The Day Before My Birthday: Happy Birthday To Me!
Hello Internet World,
Tomorrow is my birthday. My 20th birthday to be exact; and I felt like I should express my feelings and emotions going into such an illustrious time. I just feel that I should use this entry to express just how happy I am at this point in my life. This is a milestone that I won't ever do again. I am going to be 20 years old. I plan for this to be my year.
When I was younger I was a very vocal, bubbly, exuberant, happy-go-lucky kid. There wouldn't be a day where you couldn't find a smile on my face. I was always talking to any random stranger, whether it was to say "hello" or to introduce myself. There was never a person that I wouldn't talk to.
However, at the age of 8 my mother was diagnosed with cancer. I had zero inkling of what was going on or why. No one wanted to give the kid the idea that her mother had a slim chance of survival I suppose, which I can completely understand with me being at such a young age. Though, looking back I wish I had at least some kind of clue as to what was to occur so I could have prepared in my own juvenile way; spend more time at the hospital, invited my mother to a field day rather than be embarrassed to have my mom watch me race for my life. There are a lot of things that I regret but I was to young and simple minded to foresee my life beyond my school playground. She passed a year later.
My parents were never married, heck the barely even dated from what I have gathered; but I do know that they loved me. So immediately after my mother's death there was a custodial disagreement. One that went on for months. In my mother's will it had been stipulated that I get to choose who I wanted to live with: my father or my mother's sister. I didn't want to upset my dad but also didn't want to upset my aunt as well. Of course, with me being the sole person responsible for my future at the time, I just couldn't choose. However, my family, both sides, made it harder on me. With both somewhat unintentionally or intentionally, whatever you may call it, bribing me to stay on their sides with trips out of town or birthday parties and gifts. In the end I chose my dad.
Unbeknownst to me, I didn't fully realize that when I decided to stay with my dad that I was also moving in with his sister in the next town over. Since my dad works a wonky schedule where he would switch off night and day shifts. This in turn meant that I mainly had to stay with his sister during the week, stay at my mother's sister every other weekend, and stay with my dad whenever he felt he wanted to keep me. I had originally a few months prior graduated up from primary school into our elementary school. However, after my mother's death I had to change schools again. I had to leave my best friend, the one I've ever really had behind. But I enjoyed my new school, I loved that school. Even though I was in a totally different environment, a new town I still was able to make tons of friends and I was happy, oh boy was I happy. Was enjoying field days, racking up my blue and red ribbons in every yard dash that was optioned. Enjoying the crappy school lunches. Enjoying my teachers and my classes. Enjoying the friendship that I had made in such a sort time. Then I had to switch schools, again.
My dad said that I needed a better education or something of the sort, that this new school would bring me better opportunities. I can look back and say that I understand why he made me change schools; it just was NOT the right time. Wrong time. To be honest I resented him for years for that, stupid resentment. Unnecessary resentment. But I still hated it nevertheless. As soon as I walked in that building I didn't speak. I wanted to show my dad just how much I hated this decision. I wanted to scream at him, yell to the rooftops that I was not happy. But I said nothing. I just stopped caring.
I had been transferred into this new elementary magnet school my 5th grade year. This school was supposed to bring the best out me, it was guaranteed to lead me into a bright future of learning. But I just didn't care. The very first day I was a nervous wreck, so much so that I didn't speak a word to anyone. Could barely even speak when the teacher asked for my name. It was that first day that I stopped talking. I thought in my stupid child head that if my dad noticed how unhappy I was that he would let me go back to my previous school. That was such a stupid thought on my part. All that clamming up did was put me into a shell. A shell that I am still even to this day ten years later trying to escape from.
I had no friends at this school. No, I wasn't picked on or thrown into a locker; I just blended in like wallpaper. It was like I wasn't there. I wouldn't talk to anyone and no one would talk to me. I cried once or twice during this year. I was fine at home I guess, but at school I was nothing more but a face in the crowd. See that's the thing, I guess I was so great at putting up a front that I suppose my family didn't even notice. But I sucked it up, I was only a few months shy of getting out of there and moving onto middle school. However, that wasn't much better.
I had thought that I could get over this year of silence and have a fresh start. I couldn't. During my three year stint at this school I probably talked to all of three people on a consistent basis. A few acquaintances? Sure. Legitimate friends? No. My dad gave me a cell phone but I had no one to call or text. I could go weeks without sending or receiving a call that wasn't directed to my father or aunt. I had no one to talk to. No one to share my thoughts on the latest celebrity gossip to. No one to talk about fashion or hair with. No one. I could have spoken up, maybe make a friend or two but I just...couldn't. It was like my mouth was sewn shut. I'd break out into a nervous tizzy any and every time I was even spoken to. I guess I had worked myself in my own silent bubble.
