April | 2011 | Ramblings of a Semi-Conscious Mastermind Mommy

Yesterday I found what I think is my first grey hair. “Is this what I think it is?” I called out to my husband. “What?” he says, “a grey hair? So what?”

So WHAT?? I’ll tell you so what… I’m too young to have any grey hair. I know, I know, plenty of people have grey hair and a whole lot of it and they’re not even close to my age… It doesn’t matter, they’re not me…

Anyway, this month the From Left to Write book club is reading 29 by Adena Halpern. Its about a 75 year old woman who makes a wish on her birthday candle to be 29 again… just for one day. The next day she wakes up and guess what?? Yep, she’s 29 again, but this time no baby body, no droopy boobs or love handles, awesome. 🙂

So of course, I got to thinking, I’m 32. 29 is too close to 32 to wish I was back there again, and my life was pretty much the same back then as it is now, only my kids were a little younger. And maybe I didn’t have this one grey hair. I think if I could go back to any age it would be 15. Just so I can smack some sense into myself.

Now I admit, I had a pretty happy childhood. My mom was a SAHM (like me) and my Dad worked in the city. They worked hard to give my brother and I what we wanted and we were never without what we needed.

I was 14 when I started dating seriously. My first steady boyfriend dumped me at his cousin’s sweet sixteen party and broke my heart. I was 15 when I started dating his best friend, we’ll call him “Ted”. Ted wasn’t really my type, but I wanted to get back at his friend and show him what he was missing. It all went downhill from there. We only dated for about six or seven months, but it was probably the worst six or seven months of my life.

Ted was not a nice guy. He was mean and degrading. He played with my young mind and had me believing that he was it. There was no one else in the world out there for me. He fucked me up but good. He “confessed” to cheating on me (which he really didn’t) and used to tell me stories about how his father would have flashbacks of the Vietnam war and chase him around the house with a butcher knife.

My family and friends tried to tell me. They tried to warn me, to open my eyes, but of course a victim of abuse doesn’t see the truth until they are ready.

There was another boy in my life at that that time that I had a crush on but I didn’t dare make a move while I was with Ted. He was insanely jealous and controlling. He would turn on me at the drop of a hat and there was no reasoning with him.

During that time my mother stopped talking to me. She was hurt and disappointed in me. She wanted me to stand up for myself and break up with this boy, but I refused. Toward the end he’d even given me a promise ring. Can you imagine? Engaged at 15?? I was quite the dumbass back then.

When I finally did break up with him, he cried and cried. I told him it wasn’t forever, that we were just taking a break. Big. Fat. Fucking. Lie. The next day I had plans to meet that other boy for lunch. I had no intention of going back to Ted. It was over.

Thinking about it now, I’m sorry that I put myself through that abusive relationship. I’m sorry I strained all those friendships for that asshole. I’m sorry I disappointed my mom and lost her for that short period of time.

But I don’t think I would change it.

A month later, I started dating the man who would become my husband. The man who would father my two beautiful children and who will still do anything to make us happy.

Ok, maybe I would have made a move with that other boy when I met him for lunch, just to see what it was like, but other than that, I’m good.

I’m a firm believer of everything happens for a reason. This situation happened upon me to teach me something and I think I learned the lesson in it.

So, I guess I’ll take my one grey hair and go about my business. And maybe NOT wish on my birthday candles. 🙂

This is an original ROSCMM post and was written for the From Left to Write Book Club. This post was inspired by 29 by Adena Halpern, a copy of which I received free from the publisher for the purposes of this book club, and no, you can not steal my content unless you specifically ask me for it first. It’s called copyright, yo.