I never thought that I would be considered a "Teen Mom." That title was for girls 16 and under. That kind of thinking all changed when I was watching MTV and Teen Mom came on. My husband walked up to me and pointed out that I could be on that show. Me???? On Teen Mom? But I'm too old! I mean I'm 18! I was 18 when I got pregnant and 18 when I had my daughter. But then it hit me. I was still a teenager even if I wasn't the youngest one to have a child.
This blog is my past, my present, and my future. My struggles and successes. My husband, children, and family. If my stories end part way through them then don't worry, I will come back to them.
My biological mom was definitely what I call a teen mom. She got pregnant at the age of 12 with my older sister. After having my sister she met my biological father and popped me out at the age of 14. I was a failure to thrive and my parents were unable to take care of me. So off I went to a foster home. When I was two and a half my foster parents adopted me. They were unable to have children of their own and already had two adopted kids when I joined their family. My older brother and sister. Shortly after adopting me they added one more to the gang. My little brother. Now both of my brothers and my sister were all half siblings. I was the only "odd" one. This didn't cause any problems though.
When I was 16 I met my future husband. I was dating my first boyfriend and he had invited me over to his friends house for a barbecue. Since I was busy that evening we ended up skyping each other. Kyle, my future husband was also there that evening. After my boyfriend left to watch a movie with all of the other guests, I stayed up all night getting to know Kyle. We quickly became best friends. We gave each other relationship advice, told our deepest secrets, and yes flirted. We were terrible together. Kyle would tell me steamy stories of what he would do to me if he had me alone and I would send him pictures of me with almost nothing on. We loved each other, but we were best friends.
Now my parents were very strict people. I wasn't allowed to hang out with guys (even my boyfriends), I couldn't go to sleepovers, etc. So when I started dating my second boyfriend he started slipping me out of the house at night so that we could actually spend time together. Now my parents were already upset with the way I was dressing. The rule was no shoulders showing, nothing above the knees, and it had to go all the way up to our collar bone. Well I decided to wear shorts, tank tops, and heels. When they found out that I was slipping out at night they were infuriated. More rules was my consequence. So I began to run away, but always gave up and went to the police station to get a ride home. My little brother was not living with us anymore. My parents had sent him to a group home at the age of twelve for talking back to my mom. On one of his visits home he sexually abused me. This tore me up, made me depressed and suicidal. I thought that maybe if I wrote what had happened down and hid it I would forget about it. But one day after running away my mom decided to go through all of my journals and papers and found the story of what had happened. This made me angry and want to run away more. One of the nights that I was with my boyfriend he had convinced me to give up my virginity. I told Kyle, who had lost his just days earlier. I was hoping that I would lose my virginity to him and I later found out that that was what he wanted too. Neither of us thought that we would go that far with each other though. So after he lost his I decided to lose mine. He was already angry with himself for losing his and took his anger out on me telling me he never wanted to talk to me again. That didn't stop me though. I would still text him every day and he would grudgingly text me back. After a while of running away my parents had finally had enough. So on July 27, 2009 I was woken up at four a.m. by two ex cops and escorted to a boarding school for troubled teens.
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