A brief history of me...

I was born in Texas, I am the youngest of five kids. I lived in Texas until I was eleven then moved to Oklahoma due to my Grandfathers failing health, he lived for a little over a year after we moved up here. And he died the day before my thirteenth birthday.  That event was truly one of the turning points of my life, most people would think it was the move but that was easy to get over. My Grandfather was one of my heros, and your heros...well when you are a twelve year old little girl...aren't suppose to die. I fell into a deep state of depression and anger after his death. Switched schools when I was fourteen...that's when the trouble started. I like to say my parents had given up on parents by that point and had moved on to just being my friends. I fell into a crowd that consisted of more than a few older boys and a few girls around my own age. Started drinking more than I had before, which means pretty much constantly. Smoking pot and having alot of sex and fooling around with my boyfriend at the time and his friends who later became my friends.  I am not ashamed of my past because it has become a part of who I am now but I was definitely a...uh... free spirit. I loved the adventure of sex in crazy places, sometimes with two somebodies at the same time.

Then I turned sixteen and met the "regret" and was with him for five damn years of abusive, forced sex, and being totally broken down. I had a daughter with him and six months later my mother died. Her death changed alot for me. It made me stop and actually look at the situation I was in. Made me ask myself if I really wanted to subject my beautiful baby girl to a life with an abusive asshole like him in it. I decided NO, I didn't. It took a few months to get rid of him, mainly because he wouldn't leave, my dad and I who we were living with at the time were so wrapped up in grief we didn't have the strength to actually make him go. That's where my current husband comes in. I met him on myspace of all things, he sent me a corny ass message something along the lines of "Hey baby how you doin??" and I blew up on him. Yet he stuck around, at first he was just suppose to be a nice booty call, someone to distract me from my grief and the asshole living in my home that would leave. But that changed, still can't say when. He scared the deadbeat off, and moved in a few months later. I worked at the local VFW for three years give or take maternity leave, serving a diverse crowd of Veterans, bikers, yuppies, and cowboys.

Now here I am, a twenty-five year old, married, mother of four little girls.