind and I wouldn’t tell him. Then he finally kissed me. I didn’t feel anything at first, I think it was just shock but I did like it. Then he kissed me again. Then I think I made fun of him for kissing me twice and we weren’t even together and he asked me out and I said yes. I wasn’t going to say no. The comfort and the compassion felt good. So then he started to walk me home every day and we started talking a lot more and kissing a lot more and such. We would even stop on the steps behind one of the shopping centers near my house and just spend time with each other. He would hold me and I would just sit there in the moment wishing that it would never end. Since the divorce I haven’t gotten much love from my parents. I do understand because I have little brothers that are 9 years younger than me and could use all of the attention they could get but a little affection didn’t hurt anyone every once in a while. My dad and I were really close before the divorce happened and when my stepmom came into the picture all of the affection that I was getting went to her and I was kind of forgotten, or at least that’s how I felt. I have always been an affectionate and loving person and to finally be getting that felt amazing. To be loved. To be wanted. To be held. I know I am just a kid and I have been told by several people already that I don’t know what love is, but it was exactly what I needed that moment. Especially now with everything going on; me losing my mom, my dad stressed out about everything, me having just about no time for anything anymore because of school. To be able to escape from everything for a little while and not having to be with my parents because I already spend all day with them as it is… being with the only person that I wanted to be with for even the smallest amount of time, it was like heaven. He and I started calling each other on the phone every night and I think that my dad was beginning to get suspicious. In the LDS church, the youth aren’t supposed to date until we are 16. I’m 14. The thing is that I had already had a boyfriend about 6 months prior and my dad was fine with it. Although, he says that he only went along with it because my mom is fine with it. I see this “rule” more as a guideline for the youth. My grandfather was fine with my mom dating and he is one of the most strict family members that I know that are in the church. So going from being able to date to my dad reinforcing the “rule” that I’m not allowed to date until I’m 16 was a really hard transition for me. My bishop is even fine with me having a boyfriend as long as we aren’t doing anything inappropriate, which we aren’t. This is what I need, and my dad ruined it all. Being with him, it was the happiest that I felt in a long time. In all of this crap, he was the only thing that I looked forward to in the day and the only person that I felt safe with. I was stuck lying to my dad for a month while I had a relationship with him. Then someone I have no idea who, someone that knows me found out about my relationship and said to my dad, “Your daughter is hooking up with someone at school and I know everything.” Okay. First of all. Who are you to be judging me? You have made mistakes, where do you have the room to be judging me and criticizing me on the things that I do and the decisions that I make. You have no idea who I am. You have no idea what I have gone through. You have no idea what I’m going through. So how and why do you think that is acceptable for you to be judging me? Mind your own business. So when my dad found out he was blinded by pride because he wants me to be the perfect little girl that he always envisioned. He doesn’t want me to make the same mistakes that he made but the thing is, I need to make my own mistakes. He can try to prevent it as much as he wants, but its never going to work. I think this is the point in my life where I am hitting my rebellious stage and my dad is doing everything that he possibly can to prevent that. It’s either now or when I’m out of the house. I would rather I go through it now instead of when I’m 17 and out of the house so I can’t screw up really badly when I don’t have my parents hovering over me making sure I am being the perfect little LDS girl that they want me to be. He even threatened to send me to the school that I decided against so I could never see the guy that I really liked again. My question for my dad is, “When are you going to accept the fact that I am growing up? When are you going to let me make my own mistakes and decisions?” He thinks that he is giving me freedom now but I am stuck in a jail. This was a last resort to move to my dads because I didn’t like how my life was at my moms house but I don’t know which place is better for me now. He took the lock off of my door, I’m on a 35 minute timer to walk a mile and a half home from school every day and I do my homework 5 feet from his desk where he works every day. It’s like prison. When this lady brought to my dads attention that I was having a secret relationship I told my boyfriend and he and I broke it off and he said that he would wait for me when I turned 16. I told him that I was almost positive that he was not going to wait for me for when I turn 16 because a lot can happen in a year and a half. He then said, “I’ll still be dating but they won’t be serious ima just have fun and baby trust me ill be there in 2 years and we will get married and have kids.” Okay explanation to that last part. I was and am still crazy about him. We talked several times about what we wanted for our future and I told him that I wanted to get married and sealed in an LDS temple and have kids and he wanted the same thing. He even started investigating the church. I was freaking out because what the hell was that supposed to mean? I was just giving him up just like that so that he can go and “have fun” with other chicks? He could obviously tell that I was upset and he said “Look, I love u and no one will ever take that from u u are the love of my life and I want to get married to and have a family with u and u only but I cant afford to lose the most important person in my life”. Texting talk has some of the worst grammar, spelling and punctuation ever. Yikes. That was word (and letter) for word. That calmed me down a little bit but I couldn’t believe that it was happening. I was losing the one person that meant the most to me. I was mad at my dad. I held him accountable. He was responsible for all of this. I cried myself to sleep that night. I wanted him back. I wanted him back so badly. I wanted to be able to call him mine. To kiss him. To hug him without feeling pain and lonely. Now it’s three weeks later, I haven’t lost any of my feelings for him yet he tortures me with pictures of him and other girls on Instagram and he now has another girlfriend. His new chick is beautiful. A lot more pretty than I am. I sit here not being able to do anything but watch. Sit and watch as the one thing that I have ever had such strong feelings for slips out of my fingers. He’s not mine anymore. I don’t have anyone that feels that way about me. But the funny thing is. I’m so used to people just tossing me aside that it’s just another person that came into my life for a season and just left when they saw the rain coming.

