Life · Personal

In the beginning….

I don’t know about you but I am not a writer. Yet my life is an interesting story. So I should share the information. For some it is a tale for entertainment. For others is may be multiple sad moments tied into many more unfortunate ones. While it might make you cry and parts might even make you laugh I just ask you of one thing: do not feel pity for me. Better than that learn from other mistakes that I may depict throughout this time as well as many of my own mistakes.

I recommend grabbing a cup of tea (I prefer green tea myself) and curling up in a private space of yours as I tell you the beginning of my journey.
I plan on breaking this story up quite a bit seen as it began almost 23 tears ago. Now that’s a whole lot to write about isn’t it? I plan to write a piece each week. But keep in touch because in between the story I will visit you at times to relay my day and other things on my mind. So feel free to check in every couple of days.
Okay I am finished rambling. I do tjat quite a bit by the way. Lets begin shall we?
I am not sure when exactly I noticed we weren’t an ordinary family I have always know every family was different in their own way, however some things with us were different beyond what time we ate dinner or if my parents were more friends than parents. No, even as a child I felt an unsettling realization that our family was different than the next. I didn’t fully understand what this meant though until I got older.
My mother was extremely beautiful. Long red hair large eyes and a curvy figure. She was a firecracker too! I loved that woman. She was my hero. Well into my teenage years it was our evening tradition to curl up together and watch t.v. She had this crazy way of making me laugh and killed me when as a child she would blow on my belly making fart noises. That woman was so independent and hard headed. These attributes I inherited from her. We had a very good mother daughter relationship. It was loving, mature, fun and encouraging. She knew how to be a mother and how and when to be a friend. It stayed a good relationship as I got older too.
Then there was my father. His and my relationship was quite different. It wasnt bad exactly just, it wasnt strong. As the years went on, in fact it because just plain awkward. Later the awkwardness turned into inappropiateness and abuse. But we will get more into that later.
I had a sister too. Perfect family with 1.2 kids and a dog type of concept. Anyways, Annabelle was 17 months older than I was and kept me constantly jealous of everything she was and everything she did. Whereas I was a chunky child, she was thing with precise features and brown eyes. I even remember her fingers were long and slender. She was more shy than I was though which cased me to capture more friends throughout school, but she was funnier and so when my friends would meet her they eventually hovered towarfs her more than myself.
Her relationship was one with our dad that mine could never be. Similarly mine was one with our mother that hers would never be.
We started out as a church going family with both kids in a private Christian school who spent every weekend with their grandparents. Nice right?
My grandparents were on my mothers side. My father had no family he spoke to. His mother had been wildly abusive and he was adopted in his younger years. Into a family he no longer communicated with and in no way considered them any family of his

Okay, so that pretty much introduces you to the main characters in this story so I believe I will leave off there.I will try to write the next part this weekend sometime. In the meantime stay tuned for any day-to-day messages I will probably post a lot of my health tips etc.

I have been on a fitness and such since September and have lost 10 pounds so I am willing to share that information. Tonight I am making a delicious healthy dinner so I will post that up as well.

Please follow and share as much as you can I appreciate it and will follow back.

I’m out!

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