marion scott
Bio
I am a single mom and have a business I have slowly started working towards launching and successfully maintaining. I am 32 and I have 5 kids. I love writing and have over a dozen projects in the works at the moment. Check out my page!
Stories (23)
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Sisterhood Transcends Even Death. Content Warning.
I want to share a story with you all. I was 10 years old when I first met her. As a child (and even as an adult) I have really horrible social anxiety meeting new people. As a child, I would get nauseous and vomit. My father who knew this always helped me through awkward social interactions until I could become comfortable and relax around new people. One year before my 10th birthday, my father said that my god-parents were bringing my god-sister and god-brother for a visit. I had not seen her since we were toddlers and only vaguely remembered our first meeting. On this day, my anxiety was on high alert and my stomach was my enemy number 1. I begged my father to tell them I was too sick to see her and make them leave. But he did no such thing, instead warmly inviting my god-family inside. She was beautiful. Long blond hair and only slightly chubby, she was shy and spoke very softly. Immediately, I wanted her to feel at ease. "Come on, I'll show you my room. The adults can talk," as we both ran up the carpeted stairs to my room, which was one of the largest in the house. For hours we played games and it was like the past 10 years of space between us had not existed, almost as if we had never been apart. "Hey what do you want to do when you grow up?" I asked her. "I want a fashion boutique and I want to have my two best friends open it with me." she said. "WHo are your best friends?" I was curious and almost excited at the idea of a fashion boutique. "Well, besides being my sister, you're one of them." Now I was really excited! I had found my bosom buddy friend in life. I would protect her at all costs. We sat down drawing out and excitedly mapping out a business plan. The back would be a huge store room of supplies and products. The jewelry would be to the right of the front doors as you walked in, near the cash registers and walking upstairs would be a large open room for kids to run around and play while their parents shopped. After hours of talking and sketching, we had a full 40 page document in our hands. My god-mother appeared at the top of the stairs, telling her it was time to go. I didn't want her to go and for the next 5 years we were inseparable. As we headed into our teen years, our dream stayed live in our hearts. She was going to go to fashion school so we could have our own clothing line and I would go to business school to study all the business aspects of our endeavor. Nothing in life changed our dreams. We had struggles and went down different paths in life, always keeping in contact and joking about how one day we would have our dream come true and we would finally be reunited. Six years ago, I got a call telling me an intruder had broken into her house and accidentally set her place on fire. She died that night, and when I let out a scream I felt like our dream had died along with her. For years, I was too distraught to even attempt to think of our store. On the second anniversary of her death, I decided that I wanted to bring that dream back to life, to honor her and what we dreamed of as children on that fateful day we first met. I opened the business with a name I chose in her honor that she would have loved. Tonight, I am struggling with the financial aspects of sustaining a business and all it entails with only myself to run it. More than that though, I am struggling with the grief of chasing a dream that has to evolve, has to change, even just a little bit. And I am missing her so much! Tonight, I want anyone out there reading this who has ever struggled with losing a sibling or a loved one to know--I understand and I know your pain. It sucks and it is ok to let it suck. They miss you as much as you miss them. One day, our fashion boutique will take off and I will have finally succeeded at building our dream, because I won't give up the one thing I have in life of hers--of mine and hers. Tonight this is me.