My first two years of high school weren't much better. Every day was just another day that would dissolve into nothingness. I was going through the motions. Unless I was in my room, nothing rarely brought genuine smile to my face. I didn't get invited to slumber parties or get asked out on dates. I was just one of those invisible faces in the crowd that you would never notice. I just didn't speak. I guess one could say that I became slightly depressed. No not to any extreme point but I did have moments where I would inquire if anyone would even notice if I were gone. I had pulled away from everyone. I had low self-esteem, trouble looking people in the eye when spoken to, trouble making friends; I could barely walk with my head held high. I locked myself away into my room. I rarely came out if only to get food or to use the restroom. In my room I would watch tv, read magazines, or typing away at my computer until the early hours of the morning. I wasn't doing anything inappropriate; I was just in my own space; in my own lonely corner trying to make "fun" for myself. I just became a hallow shell of what I once was. And no one even seemed to notice. No true questions asking of my REAL feelings. I guess I had made my behavior the norm. I wanted to scream out that I wasn't happy with myself but I kept clammed up. I didn't want to appear as if I wanted to draw attention to myself or my problems.
It wasn't until the summer before my junior year where it finally hit me. I'm not going to get better unless I MAKE myself better. I couldn't depend on anyone to relay my inner troubles with. So I finally realized that it was ME that needed to fix my problems. It was then my personal goal to go out and try. To try and make a friend. Speak to people. Look these people in the eye. To open up. Communicate. Things that may seem so very simple to most, but was an absolute struggle for me.
Oh boy, did I struggle. I could barely speak without stumbling over my words. I couldn't talk without my heart tumbling into my throat. I couldn't converse without averting my eyes. Even with all of these things telling me no, I made sure I stuck with my plan. I would not be happy if I didn't make at least one friend that year. One friend.
I did. My junior year was actually pretty awesome. I met some new people. Made some new friends. I was breaking out. I was smiling more. Senior year went along the same way. Made more friends. Met knew people. Breaking out more. I still never hung out with any of these people, met there parents, did the normal teen things with these people; but I still felt good with my progress. Throughout my entire teenage years up until I left for college, I had only time I had ever hung out with people outside of school was one stint at the movies with a few friends. One time. One single moment that I can claim when mentioning childhood friends or experiences. The one time that I can bring up and truly feel that I had a successful teenage life. I'll never forget that because even though I never went out anywhere again before I hit college, I can still say that I had a blast. I'll cherish that.
College. Oh my goodness college. It was what I needed. A fresh start. A new setting. I went into my freshman year adamant to succeed. I was going to make the best of this opportunity. I may not pay my own bills, have a job, or drive a car but I've always felt a sense of independence since I was in my earlier teen. I did what what I want on my own time, I made my own decisions and I kept up with my studies. Now I've never done a bad deed in my life, unless you want to count me peaking at my Christmas presents days before I was supposed to open them. However, I've always had this, do my own thing mentality. Not depend on people other than my father and aunts, obviously because they house and feed me. But going off to college was like a dream come true.
I had never had a place where I stayed in more than four days a week. I would stay at my dad's sister Monday-Wednesday; stay with m y dad Thursday-Saturday;go back to to his sisters Sunday-Tuesday;go to his house Wednesday-Thursday; and stay with my mom's sister Friday-Sunday; rinse and repeat. There was no constant in my life. It was go here, go there. I had no say, I just went with the flow because I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I was long since over this ship Kayla off to the next house game that I was being played in. I was over it. Moving to my college campus has finally given me a constant in my life. I don't have to move around like I had done for the past nine years of my life. I had somewhere I felt to call "home" since I was 9.
My childhood wasn't rough by any means. I wasn't teased, bullied, or abused. I was surrounded by great authority figures who cared for me. I have two families that love me and treat me well. But I still just wish someone had taken notice and questioned me. Questioned me why I never went out. Questioned me why I didn't go to prom/ when was prom. Questioned me why I never had any friends come to the house. Questioned why once I returned home from school at four I never went anywhere. Questioned if I was ok? Upset? Sad? I suppose with the constant traveling I did from house to house no one bothered to ask or just didn't notice.
I have learned so much about myself throughout this past year and a half. I still sometimes have trouble looking someone in the eye when speaking to them and I still sometimes get flustered when conversing with a person I don't know. However, after that first meeting I'm good to go. I'm sociable. I'm always laughing, always trying to make others laughs. I'm becoming that same bubbly clown that I once was. It had taken me years to get to where I was so I know it can't completely be erased overnight but I'm so much happier now. There's not a hour that goes by anymore that I'm not smiling. It'll take a little time before I can say that I am fully on track to become the person I know I can be but I know I'm getting there.
So this was my long drawn out memoir of my life. It was completely unnecessary but I just....felt that it needed to be put into text. I know that by writing this down I can put the old me behind me. I'm turning 20 years old in an hour and forty three minutes. I'm going to make this my year, no if, ands, or buts. it's going to be my year to get everything back on track. To forget about my past and move forward in my life. To become the woman that I am becoming. To grow. To maybe get that first kiss (if not, who care lol). To be at that point where my former self is a complete afterthought. This may be my story so far but it's far from over. The only way to go is up and I'm excited for one hell of a ride