Where To Now?

Two days after Battle #1 school was about to start and I had to act fast. That Monday I went to go and get my nails done in the school by moms house colors. This was a part of my plan. I personally do not like fake nails and my nails painted in yellow and purple, it was almost killing me but it was what I had to do. My dad also took me to Sephora and to some other stores just to make sure that I was ready for school the next day. I went to bed with my whole plan set and ready to go, it was just how I was going to execute it was the only problem. It was 5 am and I got up and began to get ready for seminary. I went in the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my teeth, all of that good stuff. I then went back in my room, got dressed, put my makeup on, and packed my backpack. My backpack contents consisted of a binder with paper and a few pencils, a few notebooks, and our water bill. As I went to seminary I couldn’t stop thinking about the many possibilities of how the day could turn out. I stayed strong and stayed to the plan. After seminary was over I walked my friends to school (the school by my dads house that I wished to attend) and after I walked them to where they were going I went to the office. There was no way that I was going to be dragged to the #1 school that I do not want to go to next to my moms house when my dad picked me up from seminary so I didn’t tell him where I was going and I took matters into my own hands. My dad wasn’t going to be able to do it because it was a tricky situation and he could have gotten in a lot of trouble if he tried to do what I attempted to do. Luckily, he was running a little late anyways so that gave me a little more time. I went over to the registrars office and did anything that I could to get myself signed up for school there the day of. I almost even tried to convince her that I was homeless because I ran away from my moms house because there was a poster on the front of the school that stated different cases in  which they could accept students. I argued almost every technicality possible and still was not successful. After doing about everything I could I was finally sent to the principal to talk to him and tell him what was going on. I informed him that there was a tricky and messy divorce situation and that I have been asking to go to that school since before I started high school and that I was taking matters into my own hands because no one could do it for me. After all of that he then told me that as much he would love to just enroll me now and get me set up with a schedule, he can’t mess with a court order. I then went to go talk to one of the counselors and once again explained to her what was going on and what she pretty much told me was that there was nothing that I could do about it. I then called my dad, told him where I was, and he took me to school. At the end of the day I told my parents that I would not be going back to that school. I refused. When we went to go and pick up my brothers for Tuesday pickup I ran into the house to get a few things. I ran around the house trying to find the keys to my moms safe. I finally found them after a few minutes I went upstairs and opened up my moms safe. I grabbed all of my legal documents (birth certificate, social security card, and passport) and left everything else for my mom. None of the other stuff was of use to me. I just needed my documents so I could get signed up for a different school. Any school. When we started heading home my dad hit two schools near our house because I needed to go to school, I wasn’t going back to the one by my moms house and I wasn’t being allowed into the school that I wanted to go to. I got to choose which one I wanted to go to between the two options that I had and I chose the independent studies school that was one block away from my dads house. I only had to go to school 3 times a week and I only had 5 classes a week. I thought that it would be fun. It didn’t really matter to me which school I chose because it was going to be school #8 no matter what I chose but I wasn’t about to choose the school that was the rival to the one I wanted to go to. I soon found out that the work load was a lot and this independent studies thing was really hard but I prayed that it would only be temporary. I soon found out that because it was such a small school of only 300 I could take classes at the school I wanted to go to. So I began to take the ROTC class over at the school I have been working to go to… so technically I was enrolled there! I was just one step closer to getting what I wanted.