By marion scottabout a year ago in Families
The Gift of True Love
I stared at the piece of plastic in my hand. 'Pregnant,' it read. I had barely turned 16 and was hiding in the bathroom I shared with my two younger brothers. I was feeling a myriad of emotions--fear, happiness, love, uncertainty--were the main ones. How was I going to tell my family? my friends? the father of my baby? How would I finish school? What would my life be like now? A few weeks after this moment I was sexually assaulted and I felt like I wanted to die. But I will never forget what happened that night. My son came to see me in my dreams. He told me how much he loved me. He told me I was brave to become a mom, when so many would not approve. He thanked me for giving him a chance. And with that, I found the strength I needed. I found the one thing in life I had been needing so desperately--I found true love--in the form of an innocent child asking to be born, to bring me a life of joy. I found a best friend who shared my sense of humor, a tiny person who gave me a purpose in life. With it, we braved many dragons and monsters, both real and unreal. We fought side by side, always protecting each other, loving with all our heart and escaping to a world all our own. A world no one could enter, for it was built in our hearts and our soul. It is a world that is encircled with such a strong barricade, no weapon can pierce it or destroy it. As time goes by, our adventures increase--finding music artists we both love, experimenting with new recipes, even struggling with the same Eating Disorder, or helping each other through life's heartbreaking moments--and with each one our world only becomes stronger. My son is about to be 16 and I can hardly believe so much time has passed and that one small moment changed my life beyond anything I ever could have imagined. When he was 8 years old, our world was torn, and he was given to an unfit father who was abusive and jealous of our world. Although we have remained separated with a physical distance between us, we still escape to our world. We have still stood side by side together in the battle to survive- a daily battle of abuse, trauma and pain. We are connected through our soul—a connection, a link—that is unbreakable and cannot be severed. Instead, with each attempt to break it, to rip us apart, and annihilate our safe space within each other, this bond has only strengthened with every day we are apart. The love cannot be broken- it is one that is created in a mother’s heart from the very beginning and is so strong that she is willing to go to war for her child. He is my son, my best friend in the whole world, my confidant. Withstanding war for almost a decade now, we still fight. You cannot break us. You cannot shatter us. Because in the very small moment, when I was hiding and secretly panicking that my life would forever be changed, little did I know but my son was placing comforting thoughts in my heart even then. He has been my savior many times, more than anyone knows, because he is the only one who could save me. I am filled with so much gratitude at the many moments we have shared and the millions I know we still will. I am truly honored to have a child who showed me a world of love and peace. And I cannot wait until he is able to come back to me.
By marion scott3 years ago in Families
Behind The Mask
I am 32 years old. My birthday will be in a month and I am currently finding myself reflecting on myself as a person, specificially in relation to my physical appearance. I have given birth to 5 healthy children, suffered over a dozen miscarriages since I was 15, and barely made it through an ectopic pregnancy. I have had two major surgeries, both which have scarred my body. I have multiple scars on my legs and other parts of my body, and though I have been told many times to be happy about these markings, I cannot help but feel self-conscious. Growing up, I was teased that my body was "barbie doll figure." I had no physical scares, stretch marks or popping veins in my legs. I am not even in my 40's and feel as if my once beautiful body is now one of a mom. I take pride in my appearance and it is a difficult thing for me to accept how much it has changed in 15 years. I feel old and at times insecure- in short I feel like I have aged my body so much in such a short amount of time. I am having a difficult time feeling secure in myself-but only with this aspect. I love who I am beyond this. My humor, my personality, and all my quirks are things my friends and my kids love about me. I find myself asking the question, "when did my body change so drastically?" Has it always been this way and I haven't noticed it until now, or has it changed so slightly it was unnoticable? I am not sure what the answer is to this. I know I am not alone in these ridiculous thoughts which plagued my mind for days on end. I know there are others who have insecurities about their appearance. I know it happens to many people who may not want to admit it and hide it from others. I am not looking for others to tell me that my body looks good or that I need to love my mom like appearance. I am searching for answers to questions I haven't fully formed inside my head yet. I am searching for something I don't understand either. How can I find answers and a sense of belonging when I can't seem to find the path or the signs to point me to the right path? What do I need? I could not begin to answer that question--not in one sentence, or paragraph or even one page because I do not yet know. I am not searching for validation as I do not feel it would help much. I am looking for something that goes beyond validation and motivation. I am looking for a way to find peace in the things about myself that I do not like. I am searching for a way to love the things that others believe I should, but I don't. Because they are like tiny monsters in my head, gnawing at my heart and soul, whispering no one could love me with those on my body. As a mother, my children ask all the time what each scar is from and why women get them, or how ugly they are. With the innocence of their questions, the monsters deep inside rise up finding strength in those moments. Why does it matter? Do I really care what others think? Or is it only myself I am doubting? I have always placed such a high value on my physical appearance--always feeling like I was the competition to others. Now I do not feel like I am even close to being in the range of competition. Is this what happens as we age as women? Are there other women who feel this way too? Am I supposed to find acceptance with all of this and place higher value on other qualities about myself? And if so, how do I do this? Tonight I am full of many thoughts, questions and even some doubt about myself as a person. Tonight this is who I AM.
