My Bio- My Life is so Cliché

Written at the request of my new group:-)

Like the life-cycle of a caterpillar to the beautiful butterfly, my life has been a series of transformations.



I just read the above line to my husband to make sure it made sense and he told me it was cliché!



I compared my life to the butterfly as I have gone through many processes of change in my 41 years. It was cliché! Funny, I might just be a walking cliché. I shall now entertain you all, telling you a little about myself in my same ol' cliché way. Sound like fun? Sure it does!



Many think I am as American as apple pie, or at least I have been told- but appearances can be deceiving.





I grew up in a small town in California. I was the apple of my daddy's eye. We lived the American dream . I grew up for the most part of my childhood in a nice home, with both parents and a younger sister. We had two dogs and a couple cats in our yard. I was schooled in the town's elite parochial school and was bought anything my heart desired. Anyone who looked from the outside in would think my lifestyle and life was the best thing since sliced bread. I would guess that would have been true, but the tide can turn and did. 



My parents eventually divorced. They made this up to us kids, not by showering more love on us, but gifts. I began to feel my parents appeased me with possessions rather than actual love. They believed they could buy my love. I resented them. I resented them for not loving me enough to stay together. I hated their "appearances are everything" mentality. Our bed of roses lives were based on lies.  I decided then it was time to go against the grain. I started to rebel. It was not my fault I turned into such a hateful teen; blame it on the rain. I started ditching school, shoplifting and experimenting with illegal substances. I could charm the birds out of trees and would always talk myself out of any real trouble. I would charm my principal so I did not have to face detention or suspension from school. I charmed the pants off the police officer who pulled me over while I was drunk driving. I barely scraped by the skin of my teeth with only a ticket for having passed through a stop sign. They say every dog has his day, well this dog had nine lives and I think I spent half of those nine in my teen years. I had more luck than you can shake a stick at, but knew eventually I would have to pay the piper.



I eventually stopped to think about where my life was headed when I became pregnant at 18. My life was not worth a hill of beans and I was bringing a child into it. There was no use in crying over spilled milk, I just had to deal the best I could with the situation I put myself in. I had my first child still a child myself- but I was as proud as a peacock when she was born. I ended up having to work my fingers to the bones as a single parent. My life was not a bed of roses anymore. I pulled long hours as a waitress for many years and eventually found the man of my dreams in the shoddy coffee shop where I worked.



My new husband and I were off like a whirlwind, adding to our family. I was pregnant by our two month anniversary. My second and last daughter, Katelyn, was born the day before my own birthday. I thought Kat was the cat's meow. I was busy as a bee for the next few years, going to college, working, and taking care of my family. Eventually, my prince turned back into a frog and we divorced.



I moved into my own apartment with my two young children and worked hard, clawing my way to the top at my new job. We may have been poor as dirt at times, but I had learned that love doesn’t cost a thing. For once in my life I felt I had all the love I needed. I was happy as a clam until one day something- actually someone- would turn my life and my children's lives upside down.





I do not wish to continue on with this story and bore you terribly or depress you. If you want to know more about me, feel free to browse my port. It says a lot about who I am; the good, the bad, and the ugly.



I often write what my soul feels- never minding to whether it flows or looks pretty. I call this style 'Word Vomit.' I purge my ugly feelings by getting them written down in ink. Since I have joined Writing.com I am learning new ways to write, and even new ways to feel. There is a support system here that is quite special. Oh, you asked me to state why I joined The First Peoples, not WDC. I joined your group because it is an important part of a friend's life. Although Native American blood runs through my veins and I have always felt a kind of kinship to the cultures and beliefs that belong to 'my people', I would have never sought out your group on my own. I joined to support my wonderful friend in her online endeavors. I am glad I followed her. I feel at home in this group and even though it has been only a couple of days; I am pleasantly surprised how 'at home' I feel.





So after all this... Do you know more about me? LOL



Here are some simple facts in case all that gibberish up there was not enough:



I am 41 years old. I am Female.

Blond, blue eyed, high cheekbones, lovely features, a goddess (just kidding)

I have two beautiful children and a grand baby (all girls)

I moved from California and now reside in Illinois with my husband (really- my fiancé of 5 years)

I work at the Dollar general (my small town does not have a preschool.)



I live, I love, and I laugh. I cry, I hurt, and I mourn.

I am you in many ways...human.