My Happy Life

In the Spring of 2011, my parents got a divorce. I was thirteen years old and it was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to experience. I can remember like it was yesterday when my mother sat me down and confessed the tragic news. Going through something that horrific, I would never wish divorce on anyone. Being a child of divorce, I went though the divorce differently than my mother and father did. With both parents being separated in different homes, I had to choose who I wanted to stay with on the nightly. It was a bad situation because both parents were going through such a destructive time, yet both desired always to be with my sister and I. That was the most painful and challenging decision I would have to daily make. I never

Growing up, I never lived in a steady household. My biological mother moved us around, had different men coming in and out of our lives, endured physical abuse from my biological father, and threatened to end her life countless of times, leaving my siblings to take the reins, and not only take care of the house, but me and themselves as well. None of us had it easy, but being the youngest, and the only one who lived at home until I was eighteen, I seemed to bear the brunt of it all. At such a young age, I began to become less and less happy, no longer enjoying the finer things in life. Due to my emotions plummeting, not only did my opinion on myself began to change, but apparently so did the opinion of others, resulting in a major shift in appearance. As time passed, I received numerous amounts of negative commentary on the change of both my appearance and personality, which did nothing but enhance the self loathe I had for myself, leading to the

My parents' divorce was one of my most significant life events. As a result of my parents' divorce, I lived in a divided home. I spent part of my time with my father (usually weekends and a few holidays) and part of my time with my mother (weekdays and other major holidays). Unlike other children my age, who tended to conceive of their parents as infallible well into adolescence, I understood at a young age that my parents were not perfect. My mother frequently criticized my father and vice versa. At first, I felt resentful towards both of them for shattering my world. It was uncomfortable and awkward having to deal with both of them when the anger of the divorce was still festering.

During my mid-teens my family went through a lot of changes. My parents had separated and divorced,

Growing up I never had the typical childhood. My parents had me when they were still teenagers in High School. They were not financially stable enough to take care of me, considering they were young and had no jobs. My mother dropped out to start working and my dad got his GED at an adult school before he started to work. For a while we were living in a motel because my parents were not on good terms with their own parents at the time. Although I was too young to remember our lives in the motels, I gathered enough insight on how it was for my parents, and it was not pretty. Since my parents were never together officially, after the motel stage, we never slept in the same house all together. My mom eventually moved in with my sisters dad, which

"Darn it, Mitch! You don 't care about anyone but yourself and that stupid job! I

When I was 5 years old my parents got a divorce. Being an only child and watching my parents fight was hard for me. I never understood why my dad left until I was older. I come from a small town in central Texas called Goldthwaite. With a population of less than 2000, everyone becomes your friend and enemy within one day. Everyone knew who I was and who my parents were. Even though my dad was not in the picture, half of the town still knew who he was. At age 15 I started high school. I felt like I was on top of the world. I had a boyfriend, a popular last name, and I was also a twirler for the band. That changed very quickly. My mom started drinking just like she did when I was younger except this time it was worse. It wasn’t just

My parents have been divorced since I was the age of two. Being a child of divorce is all I’ve ever known and growing up I felt different than many of my friends. I never like having to explain my family situations to my friends because most of them did not understand what it was like to have divorced parents. I began to resent my parents for being divorce and wished it had never happened. However, as I continued to grow and mature my family began to grow; my mom got remarried and so did my dad. I gained a new stepdad, stepmom, two step siblings, and a half-brother. Looking back on it now I do not remember why I was so upset with my parents for their divorce; all I see now is the positive things it has brought into my life. I have gained so

“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning.” - Albert Einstein. I was an ecstatic kid when I was younger. Always waking up at the crack of dawn, putting my swim trunks and floaties on, and then going and waiting by the gate of our pool until someone let me in. My other obsession was Elmo. I was given a stuffed Elmo that was bigger than me, when I was little, that I played with all of the time. Played football and baseball at an early age. I was better than most kids because I was bigger than all of them. Unfortunately my parents got divorced when I was in the second grade. After this, we moved from town to town, but always staying in Gibson County. I was torn between two parents,