By marion scott3 years ago in Longevity
The Battle of Darkness
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. In fact, they had moved farther east due to the black curse that plagued the Valley. Now with the looming dangers of their homeland, they had begun to take over various towns in the Valley. This is where our story begins….
By marion scott4 years ago in Fiction
True Confessions
Hey Mom, I never told you this before but there is something I have wanted to tell you for years and tonight it is too hard to hold in. I am not sure I will ever have the courage to give you this letter, but all the same at least I will have written it. From the moment I saw you and Dad get married, I knew I wanted that. I wanted a man to share my life with who would love me and look at me as if I was his everything. That was the dawning of my biggest dream in life. Later that expanded to include a house and kids. Now you know that as a single mom, I have managed to attain 1 out of 3 of those things. What you don't know are the daily struggles with simple life that I continue to have, from the moment I got pregnant with Samuel and being a teen mom, I have faced many things in life. But there is one thing that has remained the same for the past 16 years and with my birthday in a few days, I realize I am still struggling with this. There are so many nights when I have gone to bed with an empty stomach and hunger pains that through 16 years, my body became tolerant of, ignorant of and recently revealed itself as an eating disorder I have had for 16 years. I should make clear, your grandkids NEVER go to bed hungry but the same cannot and has not been able to be said about your daughter. I am always struggling with finances, even keeping my bills as low as possible. But tonight when I put the kids to bed, I came down and for about the billionth time made a pasta dish for dinner, wishing it was anything else and then the tears began to fall. In a few days, I will be 32 and though I am actually ok that I may not ever meet someone to share my life with, I at least always thought by the time I hit 32 I would have my own house and be able to afford enough groceries that I didn't have to ration my own meals. I would never take food out of the kids mouth, even if that does often mean not eating myself or living off toast and fruit and tea. The past few weeks have been unbearably painful as I not only was diagnosed with an eating disorder, but also set out to conquer it quickly. I was doing so good up until the past few days. I have no money for rent let alone the gas to even go to the grocery store and buy more food. Every morning when I take the kids to school, I watch my gas gauge, like it's a nervous tick and I pray that I make it back to pick them up later and don't run out of gas. Tonight, was just such a night. I am not sure if it's my impending birthday or if I am just feeling extra emotional tonight. But I started to cry in the kitchen, wishing so badly I had a nice house of my own and money in the bank that I would never have to skip a meal for the rest of my life. I have never wanted to tell you this, because I know you would worry and stress out and become way too overprotective constantly asking if I am eating, which would honestly stress me out so much I wouldn't be ABLE to eat. But I also can't tell you or dad this, because you guys are supposed to be retired right now. You aren't supposed to be struggling to pay your own bills at your age. You should be living a good, happy life right now and I know adding my own problems on your plate would become a heavy burden. Take it from me, this is not a burden I would wish anyone to carry. It is a heavy burden with a high price. But very few people in my life even have the knowledge of my eating disorder- and those who do were the ones involved in diagnosing me. I have wanted so badly to tell you, to cry and have you tell me that everything is ok and that I would never have to be hungry again. But I can't. I know that all I would be doing is placing the burden on your shoulders instead and I love you so much Mom. You are my greatest comfort and my best friend. I would never want to do anything to hurt you or stress you out. But tonight, mom I wish so badly that you knew so that you could hold me because I don't care if I am in my 30's. I need my mom tonight to help me through this and I need help carrying this burden. It's too hard to do alone. I am so sorry I haven't told you this yet. I know someday this is something I will share with you. I love you so much mom! You are my everything.
