White Trash Cinderella

There was a time when I truly believed I knew what was best for me. Life is sorta easy when you're a pretty hometown girl.

I met my first boyfriend in high school, he introduced me to pot and a life full of street smarts and love for the rugged outdoors. Not long after graduating our relationship took a turn. We started expanding our boundaries and adding people to our relationship.

Which eventually pushed me away.. College wasn't in my cards. So I worked my way to the middle, and eventually got stuck. I started at a pizza shop. cutting bread and preparing salads that's where my love for cooking evolved and my street smarts came into play. After a few months I was opening the shop and making house soups from scratch.. but I also had another love and form of living... selling drugs.. steady flow of money becomes an addiction.. and it gets lonely when you have no one to spend it with.. I thought I was stable enough to look for love in another person.. stepping out of my comfort zone I reached out to someone who had always been there for me.. as an introvert this was big for me.. this is also when my life took a strange turn of events.. turns out, my great white buffalo is straight edge.. does not approve of smoking pot and if he knew my means of income, i wouldn't have a chance.. so i did a life makeover.. new job. no drugs. fresh start... I was absolutely in love with this man. He snapped. I jumped. there was nothing that i wouldn't do for him. but what i didn't realize is the narcissist he didn't know he was. When I looked in the mirror I also didn't know who I saw. i had lost myself and molded into the girl he had wanted.. I was always trying to do better, be better, not for me, but for him. and after about 5 years, I found myself pregnant. my initial thoughts were pure happiness. Maybe this is the change we needed,. For him though, nothing was ever good enough.. He was not thrilled.. he spoke words that forever burned a piece of my heart. "we'll take care of it" i knew what this meant initially. but it didn't quite register. His parents told me the nastiest things to make me go through with this..it wasn't till the following week. We took the longest drive of my life to a clinic out of town. The wait in the office was literal hours, cold and filled with girls of all nationalities each beautiful in their own way. we were all there for the same reason.. as I sat there all I could think was, "am I the only one being forced to do this?" after the longest six hours of my life, and the most unbearable experience ever. could you believe he wanted to walk around the mall in the town we were in.. I was afraid to say no, or even mention I was in pain. Counting the minutes as they passed. I just kept replaying the same scene over and over in my head as I slowly slumped behind him. "there's two heart beats, would you still like to proceed" after 2 grueling hours. we get back to the car. I'm in tears. I couldn't hide the pain anymore. I also couldn't hide who I was anymore.. two weeks after the operation I went back to work... a vengeance of sorts grew inside me.. When the opportunity arose I took it. a coworker asked me to smoke, something I love and gave up for my new love. and I decided it was time for ME. not even a month later I found myself in another man's bed. relieved of sorts.. but I wasn't happy... At this point I was just surviving. between the pills, blow, weed and alcohol. my days blended. before I knew it I had been living in this trailer park for over a year with someone who had no future. and could you fucking believe it... I was pregnant...

I was screaming Madonna's song. papa don't preach for the next few weeks. I was by no means in love. but I was "keeping my baby" he was already a dead beat. so I was worried for our future but I knew I could do it alone if I had to. The abuse was insane. being pregnant meant growing up for real. no more drugs and partying. But for him being pregnant meant prison. He was an alcoholic. hitting me didn't phase him the least and a baby in the picture only made the tension stronger.. giving myself to this man was no longer an option.. I was told that if I didn't give him what he wanted he'd go somewhere else for it.. Afraid of being forced to do things I didn't want... I ran back to the only person who I have ever received true love from..

As much as we both wanted it to work.. me having another man's baby after what we went through didn't make the situation easy.. after a one night stand with the man i should have never left. I went back to the only home I had at this point.

Admitting my faults, I went right back to my personal hell.. A few weeks later, I found out I was pregnant again.. this time twin boys. as if life hadn't defeated me enough.. This pregnancy was the worst. between the mental and physical abuse. Premature labor, raising a newborn while being EXTRA pregnant... there wasn't much my mind and body could actually handle moving forward. cesareans are the worst. My babies were here. But my ability to move was garbage. The next few months broke me. As I forced myself to do everything alone, I was not asking for help anymore.. I eventually got into the groove of raising three babies as a first time mom.. It wasn't till the twins turned one year that I decided I needed some fresh air. I was taken to a party, the first thing I looked for was weed… I saw a familiar face and decided to say hi.. After a few moments I said “dude I need to smoke” hesitantly he said I wasn't interested in what he had…. There was so much pent up exhaustion, aggression, scrambled thoughts, feelings I couldn't control. I told him “I'm willing to do anything right now” this was my first encounter with crystal meth. The next 3 months blinked by. I was being shared nightly by the father of my children and my dealer.. One night after getting high, I was scrolling through the news, there was a picture of a woman living in filth with her children, she was an addict.. That was my wake up, my moment of realization. I called my mother immediately. And within the hour I was moved out with my children, living with my parents..

I feel like all families have secrets, some much deeper than others.. There was a reason I didn't like running home to my parents.. Years before when I had first started dating my great white buffalo. My sister had come forward about our step dad molesting her. I stayed away from the drama, lies, and betrayal, but always had a weary feeling about him. My mother continued her relationship and married him. Ultimately dividing the family. So staying with them wasn't my favorite option.