Author Information
My Life
This is a story about my life. I don't quite know if I'll ever finish it, and to be quite honest with you, it wouldn't be the first time I start writing and don't finish. I grew up somewhere far, kind of in the middle of the earth. I blended in with all the other kids, in my mind at least. There really wasn't anything special about me. I just remember being obsessed with my mom as a kid. I wanted to know her and be her in all stages of her life. My dad was always working. I don't really remember too many things about him except that he always brought gifts after all his business trips. I looked forward to that. And the fact that I got to sleep by my mom when he was away. She hated to sleep alone.
it wasn't until I was in high school that I started to be aware of myself as a member in this world. Before, my life was consumed with getting good grades and being the best student. But in the sunmer before my 9th grade year, I moved. My family moved to a different country, and I was the new girl at school for the first time in 9 years. I don't remember much about our prior moves, I just remember crying a lot in first grade, and looking back, it was probably because I had a hard time adjusting to my new school, since we had just moved to a different country then too. 9th grade was different though. We moved twice. So I was the new girl twice.
It was the first time I remember feeling depressed. Like real life, wanting life to end, not eating, always sleeping, depression. It all sounds angsty now, but it hurt so much at the time. I missed all my friends. I felt like they were in our little bubble and doing all the fun stuff without me. Because my second move came in the middle of the school year, I was so behind in school that I felt like I was climbing Mount Everest just to make sense of what my classmates found to be basic math, science, music, drama, etc. To top that all off, I was shy. Like super, won't speak a word to anyone, shy. My friends became all the sweet girls who were interested enough to talk to me and find out a bit of information about me. I saw some familiar faces too, and the rest of the year was a blur of going to school and holding it together until I got home and cried my eyes out. The next year was when I would meet the people who would begin to shape my identity. Or rather, who would awaken this awareness in me of who I was and what I stood for in this world.
10th grade rolled around and I began to make some neighborhood friends. We hung out almost everyday after school and on weekends, but barely spoke a word to each other at school. It's so strange. I'm not sure why it was like that, but it was. I began to realize that I was more of a tomboy. I enjoyed being the only girl amongst the guys. I loved playing basketball and going biking or swimming. I didn't feel like I was trying to fit in this way. I never felt pretty and when I tried, I was always disappointed. I felt like a fraud, like I was trying to be something I wasn't and could never be. So I hung out with the guys. It made me feel free and happy. At school, I started to get to know more kids that had similar interests to me. I joined the girls volleyball and basketball teams. Actually, it was a day in gym class when the substitute gym teacher pulled me aside to ask me to join the volleyball team that gave me the confidence to do so. I was never great at sports, but with my newfound love for hanging out with the guys, I got good enough to make some teams. My teammates eventually introduced me to some of their friends and suddenly, all the important people in my life came walking in. In my neighborhood I met a girl, who went to the same school, who I felt so completely myself with. We became super close and had a small falling out when I started hanging out more with my teammates. Eventually we all began hanging out together and in that era I met my first real guy crush/best friend.
This all spanned over a period of two years. The summer before my junior year, I found out the girl I met was leaving for boarding school. I was devastated. She didn't tell me, which sort of clued me in on the fact that she'd put some distance between us since I started hanging out with my teammates. I was so upset I applied to boarding school in Switzerland because I couldn't picture coming back to school the following year without her. That summer I went to summer camp with her. I met so many people from so many places, I was amazed. It was also the first time I ever started to realize that I was pretty enough for boys to show an interest in me. I had no clue anyone even noticed me walking into a room, but that year, girls I met would tell me about the conversations they would overhear about me. From boys. That was a shocker. It boosted my confidence from negative 50, to like maybe 50.
I never did end up going to boarding school. I just came back the next year, sort of feeling like I was drifting because I had this whole other world that fulfilled me in ways my school life didn't. I had my camp friends. Then I got close to my crush/best friend. He was different than any person I met. He was like me, sort of viewing the world with these rose colored glasses. He liked not being a typical guy, the way I liked not being the typical girl. He was Ryan from the OC. Kind of nerdy, liked using big words, liked music that was low key by artists that weren't so popular or pop culture. I remember many lunch times that we sat together with an iPod and a set of headphones between us, just listening to something that took us out of our world. I was a reader, I read every romance novel I could find from 7th grade until, well, now, and his music did the same thing to me that my books did. It put me in a world where there was so much hope. So much to be discovered. It's what most of our conversations were about. We clicked so well. Then he asked me out.
