My Story Part 2

I firmly believe that everything in life happens for a reason. I don't know what that reason is, but I know that if anything would have happened differently throughout my life, I wouldn't be where I am right now. I don't remember most of my childhood. I was born in Kingman, Arizona and lived there for the first couple years of my life. I lived in Tracy, California for about four years, which I don't remember too much of. The most I remember from this house was playing with dolls in front of the door when my father came home from work. He didn't know I was there and he hit me in the face with the door when he entered the house, knocking my loose tooth out. I later lost that tooth somewhere in my house and never found it.

We moved to San Antonio, Texas when I was in first grade and we lived there for three years. This is where I hold most of my childhood memories. My family lived in a big four bedroom house, with a nice game room area upstairs. My two older sisters and I each had our own room separate from my parents. I loved going to school, which I walked a mile everyday to get to. My father tried to teach me how to ride a bike without training wheels when I was seven and I only asked because my sisters made fun of me for not knowing how to ride one. They patronized me constantly while my father was teaching me, so as soon as I was alone, I grabbed my bike and started practicing in the peace of my own space. This wasn't the only time that my sisters have treated me like this and I know what you're thinking. That's just what siblings do, right? Wrong. Siblings don't trap each other in a toy box, wrap each other in a trash bag, or trap each other in a washing machine thinking it's funny. They also don't push each other on a family swing until they fall off, smacking their head on the concrete below after saying to stop. And yes, my sisters have done all of these things to me and quite a bit more that I haven't mentioned yet.

My family moved to Utah when I was eight years old after losing our house in Texas. We moved to Utah specifically so that we could be closer to my mom's family for help, and we lived in my uncle's basement until my fourth grade year was over. We then moved to an apartment half an hour away until I finished my seventh grade year. We finally got a rental house close to my uncle's house, where I lived until the summer after my ninth grade year. My father had been sleeping in the basement for a while, and by that summer he had an apartment about twenty minutes away. My parents' divorce was legalized on my birthday in 2012. I finally decided I was ready to see my father again and started staying with him every other weekend until I moved in with him right before my tenth grade year. Since then, I have discovered more of what happened in my family leading up to that point, including abuse between my father and sisters which caused me to leave my father's house, and I began to understand why my sisters treated me the way they did.

If you want to learn more about what I discovered, I will post a story soon titled "Familiar Abuse" that will discuss what I found.