(no subject)
I was given the name Holly Moore, not because I was born around Christmas, but because my Mom liked it. I grew up trying to live the life of a spoiled brat, crying whenever I didn't get what I wanted, telling my parents I hated them because I couldn't have a bowl of ice cream at 11 p.m. and stealing toys from my brother and sister.
I got out of that faze real fast. My parents had a way with me. They worked hard to teach me right from wrong, and they were sucessfull.
Ask anyone who knew me as a child I was the epitome of essentric. By the age os three I had an imaginary friend that went by the name of Amanday. Yes, a-man-day. She was a blast. At least that's what my grandma tells me. I went everywhere with her, did everything with her, and blamed everything on her. And never once did my parents tell me she didn't exist. They just let me do my thing. Amanday was gone when I started school. I have no reccolection of her today.
I remember my early elementary years vividly. I'd wake up and wash my face and my grandma would drive me to the bus stop, but I would make her park down the street until the school bus came. She always wanted to stand outside with me, but I wouldn't let her. I guess that's where the independence starts.
The indepence progressed when my mom left. My poor dad went to the ends of the earth to make sure my brother and I were happy. He worked six days a week and gave us a life we loved. We'd ride bikes at the park and go to the drive in on the weekends. He was perfect and I adored him.
I'd stay home with my brother while dad was at work. We'd play outside with the neighborhood kids and be inside by 6 p.m. everynight. We learned how to cook and how to clean and how to take care of ourseolves during these years. We took our dad's love for granted.
Junior high started and I lost track of what really mattered. My family. I had too many friends and there were too many boys and they just were not on my list of priorities. It's really a shame. It must have been three years before I smacked my self in the face and realized that I have been so blessed. It was too late to rebuild a relationship with my dad, but I did my best to let the rest of my family know I cared for them.
Dad got remarried my freshman year in highschool. I hated her. She was into weird crackers and gourmet cheese and running marathons. She did so much for me. I rejected her. They were married for barely a year. She moved away. I missed her more than i could have imagined. She's my best friend now.
Dad promised us he wouldn't get married again. Not until Jack and I were out of the house at least. It was going to be us three again. Just like the good old days. Six months later he'd gotten pretty serious with his girlfriend. Word on the street is they're getting married. He never even asked me. He promised.
I'm now sixteen years old wondering whether or not I am allowed to be happy. I know, it's a foolish question. I know I am happy. God, more than you'd understand, but I feel guilty for it. I know it's stupid, but whatever, it's the truth.
I couldn't handle highschool. I couldn't even tell you what it was about it that I hated so much. I mean, I got good grades, I took challenging courses, I was involved in sports and class office, I just dispised it. I am convinced now that I wouldn't let myself enjoy it. I think a lot of teenagers do that.
Now I am homeschooled and doing well, starting college next semister. On a path to graduate early. The most common thing I have been hearing lately is that I am growing up too fast, throwing my youth away. It's too hard to convince them that I'm not. You don't have to live a typical life to be living and enjoying your teeange years. Not to mention, I grew up ten years ago.
The day I turned sixteen was the day I was financially cut off and the day I got a job. Two, infact. I live life payckeck to paycheck, like most working young adults. Some weeks go better than others. By the time I am eighteen I hope I'll be able to have a little apartment with someone else and pay a car payment and insurance. High hopes? Whatever, at least I have a goal. I've got a lot of faith in myself as a matter of fact.
I'm finally out of debt as of today. The governer is bathing in $800 dollars I had to pay because I am a shitty driver. Two traffic tickets in three months. If that doesn't teach you a lesson, I don't know what will. It's sad how money will physically and mentally weigh you down until you don't have to worry about it any longer. Which means it'll always weigh you down becuase it is the main focus in our culture. Kind of depressing, but true none the less.
My friends are so good to me. They're all so genuine and people I aspire to be. Intelligent, funny, sucessfull, determined. I couldn't imagine surrounding myself with people who are more diverse and who get along so well. Your friend could loose your car keys in a river while you're all camping and you're not going to hate him, you're just going to think about your options and forgive them. Even if your options include sitting in traffic for 3 hours while it's 100 degrees outside to go home and get your spare. And sometimes your boyfriend is going to be, well, intoxicated, and hes going to do some really stupid things and you're going to laugh about it in the morning because it's just not worth it to be stressed out or mad about things like that. And you and your best friend are going to grow apart and it's going to kill you but there's nothing you can do except take that extra five munutes to call her and see how she's been and how her and her new love interest are working out and makes dates to go get tea and becasue you know she loves it. And you're going to make up some of the stupidest dances with some of your friends and you're going to bring him glasses of water when he's had a long night, and those are the things you do with someone you care about. And God life is beautiful, and I hope you've got a friend with a really comfortable bed because there will be somedays where you're going to sleep in it for three hours at a time, just because.