We were on a school trip taking a cruise with all the kids and teachers with us, and his friend began setting up the scene for him to ask me out. It was horrible, I was so nervous and distraught, I wanted to hide in the bathroom. I told his friend to stop him, because my answer was going to be no. Dating just didn't happen. Not to me. Not with my parents. Not with the way I was taught to carry myself under God's ever watchful eye. We were 16! I cried. I cried so much because I felt bad for him, and I just remember that he was the most caring and understanding 16 year old guy I'd ever heard of. I think we were old souls, but in different ways. After that trip we stayed close. I liked him still, but I was starting to crush on some other boys too. I know that hurt him. For me, boys were so new. Their attention flattered me. I think I liked their attention a little too much. I became the girl the guys liked, but could never really get.
Incoming weird death threat emails. I started getting them from all the guys that I hung out with as friends. Emails spoiling surprise birthday parties for me, emails threatening to chop me up and throw me in the sea. Emails from senders that weren't really the sender. I never found out who they were from, but if I had to bet my life on it, I would bet my life it was crush #2. The crush who told me I was the girl who got away. I think I liked that guy for a long time, but it was too messy after high school. Plus my suspicions about those emails had me just push my feelings away. Spoiler, years later he would fly over to my city for work, and I would introduce him to my husband and child. I forgive him for all that drama, if it was him. We were young and stupid and now, it's sort of the part of my story that adds a little eerie spice. Because of him, I met a wonderful girl who sort of took me under her wing. She was like a big sister who would be with me during one of the hardest times of my life. The year I lived by her, was the most transformative year of my life.
Back to high school. After trying really hard to gain my affection, I think crush/best friend just decided to bury it all and stay friends. I'm sort of glad he did that. My favorite memories in high school are all with him. We talked about life, our dreams, our goals. I wanted to be an international humanitarian lawyer. We applied to all the same colleges together, for the same degree. Sadly, my grades my senior year left me with no offers, and I ended up at my safety school, while crush/best friend went to a college an hour away to pursue a different degree. College started and we began drifting. Sometimes I think back and feel that I can almost pinpoint when exactly he stopped feeling more than friendship for me. I hadn't known how long he had feelings, and when I think back, I feel embarrassed by some of the things that make me feel like I didn't appreciate him enough. Years later, I realize that it's ok to be the bad guy in someone else's story. I never intentionally wanted to hurt anyone. In many ways I think I was naive and selfish. I was too wrapped up in my own drama. College was hard. I missed my family, I missed my home, and it was a real culture shock. There were good times and bad times and also times I was treading new territory, dating. I was 18 now and it was time I could start that. Im embarrassed by my naivety. I did not date for fun. I only wanted to get to know someone if I could see a real future with them. How I ever saw a future with the boys I would meet, I don't know. Naive. That's what I was.
The first guy I met when I came back home over the winter break. He was nice and bought me gifts. But he was sort of aggressive too. I didn't understand it. His friends seemed like good people. I knew them, I'd gone to school with them. To me, they represented him, and that's what I based my summation of his character on. Boy was I wrong. Let's just keep things simple and say, that ended badly. I lost interest in him, then he found his way back, then I should have called the cops on him. He was disgusting. During The time I was away from him, back in college, I met someone else. He was really sweet. But when I ended it with Gross Guy, I sort of told this sweet guy I don't think I was ready for a relationship.
A year and a half into college I realized that I only had a year and a half left and I was sort of getting used to it. I made friends with a group of people from similar backgrounds, we lived together, they respected my limits. I felt good. That summer I met my future husband. It happened at my grandmas house. I didn't instantly fall in love or anything, but I definitely saw him with a few hearts in my eyes. He was cute. He was super funny. Too bad he lived in a place that I never saw myself living. He was nice to look at, but other than that, our worlds were so different. I wasn't going to end up in a small town like his.
