I’m a mother of 1 and 4 year old girls and a 13 year old boy. I became a mom when I was 17 and had to grow up fast. Unfortunately, I still had to live and experience things before I could truly grow up.

I grew up in a rural area in Southwestern Ontario, Canada, until I was 16, after which I moved to a nearby city with my father. I was already going through some heavy things by this point in my life on top of the regular teenage shit-show, so this was just a transition to another heaping pile.

I enrolled in a new high school and the environment was completely different from the more “farm-town” Catholic high school I had just gotten myself expelled from. This was a city high school; the public school system was different and the people were different. I was dealing with anxiety, so all I could do was try to mold into my environment and attach myself to the first person or group of people who showed any particular interest in me. Insert father of my first born here.

I met E (to respect his privacy) in my first period class. I joined him and some of his friends for lunch, exchanged phone numbers etc. etc. Long story short, we started dating, my juvenile brain thought it was love and bingo bango three or so months later I’m knocked up and dropped out. Perfect.

I moved in with my in-laws, so to speak, and had my son. As much as I appreciated the grandparents, I resented them immensely because I lived under their roof, had to abide to their rules and they, in my mind at the time, were overbearing. I had a hard time coping with my living arrangements.

Over the years, E, my son and I moved a total of about 10 times. Many times, we went back to his parents’ house in between our own places. Could we be any more of an unstable embarrassment?

After what seemed like a decade, but was only about 2 1/2 years, the turmoil which was our relationship came to an end after police had to haul him from our home. He called me from jail, apologizing. I almost broke as I usually did, but something in me just didn’t let it happen. Not this time. Surely this wasn’t how the rest of my life was going to play out, and it all started after that phone call.

I started dating a close friend I had met after moving to the city. In the beginning he treated my son and I wonderfully, but as time passed, some of his faults came more to light and couldn’t be ignored.  He started treating my son like a ghost; he stopped spending time with him and didn’t do anything for him; he just completely pulled away. Eventually, this relationship also came to an end after about 2 years.

Let me, in their defense, say that I too contributed to issues in both relationships.  I was immature, emotionally unstable and extremely sensitive. I self-sabatoged and was angry.

I decided that I didn’t want to date for a long time.  I hadn’t been single since I was 15 and my son didn’t deserve to be a bystander to another shitty relationship. However, a friend of mine had the idea that I should get set up with one of her husband’s friends. A blind date – my worst nightmare. Just the thing to set off my anxiety. I reluctantly agreed to the date.

First, my friend added him as a friend on Facebook. That’s right, we totally creeped him before we met.  To this day he says it was only a blind date for him. I, at the time, was 22 and my friend told me my date was about 26.  A few days later, she said she had made a mistake and he was actually 30. In my immature mind at the time, I thought, ‘Wow, he’s going to be old and boring’ (I am laughing as I write this because I recently turned 30 and by no means do I feel old or boring). As date day drew closer, I started thinking ‘What if I like him and he doesn’t like me?’ I could handle that. Then I thought, ‘What if he likes me and I don’t like him?!” I wouldn’t be able to tell him!

We went on a double dinner date with our mutual friends who set us up. I knew shortly in that I really liked him. My friend and I ran off to the washroom together because I could hardly wait to tell her.

That was the start of my life as I know it now.

Later the same year, I took a course at a community college since it didn’t require me to have my high school diploma. After no luck finding a job in my field, I took a part time job in food service. A friend of mine who I met through this job referred me to the company she worked for. I was pregnant with my second child during the interview and had high hopes on getting the job. I did and I have been there for a few years now.

I got tired of the lingering feeling of failure hanging over my head for not graduating high school, so I enrolled in correspondence. Over the next two years I earned all my credits – all while working full time with two kids, being pregnant and then with three kids and am proud to say I have now graduated.

As of January 2017, I have been back to work full time. As much as I wanted to stay home with my babe, at least until she went off to school, it wasn’t in the cards. Now, I have to soak up every moment I can with my kids when we’re all together.

And for the record, my husband is not boring, much to my delight.  :p

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