By marion scott4 years ago in Confessions
Courage Is Grace Under Pressure
April 5, 1914 morning time It has nearly been 2 years since that horrid tragedy aboard the Titanic. Today I spoke with a reporter from the New York Times and described my experience aboard until the tears falling down my face could reach my glass. Upon this, I dismissed her and told her to call again tomorrow. Reflecting on that night, I will always be tormented by the mass bodies and screams for help that pierced the air. One cry, in particular, was that of a little boy-THE little boy. To this day, I am haunted by the ghost of him-tormented in my very soul that I could not save him. The sweetest soul ever seen in a boy here and now, though I could not save him. All of Caroline’s connections have made it impossible to so much as set foot outside this banishment of mine. The days are unbearably lonely and the only company I have is my precious Jakey. I did so want him to have a brother to run and play with- that little boy who perished beneath the bitter ice swallowing the ship. I have been unable to sleep and many nights lay awake, haunted by the terror of screams as people died nearly as instant as their bodies touched the water. I feel shame and guilt for surviving. What made me more special than every soul on board? My husbands' money? My social status? Every person should have been valued. Money means nothing to me and has only brought me unhappiness and a wealth of control through Caroline. My days are unhappy ones and I fear I soon may break. I hope soon to be free of their control, though I am not sure how this could be. I must go now, for the reporter has returned. I hope to share more of my story with her.
By marion scott4 years ago in Confessions
Looking for love in all the wrong places
From the time I was a little girl and watched my parents get married, I knew I wanted that kind of love in my life. I never really fit in with many of my friends growing up, and as a result I fell in love with books, especially those with a happy ending. Those who know me and those who follow me, know that for 5 years I was in an abusive marriage. Leaving was the scariest and hardest thing I have done, EVER. Yet, my hope for finding my happy ending has never wavered. The past few weeks especially, I am wondering if it is something attainable. My situation is unique and not exactly what men put on their list for dream girls. I have asked myself many times, 'Is he out there somewhere?' 'Is he lost?' 'Why can't he find me?'
By marion scott4 years ago in Psyche
The Power of Control
So its been a while since my last article. For a while, I was feeling safe and happy with how my life was going. I had a good job and a way to pay my bills and care for my children. In January, I lost my job and sought out another one. It took the entire month of January before I was finally hired at a new job, regaining some small semblance of control in my life. With that I was getting back on top, feeling happy and creating a sense of normal back in my life. Tonight, I had a trigger from my past. Now in my experience, you never know when it may show up or how or even how deep it will slice through the old pain. Tonight when I burst into tears over my kids dropping my dinner on the floor, it became a sudden realization of something I have not conquered yet about my past. With my ex-husband we never had enough food in the house, and though I always found a way to make sure my children were fed, quite often there were nights and even entire days when feeding them meant skipping the meal myself. I never even felt safe to eat in my own home, like I would be punished for even trying to eat. If it wasn't him bestowing it upon me like a grand gesture of approval, danger lurked around the corner and consequences all too apparent if I dared to eat without permission. Its been nearly 3 years since I left him and became free, yet even the smallest occurences can trigger the darkest memories and wounds. Tonight I need to write. I need to let it all out, because it is the ONLY thing that I control myself. I cannot control how angry I feel at him or how upset it makes me at times that I do not feel like I will ever have the strength to forgive him for everything he's done to us. I don't feel that he even deserves it. Most days now I am actually finding more happiness and light than having to suffer through those dark days. The reason for that is because I control my life and my days. I control who I let in and what I can do in that day. I make as many choices as I can because that is something I can do. Even being aware that choosing to take the kids to school and go to the office for training or classes, I am the one making those decisions and that is something powerful to hold onto. I may not ever forgive him for his actions, but I will hold onto the hope that someday I will find peace and the small things that come to trigger me will no longer have the desired effect they seek out to do: remind us of a broken and painful past. Those triggers are a direct link to things we want to forget, yet they whisper to us, they bring up painful memories in a flash, and in a moment we feel all of it rushing through our bodies, as if its a fresh wound. But we have the power to take it back. In reality, the fact that it upset me and I started to cry well, has nothing to do with my kids. Its that the past came knocking and sucker punched me. I have so many choices on how to respond to that. I can lay there defeated or I can get up and sucker punch it back. Because I DO have the power to control those memories. I have the power to say to my past "no more." I will not let you in to hurt me anymore. So tonight, even though it took me by surprise and was unexpected, I refuse to give up and I will not let it drag me back into its grips. For anyone who is reading this and may know what I mean, I want to say to you, "those moments will come where you will flashback and it may hurt when it does. Grab that sucker and throw it back into the depths of the past where it belongs. Your future is brighter and will be what you choose it to be. I choose to take back control and make my future one that is full of happiness and love. That is who I am tonight and this is me."