Incoming guy number 2. He was from said small town. He sent me some friendly facebook messages. I asked my mom who he was and she painted a pretty sad picture of a guy who was a little lost in life, someone I could be nice to since he was the son of a friend. I was nice to him. But then he seemed really sweet and nice and I felt bad for him. I think I became the typical girl just then. The girl who wants to save the guy. The girl who feels like she can be the girl to change the guy. Only he wasn't the sad kind of lost, he was the too far gone kind. I didn't understand that. Not everyone is in touch with their souls. That became a year from hell for me. I ended things with him because my mom became outraged that I would even think of planning a future with him. But he crawled back into my life, and suddenly everyone turned against me. I couldn't understand what was so wrong about wanting to be with him. I became scared to lose him. We didn't even live in the same country but he got in my head so bad I messed up all my grades and left college devastated, never really properly closing that chapter in my life. I ruined mine and crush/best friend's last day in that country just crying over my grades. I was falling apart. I was losing weight. I was entering second, even bigger depression.
That summer I told my dad about guy number 2. He had been pleading with me to tell him what was wrong. He told me I was disintigrating in front of his eyes and he couldn't understand why. It's one of the first times I ever looked at my dad with different eyes. He wasn't the formidable father. He was love and understanding. So I told him. It took two words from him to make me just give up. I was tired of fighting. Looking back, I was afraid to let go. Everyone had turned their backs on me, or so it felt, and I didn't feel strong enough to go through the sadness alone. But when I finally ended it, everyone was there for me. My mom held me close while I cried, and reassured me that I would be happy again. That year I decided to take more steps in making God proud. I looked back at everything in my life and didn't understand how I could pinpoint so many times of unhappiness. Nothing truly devastating had ever really happened to me, and yet I could never look back and feel that I was a happy person. I realized that if I want God to make me happy, I have to take steps toward Him. So I did.
I read books about Him. I wanted to start from ground 0. I wanted to have faith without a shadow of a doubt. I stopped going to the beach. I wanted to hide my body. Be modest. I became a sponge, trying to find truth in the world. and I resolved that I would never speak to a guy again unless two things were clear: 1. God was an integral part of his life and 2. Hr would be in it for marriage. I was 21 at the time. I was done with college, I was back home, my only friends were my Facebook friends.
I was lost with what to do career/education wise, so I took my much needed "gap semester" to think. I decided to apply to take the New York Bar. In that time I had decided that I was done living alone. If I had to be away from my parents, I wanted to go where I had family. My goal became to live with my grandma in 'small town' where I had tons of cousins. While I worked on that, I moved to work at a law firm in a different country. The same country where the girl I met through crush #2 lived. We became besties. We did everything together. She took me under her wing and was a big sister to me. She filled my life with so many beautiful memories that when I look back at that time, I barely remember the heartbreak I was trying to get over. Sure a few depressing poems came out of that time, but I only remember laughter. Real laughter. It was the time in my life I think I felt truly happy like I imagined I would all those years dreaming up a romantic life after reading one of my novels. I say that mainly because, at that time, I was still holding on to the last traces of the innocence of my youthful idealism. It was the last time I was really on my own turf with my own kind of people before another big change happened. During that time, I was preparing to go to New York. I had all my stuff ready to move for three months and study all of American law in a 6 week course so I could pass the crazy New York Bar and pave the way for myself in 'small town'. At this point, I kept it a secret. If I failed, I didn't want to tell anyone that I failed. Only "big sister" knew from my friends. I'd grown distant with almost everyone else. I think crush/best friend was upset with me for how I spent our last night where we went to college. I didn't know this at the time. I guess it seemed really selfish, the way I just didn't feel remorse for that. Like I said before, I was too wrapped up in my own drama. I wish I could have had a different experience there with him that day. I really do.
On another note, in "small town" a lot of talk was happening. My uncle had fallen in love with someone who was ill suited for him. All his friends got involved to try and stop it. One of those friends was the cute guy from my grandma's house, who Id become facebook Friends with that summer. After letting me know he wanted to speak to my mother, we sort of just stayed in touch. He was funny. He teased me a lot and we laughed a lot at all the funny photos people would post. We talked about life. We talked about God. We talked about death. Here's another thing about me, I never met anyone in the world who thinks about death as much as me until I met cute guy from grandma's house. It was a sadistic point of attraction for me. Only because I'd resolved to find someone who was raw and real and God conscious. He seemed to be that way to me. But we were just Facebook friends who chatted.
