welcome to my silly life

Growing up I always had this ideal image in my head of what a family is, and isn't, the woman I thought I needed to be, as a wife, and a mom. I knew without a doubt what I did not want to become. I knew what kind of mother I would never be. I was adopted, and between the stories I have heard and the legal papers I have read, I have to take peace in that everything happens for a reason. As a teenager, my (adoptive) sister and I saw our mom struggle with life. Not in the sense of bad around every single corner, but literally life. Repeatedly, my sister and I would have to go to the store for bandages and gauze from another failed attempt of suicide. 17 attempts until the day I moved in with my grandparents because I refused to keep living in the nightmare. That was the first day of my senior year in high school.

That following March, while working at Taco Bell, I met who would later become my husband. That was March 10th 2001. He was still considered a boot Marine, and was really only 5 months older than I am. His first deployment was when 9/11 happened. Fast forward to January 25th 2003, he and I got married. We had a number of hiccups along the way, and the day of, my thoughts were he's late, this is a bad omen. I should have listened to my head and not my heart that day. I thought that if you really love someone you forgive the mistakes and the lies and frustrations. That love was enough to help you survive and conquer the world. January 25th 2005, while he was on yet another deployment, I gave birth to my oldest. July 11th 2006, my youngest would be born, and 8 months later, I would join the Army Reserves. Leading up to that point, my husband and I had quite a few down times, things were mediocre at best. I wanted a divorce, but knew I needed a stronger ground to stand on, in order to have my girls with me.

I made it through boot camp though not without a few bumps, bruises, and injuries. My girls were my motivation to keep pushing no matter what. While in boot camp, one soldier, I wont name for his respect, tried to take his life. I happened to be in our barracks at the same time from an injury. I was ordered to go with him to the hospital. We were in the back of one of our trucks, he was in tears. Mind you at this point, I was 25, and a mom. My instinct as a mom, fell in line with never leaving a fallen comrade. I just held this 17yr old kid, and rocked him telling him he wasn't alone, it would be alright. I knew the regulations, I knew I could easily get in trouble just for hugging him. But this, to me, was different. A few days later, while my unit was doing a training exercise, our unit commander wanted to speak with me, about this particular incident. Our captain was willing to pull strings and let me graduate early. I had been rolled, so it was my 2nd attempt at basic training. I told her I didn't want it. That I would rather Soldier X be allowed to go home without bad marks, so that if later, he could still rejoin the Army and his life wouldn't be stained with a failure to adapt record. A little while after this conversation, Soldier X came up to me, hugged me and thanked me, that he didn't quite know what I had said but he could go home. Later at graduation, I told his mom that I just did what I would want another mom to do for my kid in the same shoes.

In April 0f 2008 I noticed I was getting sick, and did not feel right at all. Between April and September I would learn I had 3 tumors, which would lead to a hysterectomy on November 1st. I was 26, feeling like less of a woman, scared I wouldn't see my girls grow up, and the distance between my husband and I was growing by the day. I was in the hospital for a week. At that point my oldest was 3 1/2. She had started regressing, almost like terrible two's were starting over again. It was like night at day with my girl, I thought it was from my multiple surgeries and being sick. I had no clue what was causing it and it didn't appear to have a medical reason. On March 16 2009, my girls and I had arrived in Utah to visit family. The next morning my sweet little girl, would tell on my husband for what he had been doing to her. My first action was take her to a hospital, my thought was its better to believe a child first and apologize later to my husband if it's not true. Since he and I both were in the military, NCIS had to get involved. I was promptly ordered to not question my husband, to not let him know that I know anything. I basically had to play nice. That lasted all of a week before I completely went off on him for hurting my girls. In July, he would confess.

Starting over was something of a nightmare. Between the trial, and suddenly a single parent I initially, was just numb to what my own feelings were. I wanted my girls to heal, and feel safe and loved. I put myself in college for massage therapy because "massage can heal the mind and the body" according to a commercial I saw. I wanted to help my girls in the best ways possible no matter what it took. At this point, there was a lot of driving time. Between weekend drills in NC, and college and family in UT, music was my comfort and solace. Pink had always been one of my top choices for music, but then one day I came across the music video for Perfect. Between how I grew up, feeling worthless and invisible, my own history of attempting suicide at 16, and wanting the better life for my daughters, this song was everything I had ever felt. I started making sure girls listened to this particular song often! I wanted them to know the words so much that the song would be ingrained into their hearts. That they were f****** Perfect to me. I typed out the lyrics for them and framed copies to put in each of their rooms. I would write the lyrics with chalk on our garage floor just to remind them.

I have made many mistakes in my life, bad decisions and all. "Perfect" to me was forgiving my own mistakes and loving myself regardless where I came from. Honestly, Pink inspired me to stay true to my path of being the kind of mom I never got to know. She inspired me to keep being the 25yr old mom looking out for a 17yr old boy, to never be the woman who cuts her wrists again, to be the mom that chooses her children over her husband without even thinking twice about it. We all make mistakes, my girls will make theirs too, but they will know despite it all, they are Perfect, like Pink.