Pickups

After that one Sunday I think my mom went out of her way to make my life as hard as possible. Since then I was forced to do all of the handoffs for a good long period of time because it had to look like my dad wasn’t holding me hostage or anything and my mom had to see that I was making this decision and I wasn’t being forced to do anything that I didn’t want to. Every Tuesday and Sunday my mom would ask me if I was coming home. Each week I had to tell my mom “no” and that I wasn’t coming home. I don’t think she understood that I decided to make my dads house my only home. What is the meaning of the word “home” anyways? I’ve had so many of them that the word is almost meaningless anymore. What I think the meaning of the word is somewhere where you feel comfortable and safe, where your family or loved ones are. The true meaning of the word is a lot less meaningful but it just depends on the interpretation. It could mean different things to different people. But my new home was at my dads house because that is where I now chose to call home. I think in the beginning of all of this my mom didn’t realize how serious I was.  I don’t think she took me seriously. Then again, who takes a 14 year old seriously? I don’t think my mom knew what damage she was doing to me every week that she asked if I was coming home. I would go into my room after I close the door every Tuesday night and start crying. I missed my mom. I didn’t want to be doing this to her. I didn’t want to only be seeing her for 30 seconds a week. It was what needed to be done. It’s a sacrifice that I needed to make.

Battle #1

It was Saturday afternoon, two days after I had left my mom’s house and my mother was still unaware of the fact that I wasn’t going to come home. She had come by my dad’s house to drop off some money because I told her that I wanted to go shopping for back to school clothes with my dad. When she came up to the door I opened the door and saw her with an envelope of money just standing there. I walked up to her, gave her a hug, and took the money. I slowly backed into the house and kept my gaze locked on my mom. I then said “I’m not coming home on Sunday”. She replied, “Yes you are.” Again. With this whole back and forth thing. I really did not get it. Did she think that she was going to convince me to come back home if she told me that I was going to enough times? Because that was definitely not the case. She finally asked for my dad to come out after we did the whole back and forth thing about 10 times. They had a conversation and it consisted of something along the lines of she expected me to come home on Sunday and that I am going to school over by her house. She then left and I went into my room where my friend was waiting for me and I just sat on my bed and started crying. Or was I? I couldn’t cry because she was there. I attempted to get something out but it just wasn’t working out so I just wiped what I was able to get out off of my face and continued on with my day. When my dad came into my room he told me that I should keep the money for an emergency just in case something happens because he had already paid for my back to school clothes. In my mind, what I heard was, “You should hold on to that money just in case you need to run away because something bad happens in court and you are forced to go back to your mothers house”. Then I continued on with the rest of my weekend. I went to church the next day and when 10 o’clock rolled around I knew that it was time for me to go out and face my mother; and sadly because it couldn’t look like my dad was forcing me into this and doing all of this for me, I had to face her alone. So I went to go and get my brothers to hand off to my mother and we all walked out together. I had several supporters on each side of the church building waiting for me and supporting me from afar and waiting for me to fight this battle and come back inside. She accused me of throwing a tantrum because I wasn’t getting what I wanted. She also tried to scare me into coming back home by saying that she called the police and they said that she could file a report against my dad and she said that she would. In that conversation I tried to explain to her that this place by my dads house, these people, my dads house in general, its my home. Her response to that was “No it’s not”. That almost killed me. Can you imagine having your own mother tell you that? Telling you that the place that you feel most comfortable is not your home? Well I had my mom tell me that and it almost crushed me. I was so happy when I was able to leave and go back into the church building because I did not want to be anywhere near her. When I went back in I couldn’t help but start crying. That was one of the toughest things I had to do, standing up to my mother. I had about a dozen people waiting for me when I came in. My best friend was in the mix of these people and when I saw her I went up to her, hugged her and just continued to cry. When I did that she didn’t know if I was laughing or crying because she had never seen me cry. I have tried to be so strong in all of this that I hadn’t let anyone see in my vulnerable state and crying. I didn’t want to bother anyone with my problems. When I finally let go my bishop took me into a room and started asking me what she said and telling me what I should do. I don’t remember much of that conversation but I do know that my bishop has helped me a lot through all of this. That was the end of Battle #1 but I can tell you that after that my mom did not make the situation easy on me at all…