By marion scott4 years ago in Confessions
Ambition requires courage
To start off I would like to say that while this week, like every other, has been full of memories and triggers, I learned something incredibly important about myself. I am most proud of myself when I am doing the things I personally love. For anyone reading this I would like to re-cap quickly what my life is like currently so you understand the importance of my discovery. I am a single mom of 5 kids, I work 3 jobs (1 full-time and 2 part-time) and I attend online classes at a university. I started my fall semester nearly 3 weeks ago. At the same time this happened, I came to the realization I was doing too much and my cup was overflowing. I needed to let some stuff out. So I shifted my focus. Prior to this class, my primary focus had been on work and giving 100% to all of my jobs, my kids, my friends and new friendships or relationships. But I realized it is physically impossible to give 100% in every one of these aspects. A human can only give so much and do so much-especially a single mom and student. So I shifted my focus to myself-as selfish as that may sound. I made the decision that I needed to do what I wanted and what I felt would make me the happiest. I prioritized the tasks needed to be completed for work, of which I can give 100% of my dedication, rather than trying to put in 100% to all jobs. I made a list of everything that needed to be done, including my classwork. I studied the syllabus and work hard every night to complete my assignments. I have received my grades on my assignments and I am so proud to say I have gotten A's on all of them. This may seem like a minuscule accomplishment to some. My days currently consist of 17-19 hour days and I am thoroughly exhausted by the end of it. Yet, I feel so invigorated and happy at the end of it. I feel like I have accomplished so much. I can only describe it as feeling empowered and feeling powerful inside. One of the triggers this week has been that my ex-husband used to berate my classes and schoolwork, putting me down and saying I would never finish my degree. Starting this semester fresh, I feel ambitious and courageous. It is no longer the goal of "I will show him what I can do", but instead has been changed to, "I will prove to myself how much I can do." Apparently, I can do a lot. This is the fresh start I needed and have been desiring for the past few years. But I couldn't rely on anyone to give me that fresh start. I had to go out myself and make it happen. I have to work hard to create it and accomplish it. I have found a sense of peace inside that I did not know I could find in my healing journey. I know the journey is far from over and there are times that I am still triggered. There are moments I still cry and want to hide from the world. There are moments when I feel I can't possibly handle one more thing on my plate. But I remind myself of how much IS on my plate, and how hard I am willing to work to accomplish those goals. I am in charge of my destiny. I choose the pathway on my journey and I have the power to choose how I will heal along the way. Tonight I am feeling incredibly powerful and courageous inside. I am feeling excited and proud that my hard work has paid off and has been worth it. I feel like I can get through this and I will heal from my pain. Because pain is only temporary. Tonight, this is who I am and I am proud of who I am. Tonight, this is me.
By marion scott4 years ago in Confessions