Back in 2008 my life changed drastically. My parents decided to get a divorce because it apparently wasn't working out. On september 16th after dinner my parents called me and my sister into the living room to talk to us. Me being only eight years old didn't really know what was going on and neither did my sister. We sat down and my dad began to tell us about them splitting up. I remember when my dad said that they were splitting up my sister began to cry. My dad continued to tell us that they would try to make this as easy as they could and try to put the least amount of stress on me and my sister as possible.

My parents got divorced about eight years ago. For my younger sisters and me, we didn't quite exactly understand the emotional toll that it would take on our family at the time with us being such a young age. The first night sleeping at what I now had to call “my dad’s house” was unsettling knowing just one of my parents was in the house. In my little grade school mind, I was mainly concerned with the fact that my family would never be normal again and that I would be embarrassed to tell my friends that I lived in two separate

My parents got divorced when I was two years old. I had a hard time with it. I didn’t know of the circumstances until about a year ago. Throughout the majority of that time I suffered from severe depression and anxiety. For years, I suffered in silence, hoping that it would just go away. I pushed away what I felt. Eventually though, I couldn’t do it anymore. I had no interest in socializing, or in participating in activities I once

When I was in 8th grade my parents told me and my brother that they were getting a divorce. When they told us all I can remember was me burying me head in my arms and crying. Crying so much that I couldn't look at my parents because I was afraid, afraid to have to live the rest of my life knowing that we couldn't be a family again. When I went back to school the next day the shock of the divorce never kicked in until that moment. At the time all I wanted was someone to talk to. But whenever I tried to talk to someone about it I would burst into tears, I couldn't bring myself to tell someone because I didn't want to face the truth that my parents wouldn't get back together again. I remember teachers taking me to the office to talk to the counselor and everyone just seemed to stare at me not knowing that everything in my world was falling apart. I can still remember that day like it was yesterday like a scar that never went away. For me I wanted people to help me through it I wanted my parents affection I wanted my parents to tell me things were going to get better. But I never seemed to get that, my parents didn't know how to help me and at the time I think they were more invested in their own grief then my grief. Instead they got me a therapist to talk to and although at the time they thought they were helping me it instead made me feel more unwanted and unimportant to them. All I ever wanted was my parents to be holding me tightly so that all the pain would go away. I

I was eleven years old when my parents sat me down and told me they were getting a divorce. This had been coming for a long time, as I knew they were exceedingly unhappy. My father had been terrorizing my family with verbal abuse for as long as I could remember. My mom and my brother are the type to avoid conflict at all cost but, they have the most lovely personalities I have ever encountered. My father had easy control over them; I was the problem. I am very much like my father, fiery temper and all. When I was about eight, I looked my father right in the eye and told him not to speak to my mother that way. I was the only one in my family who ever spoke up for anyone and boy, did that make him livid.

At first introduction I am seen as perpetually cheerful and high energy. Coworkers, friends and acquaintances recognize quickly that I am fiercely competitive, passionate about my work, and easily classified as Type A personality. It is clear from my Instagram account I am obsessed with the outdoors; from skiing and hiking to mountain biking and camping, I search for adventure as often as possible. My Facebook is littered with photos of my four-year-old’s choice in outfits and silly quotes showing her viewpoint on the world. (“I’m a strong, interpendent woman!” is a recent favorite.) What many people don’t know, however, is the laundry list of traumas and tragedies I have endured. I often get the shocked deer-in-the-headlights look when someone finds out both my parents died within two years of each other. When it comes out that I married young to escape my emotionally abusive mother, just to realize my husband was also abusive, the comment is usually on how courageous it must have been to file for divorce and leave with my young toddler in tow. It is not uncommon to hear the exclamation, “But how are you so happy still?” after hearing of my multiple miscarriages.