Until we started chatting daily.
Until I went to New York and got his number. I needed to tell him something from my mom about my uncle. But that lasted 2 seconds. The rest of the time we just talked.
and talked
and talked.
I had a dream then. In my dream he wanted to make us official.
The next day, my dream came to life. I was shocked. I hadn't expected it even though I felt that it was going there. I played dumb until he had to spell it out for me.
I said yes.
He knew why I was in New York.
He would send these cute little messages to me while I was studying to check up in me.
He hopes my studying is going well...
And I felt sick to my stomach.
I just knew. This was it. This was him. I was gonna marry him.
Every fear I had locked up came rushing back at me.
For one year, I was healing. I was living. I was staying true to my promise, I turned away from guys who came after me because they didn't have God in their life.
And now it was like I was getting my reward, except it was so real and I was scared. I didn't trust myself to know if he would be good for me or not.
I didn't really know anything about his personal life even though we'd been talking for months. One night we were talking about the prospect of a future and he dropped a bomb on me.
I never finished school.
In my worl, that was unheard of. I didn't know anyone who didn't have a college degree at my age. Or was at least pursuing one. I felt torn, I wasn't sure if I could go through any type of battle again. I didn't want another face off with my parents.
I told him that was important to me. I asked him if it was something he would be willing to change. He said yes. Hed always worked hard to get by. He wasn't lazy, but if I felt that it would get in the way of us being together, and if he felt we had real potential, he would go back to school.
The familiar feelings of worry and apprehension and uncertainty would come flooding back at sudden, random times. I just wasn't sure if I wanted to tread this familiar path. Why couldn't it be easy?
I went back and forth in my mind for weeks, but I remember the exact day I realized just how much I liked him. I was in my hotel room with my mom in Albany, a day before I was to finally sit for the Bar Exam. I can't remember who called who, but I was on the phone with him, and I felt this pang in my chest. A physical hurt. The kind you get when you like someone so much and you just can't help it. That didn't change anything except for make me ride the wave. I had the same concerns but I didn't try hard to make anything happen, or not happen. I just let it be.
After those few days, I flew back to where I was working. He promised to come visit me then, and he did. It was supposed to be the trip that determined the fate of our relationship. By that point I was so in my head. My friends sort of drifted, I became wrapped up in the dilemma of how my future would pan out. I was waiting, in extreme limbo, not knowing what my next steps in life would be. Would I pass the bar? Would I have to retake it? Would I be moving to small town? Would I attend graduate school instead? What would happen when, let's call him Future Husband, came to visit?
Future Husband came to visit and I distinctly remember two incidences that can summarize my feelings on how that went. The first one happened while we were walking down the street in a bustling area. It was night time, and Future Husband grabbed me by the shoulders and started kissing me all over my face, bending me back over his arm. A man walked by and Future Husband turned to him and almost yelled, "I love her!" Before kissing me all over my face again. When I think on that now, that's my husband. He has such a boyish quality in him, his expressions of love are so simple. Think of elementary school type flirting. That's my husband.
The other incident lead me to break it off with Future Husband. We were talking about mutual people we knew from "small town". We'd had a day where We talked about my past relationship from there and he was surprised that I'd ever given that guy the time of day. If I had lived there, I'd have known. Someone else came up in that conversation that made him have such a volatile reaction, I was disgusted. And humiliated. Id never seen anyone with such a temper over something so trivial. I felt suffocated and my guard instantly went up. This was going to be a suffocating relationship. I could feel it. I did not want to be a part of it.
The next day I ended it, I cried. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't want to end it but I didn't want to suffer in my future. At first he was so cold and unfeeling. He began walking away, but when he saw me crying he stopped and hugged me. He made a few lame jokes. And I told him I can't live like that. I don't want to live feeling like I need to tread lightly, afraid to set off some sort of explosion. He apologized and I'm not sure when exactly, but one of those nights, he opened up to me about his home life. I remember I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. The wind was knocked out of me. He told me about the infidelity he'd witnessed as a child. He told me it was why he had a hard time trusting people. The way he treated me was as if I had this floodgate of secrets that I was hiding from him. As if I was portraying myself as one thing, and hiding a past that was different. No one in his "small town" went away to school or lived alone the way I had at 18. I was 22 now. He was 25.