The Hardest Decision of My Life Pt. 2

It was a beautiful sunny day on the warm beach of the North Shore on the island of Oahu. The waves were washing onto the shore and being swallowed back into the depths of the clear light blue Pacific Ocean. My two younger brothers were screaming as they were being teased by the water that was chasing them up and down the beach. My mom and I were sitting underneath a tree up on the beach so that we wouldn’t get wet. She was observing her silly children running around in the water and making mud castles on the sand. All of her worries were left behind back home while mine were eating away at me like my dad had predicted would happen. He warned me before we went on the trip that I should tell my mom before we got back because it would eat at me the whole trip and I wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself. That is exactly what happened about 3 days into our 2 week trip. None of the family was around and I saw an opportunity so I just took it. I then blurted out, “I’m moving to my dads house”. She said, “No you’re not”. I then said, “Yes, I am.” From then on anything that I would say she just kept on telling me that I wasn’t. Like I had realized before, there was no reasoning with her. So the rest of our trip we had a lovely time and we just enjoyed ourselves and didn’t speak any further on the matter. It didn’t come up at all the rest of the trip so I’m thinking that my mom thought that she won that argument. On our flight back home I just slept the whole time and played White Tiles on my phone. We arrived back home around midnight on a Wednesday night. The next day I was asking myself all day whether or not I was actually going to do it. I spent all day on the couch just watching tv all day because I had spent the past day traveling and I was really tired and didn’t really feel like doing anything. The next day was Friday and that meant that my dad was going to come and pick my brothers and I up for his time with us kids every weekend. Friday morning when I woke up I decided that I was going to do it. I needed to do it if I wanted to get what I wanted. So I began to pack all of the things that I held most dear to me which wasn’t much. The few things that I held dear to me were my stuffed animal and blanket that were given to me as a baby, my phone and my headphones. Then I just packed some of the clothes that I owned and  some of the gifts that I brought back from Hawaii for my friends, put that by the door and waited until it came the time that my dad came and it was time to leave. I couldn’t help but start crying while I was packing. I was doing something way out of my comfort zone and disobeying the one person that I had been really close to the past few years. It says in the 10 commandments to “Honor thy father and mother”. As my dad likes to say, if your parents wish for you to do something that isn’t in your best interest and not accordance to the church, (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints), you are honoring your parents by making the right decision. Even though I do find this very true, it was really hard. And this, is what I consider one of the hardest decisions of my life. As I sat there dreading the moment that was sure to come, I was even more afraid of what would happen between my mother and I but knew that I would make it through everything and would have the strength to push through. Finally the time came that I would have to say goodbye. My mom was not home but I was afraid of what she would say when she found out. I grabbed my bags and skateboard and loaded everything into the car. When I got in the car and we were driving away I looked back at one of the places that I called home and wondered if I would ever see it again. This was the beginning of a new chapter. This was the introduction to a new me. This was the start of a new life. This is when I ran away.

The Hardest Decision of My Life

In any situation, in that moment, it seems like one of the toughest decisions ever. Looking back, you might not even remember that moment you were stressing about 2 years ago. But this shot to the top of my list of “Hardest Decisions of My Life” list. It all started at Round 2. Wishing I could spend more time with my dad and wanting to go to the school next to his house. Over my first year of high school, I had yearned more and more for the day that I would be rewarded with these things. My mom only said a year right? That would mean she would listen to me when a year was up? You would think that right? But no. She didn’t. I addressed the issue again when the school year was up and she didn’t listen to me. I tried a different tactic to get to my mother seeing as she would not listen to me when I was verbally speaking to her. My dad thought it was a good idea for me to send her a letter hoping that that would work. The night that I had written the letter I had been up for hours trying to think of what to say in the letter, when I should send the letter, and what she would say about the letter while I was laying in bed trying to sleep it off. I got out of my bed and went to my dad and told him that I couldn’t sleep. So he sat me down at his computer and just let me do my thing. For some inspiration and some guidance I called my grandfather (my moms dad) because I knew that he would be the one person that I cold trust not to give me a biased opinion. When I called him I told him everything that was going on. I told him what I had been asking for and what and why I wanted things and about 10 minutes of me letting everything out, he finally told me that I should go where I am closest to the church and I can grow my testimony and faith in the church. That would be at my dads house. So I wrote my mom a letter and that letter read:

Hey momma. You may find it a little weird that I am writing you a letter considering the fact that I live with you but this might just be the only way that I can get you to listen to me and hopefully completely understand what I want. Now before you stop reading this because you think it is just ridiculous, just please do me a favor and read this whole letter through.