There was no point to this.
It's just after 4 a.m. and I'm going to work.
I got out of that faze real fast. My parents had a way with me. They worked hard to teach me right from wrong, and they were sucessfull.
Ask anyone who knew me as a child I was the epitome of essentric. By the age os three I had an imaginary friend that went by the name of Amanday. Yes, a-man-day. She was a blast. At least that's what my grandma tells me. I went everywhere with her, did everything with her, and blamed everything on her. And never once did my parents tell me she didn't exist. They just let me do my thing. Amanday was gone when I started school. I have no reccolection of her today.
I remember my early elementary years vividly. I'd wake up and wash my face and my grandma would drive me to the bus stop, but I would make her park down the street until the school bus came. She always wanted to stand outside with me, but I wouldn't let her. I guess that's where the independence starts.
The indepence progressed when my mom left. My poor dad went to the ends of the earth to make sure my brother and I were happy. He worked six days a week and gave us a life we loved. We'd ride bikes at the park and go to the drive in on the weekends. He was perfect and I adored him.
I'd stay home with my brother while dad was at work. We'd play outside with the neighborhood kids and be inside by 6 p.m. everynight. We learned how to cook and how to clean and how to take care of ourseolves during these years. We took our dad's love for granted.
Junior high started and I lost track of what really mattered. My family. I had too many friends and there were too many boys and they just were not on my list of priorities. It's really a shame. It must have been three years before I smacked my self in the face and realized that I have been so blessed. It was too late to rebuild a relationship with my dad, but I did my best to let the rest of my family know I cared for them.
Dad got remarried my freshman year in highschool. I hated her. She was into weird crackers and gourmet cheese and running marathons. She did so much for me. I rejected her. They were married for barely a year. She moved away. I missed her more than i could have imagined. She's my best friend now.
Dad promised us he wouldn't get married again. Not until Jack and I were out of the house at least. It was going to be us three again. Just like the good old days. Six months later he'd gotten pretty serious with his girlfriend. Word on the street is they're getting married. He never even asked me. He promised.
I'm now sixteen years old wondering whether or not I am allowed to be happy. I know, it's a foolish question. I know I am happy. God, more than you'd understand, but I feel guilty for it. I know it's stupid, but whatever, it's the truth.
I couldn't handle highschool. I couldn't even tell you what it was about it that I hated so much. I mean, I got good grades, I took challenging courses, I was involved in sports and class office, I just dispised it. I am convinced now that I wouldn't let myself enjoy it. I think a lot of teenagers do that.
Now I am homeschooled and doing well, starting college next semister. On a path to graduate early. The most common thing I have been hearing lately is that I am growing up too fast, throwing my youth away. It's too hard to convince them that I'm not. You don't have to live a typical life to be living and enjoying your teeange years. Not to mention, I grew up ten years ago.
The day I turned sixteen was the day I was financially cut off and the day I got a job. Two, infact. I live life payckeck to paycheck, like most working young adults. Some weeks go better than others. By the time I am eighteen I hope I'll be able to have a little apartment with someone else and pay a car payment and insurance. High hopes? Whatever, at least I have a goal. I've got a lot of faith in myself as a matter of fact.
I'm finally out of debt as of today. The governer is bathing in $800 dollars I had to pay because I am a shitty driver. Two traffic tickets in three months. If that doesn't teach you a lesson, I don't know what will. It's sad how money will physically and mentally weigh you down until you don't have to worry about it any longer. Which means it'll always weigh you down becuase it is the main focus in our culture. Kind of depressing, but true none the less.
My friends are so good to me. They're all so genuine and people I aspire to be. Intelligent, funny, sucessfull, determined. I couldn't imagine surrounding myself with people who are more diverse and who get along so well. Your friend could loose your car keys in a river while you're all camping and you're not going to hate him, you're just going to think about your options and forgive them. Even if your options include sitting in traffic for 3 hours while it's 100 degrees outside to go home and get your spare. And sometimes your boyfriend is going to be, well, intoxicated, and hes going to do some really stupid things and you're going to laugh about it in the morning because it's just not worth it to be stressed out or mad about things like that. And you and your best friend are going to grow apart and it's going to kill you but there's nothing you can do except take that extra five munutes to call her and see how she's been and how her and her new love interest are working out and makes dates to go get tea and becasue you know she loves it. And you're going to make up some of the stupidest dances with some of your friends and you're going to bring him glasses of water when he's had a long night, and those are the things you do with someone you care about. And God life is beautiful, and I hope you've got a friend with a really comfortable bed because there will be somedays where you're going to sleep in it for three hours at a time, just because.
There was no point to this.
It's just after 4 a.m. and I'm going to work.