I forgave him in my heart. In some ways I even felt embarrassed over the guys I had gotten to know before him. That year was the beginning of me finally seeing the world for what it really was. I'd never really thought people were capable of doing crappy things. I weighed things against myself, and if I couldn't picture taking certain actions, then I wasn't sure why anyone else would. I couldn't see that not all people mean well. I saw myself as naive, but now I see myself as pure. I see how other people saw me and why they were drawn to me when they were. When you get older, it sort of gives you a free pass to be boastful. Although I'm not boasting. I see that as truth. So I basically felt in some parts of my mind, maybe it was my fault for giving these guys the time of day. That's probably why I put up with 4 years of annoying questions from Future Husband. He wasn't overbearing until he became overbearing.
He went back to pursue a college degree. And a year after first starting to get to know him, I told my father about him. He wasn't happy. My mom at that point was supportive. I think she saw he was serious about me and the fact that he was my uncles friend helped quell some fears. My dad could not warm up to the idea, but he told me to spend some time with him. Probably in the hopes that I might see more and come to the realization that we were too different. I was from one world. He was from another. On that time, I'd moved to that town, gotten a job. Oh yea, I passed the bar exam. I was at best friend former crush's house when I found out and Future Husband and mom were the first people I called. It was such a nice moment. I'd told best friend all about it by that point and we hung out again when he was in town. He was dating other girls and I felt that those awkward parts of our life were over. We briefly talked about that last day in college and he let me know how he felt. It was the beginning of me becoming aware that I had maybe been a little self absorbed and taken away something from that experience for him. Maybe it stayed in my mind because I started to become aware of some of the unpleasant ways I may come across to others.
Anyways, I was in small town now, given the okay to get to know Future Husband more. After that time that lead to me breaking it off with him, my defenses never really went down. I never let myself feel too weak. I sort of took the reigns on our relationship. He was happy to let me do it. It's still that way today, I feel. I'm large and in charge, and he sort of enjoys the ride. I like this dynamic. It makes me feel safe. it's what works for us. At that time, however, there would still be the unbearable times of him questioning me as if I was hiding a secret life. I'm happy to say, that ended. His dad sort of talked some sense into him. And I like to think it's also because he understands who I am and was more now. But it sort of created a volatile anger in me. There were times I would explode at him. In my mind I would question everything all over again and feel unsure if I was making the right decision on being with him. If I married someone from back home, would I be going through this?
from all the things I've learned about life and love, life isn't dreamy. Life and people and relationships will always be tested. There isn't a time you ever reach a destination of bliss. That isn't for this world or this life. It's for the next life. In this life you'll always face battles, and I guess it's a matter of what battles you choose, when you can choose. I'm realizing that now after being with Future Husband for a total of 13 years. I used to think that any problems were signs of incompatibility. I would feel confusion and resentment at the fact that I felt like I left a life, a world, that had more to offer me while Future Husband still had everything he loved around him and he wasn't giving me more. More what I don't know. Maybe I wanted him to fill the void that such a big change had left in me. My rose colored glasses, so to speak, felt like they'd been ripped off. And suddenly I was looking at the world and my past life with new realizations and new realities. And I felt that they couldn't coexist. I was mourning my past life and that sadness and frustration just translated to anger. I'm not ready to talk about the next parts of my life yet. Maybe one day I will. I feel strongly in my heart that my husband was destined for me. Dreams and events that led to my fathers acceptance make me feel so. i won't visit those things just yet. But right now I'm this moment, I feel like I'm coming full circle. I'm back home after 10 years. Back in my high school bedroom. none of my friends are here. They've all moved on, some have gotten married, lots of us have lost touch. But I'm realizing that all I really need from this life is a sort of peace. Peace and contentment in the things that are destined for me until all my days are done. And because I don't know how to do it any differently, I will love my Husband For his elementary displays of love, love my parents and siblings for loving me and love my children into the best versions of people they can be until the day I meet my Lord.