So in the beginning of the divorce you and I were both very angry. We didn’t understand why everything that was happening, was happening. I remember I would sleep in your bed to you know, hopefully get some comfort, but I ended up being the one that was comforting you. The whole thing changed me. I mean it was never easy for me to go to my new school and make new friends but at least I knew that I had both of my parents at home to comfort me and be the comfort I needed when school or life wasn’t really going that well. So ever since the divorce I’ve done my best to push my feelings aside and help out the most I could. In the beginning, I was angry, scared, lost, and didn’t know what to do. Letting my angry feelings guide me, I wanted to change my name, give my dad less time than he actually deserved, and I’m sure there are other things that I have missed, but anger was the cause of a lot of things that went wrong in the very beginning and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one responsible. I didn’t know what I wanted and I was confused. I had so many different voices in my head telling me what to and what not to do. I thought I knew what I wanted, but then someone would change my mind completely. I thought I knew what I wanted but I wasn’t 100% sure.

So now fast forward a few years to now. I’m a pretty moody teenager that is going into her sophomore year and has known what she wants for a good 2 years now. I wasn’t really that sure in the beginning but all along I really did know what I want. I want to go to Madison and I want 50/50 time. You’re probably thinking that it always comes down to this and shes just really needs to get over herself because its never gonna happen. I want to go to Madison because I just love it all around there. I love everything about it. Your reasoning for me not going there would probably either be “because” or “the test scores aren’t as good as santanas”. Im sorry but those arent good enough reasons. I have wanted to go there from the very beginning and the only reason I have been having a jolly good time at santana is because I had to make the best of it. There is nothing holding me back from going to the school I want to go to except for you. Not my friends… nothing. Frankly, I have moved schools so many times that I couldn’t care less anymore. 50/50 would also give you more time with us kids. I know you’re completely opposed to 50/50…. I dont really know why but for some reason you don’t like the idea. It would give you more time with us. Now i know your reason for not doing this is because “its way out of the way and its just a lot of driving”. Now really, you would actually be driving a lot less if we did this plan. You would get a lot more time with us in the week and we would most likely be able to make it to the full block of church.

Momma, I know you don’t think that getting a blessing for a calling is that important…. but it was to me. I had been wanting a calling in the Young Women’s program for 2 years and I had finally gotten it. It meant so much to me to be able to finally get that calling and I wasn’t able to have my mom there with me. As for the calling, that was in your hands, and I couldn’t have the calling 2 years ago because you wouldn’t let me. Now, its okay, I’m not holding it against you, but it would’ve been nice to get that calling 2 years ago, and I would’ve loved it if I could have had my mom at my blessing for my calling.

I am 14 years old. Legally I am able to choose where I go. I want 50/50. I want Madison. The best excuse you have given me for not being able to give me what I want is “because” and honestly I am pretty sick of it. I want a better answer if you are going to deny me those few things that would make me beyond happy and would most likely be the best things for me. I want to able to fulfill my calling and be the best Mia Maids second counselor ever. I think these decisions will keep me strong in my faith and keep me close to my heavenly father. If you don’t agree with me, I will be choosing where I want to go. I think we should do 50/50. Because if we don’t. I will probably be on a different schedule than the boys and you will definitely be driving out of your way. Im not saying I want to move in with my dad completely. I am half of both of you. Therefore I think that both of you should get half time with me (and the boys). Please consider it momma. I love you.

    -Your Daughter

Now just a little explanation to some of the terms in that letter. I am of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, or in more common terms, I’m Mormon. The church means a lot to me and it has helped me through a lot.

So after that letter I waited for a response back from my mom and got nothing back all weekend until I got in the car during pickup from church on Sunday and I had to bring it up. When I brought it up she told me that she never said that I couldn’t go to the school that I wanted to go to. With that exciting news I posted on Facebook immediately that I was getting what I wanted and that I was finally going to the school that I wanted to go to. Then when my mom saw that she commented saying , “This is news to me”. Public humiliation. She pretty much told me that I was going to the school. We then had a nice long talk about it that night and she said that I could either choose school at my dads house or church at my dads house. I had a lot of friends that I dearly loved at my dads church and they were all going to school over there. She also told me that if I wanted to go to that school I would have to go live at my dads house. As tempting as that sounded, I didn’t want to leave my mom. This was also not the first time that she had told me this. But I didn’t think that I could do it so that option was not on the table for the moment. So it was I would see them at school or at church. For several days it was the only thing that I could think about.  I did not know what to choose. Then I went to my mom, thinking that I knew what I wanted and when I told her, she said, “I don’t know why I told you that. You’re not going to that school.” Not the first time that she had messed with my head. I was fed up. I was just done. I knew that she wasn’t going to listen to me and I wasn’t going to get anything out of trying to reason with or talk to her so I decided to take matters into my own hands. To Be Continued…

Round 2

In the very beginning of all of this, I was looking for which high school I wanted to go to. It was about two years ago and my mom told me that I could choose what high school I wanted to go to. I chose the high school next to my dads house because I had a lot of amazing friends over there that were of the same religion I am and have the same morals and standards that I attempt to hold myself to. That’s the best I can do right? Try? Well I told my mom that I wanted to go to that school and she tossed it aside and told me that I wasn’t going to go there. So that was the beginning of the second round of court for my parents. I had also been asking to see my dad for half of the custody time because I was half of both of my parents. I wanted to spend more time with my dad, because even if I get super mad at my dad, I cannot stay like that forever because he is my dad, the one guy that has been there since the beginning. Since everything started, we had grown closer and mended what was broken. So I my dad had gone to court to fight for me because I was not old enough to have a say or have the courts actually listen to me, so he fought to have me half of the time and have me go to school over by his house because that was where I wanted to go but mainly for half of the time. When everything ended, which was like a year later because the mediator took about 6 months off or something, I don’t know the whole story, but she took time off and didn’t write her report until she came back, and her report pretty much ruined my chances of getting what I wanted. My parents tend to leave their stuff laying around, and I’m a really curious teenager so I saw the mediation report. When my mom wasn’t home, so I knew that I wouldn’t get caught, I looked at the mediation report and it pretty much said “I know what the child wants, but it is not the right time”. She didn’t even address my wishes for what school I wanted to attend. So when my dad went to court the second time around I was stressing out the whole day about what would happen. I was scared and nervous. I was silently praying that I would be rewarded with what I wanted because I wanted it so badly. My dad finally called when everything was over and he was crying while we were on the phone and he told me that we had lost the court battle. I started crying. I curled into the fetal position underneath my covers of my bed and just wanted to stay there. I didn’t want to go to school by my moms house. When my mom came home I was angry and upset and I didn’t want anything to do with her. When she and I sat down and talked about it she said, “let’s give it a year and see how it goes”. So I gave it one crappy year at the school near my moms house. I made the best of it because it was all I could do, there was nothing left for me to do. I tried my best. But when my first year at that school ended… things were about to change.

Where Do Memories Hide?

As hard as I try I can’t remember. I can’t recall what happened. I can’t bring back the memories. Everything that had to do with the divorce the past few years, I can’t remember. It dawned on me a few days ago that I had been missing a lot of memories. They had retreated to the depths of mind to hide themselves from my conscience. A lot of things have been happening lately and my dad had been asking me what I remember to help them organize themselves and I couldn’t remember a thing. They kept on telling me things that I apparently told them happened and I didn’t ever recall saying, hearing, or seeing those things. It was like hearing the story of someone else’s life. As if there was another child in the family that I had never heard of and they were sharing their experiences with me. It didn’t feel like my life, it felt like someone else’s. My idea is that it’s trauma and those memories have been hidden and will be revealed later on in life but I’m not really sure. I can remember my 10th birthday party better than I can remember some of the most important memories that I could have. My parents continued to ask me if I remembered things and I kept on telling them that I did not remember. Every time I had to tell them “no”, I felt more and more incomplete like I was missing something. Those were supposed to be my memories. Stories that I was supposed to tell. Possibly tell to my children, life lessons that I could teach to them. But instead of me telling them, I was being told them.