Where I'm From.

I lived in the same small town from the age of two until I went to college at 18. Less than 3,000 people made up the entire population, and I graduated with a class of around 60. My dad was the banker in town...the president of literally the only bank there. This meant that basically everyone knew him...and by default, knew who I was.

I was watched, constantly. Not only by my overprotective parents, but by everyone else as well. My parents knew everything I'd done before I even walked through the door five minutes later. It was a strange way to grow up, but it was all I knew. It gave me a false sense of security, and probably of entitlement. I was one of the "rich girls" in town with a nice car and a big house. There wasn't a lot of that in my hometown.

But one thing that my parents always made sure I knew is that I was no better than anyone else. Because I wasn't. If I would have lived just 30 minutes away in Tulsa, we would have been your average upper middle class family. We may have been more fortunate than others, and I was well aware of that, but I hope and pray that I never, ever came across as snobby or stuck up.

In a small school there aren't a whole lot of "cliques". There typically are just "the popular kids"...no jocks or skaters or potheads or cheerleaders. Sure, we had all of those things, but none of that determined who was popular and who wasn't. I'm really not sure what did. Even though I fell in line with the more popular group, I truly believed I was a friend to everyone. I've always been on the quieter side, a little more shy especially at a young age, and I'm afraid that may have come across as something that it wasn't. But I do know that I had several kids write in my yearbook that last year and thank me for always being so nice to them...and that meant more to me than being "popular" ever could have.

Life in that town was so easy for me in so many ways, and so hard in others. From the outside it must have looked like I really had it all going for me. "Rich" parents, a "huge" house, a nice car, I was a cheerleader, I had a lot of friends...I'm sure some people were envious, and I know others hated me for it. But in my actual life, on the inside where no one could see, it wasn't so wonderful. My parents didn't get along. At all. We lacked a real family unit. At that point, it was basically me and my mom, and then my dad. We rarely ever did anything as a family....I even remember thinking it was strange if the three of us went somewhere together or spent any amount of time together, and inevitably things would end unpleasantly.

From the end of my freshman year until just after graduation, I dated an older guy who treated me terribly. So terribly. I have never been so disrespected in my life, and after that relationship I knew I would never let it happen again. He constantly cheated on me, lied to me, put me down...he would promise to come see me, then never show up. Days later he would call and turn it into my fault somehow. He did a lot of drugs, and he took me into some really sketchy situations that looking back on I cannot believe I allowed myself to be in as such a young girl. I never, ever tried one drug or took one sip of alcohol when I was with him, and I'm sure I have my parents influence to thank for that. I repeatedly found out about girls that he slept with...a friend of a friend, a girl we went to church with, a younger girl at school. It was miserable. I was horribly depressed, not only because of him, but because I truly suffered from depression. I contemplated suicide. I hated my life. I thought things would never get better.

And yet, I had it all...in the eyes of all the people surrounding me in that tiny little town, I really had it all going for me. Sure, people knew about the crazy boyfriend, but I'm positive no one really knew what was going on, aside from friends of his who had little sympathy for me. People just knew I was dating this guy who went to our school a few years before and had a not-so-great reputation. I'm sure people wondered why on earth we were together, but while I was at school he rarely came up.

I think growing up in that type of place really makes me appreciate the anonymity that comes with living in a bigger city. I rarely run into people I know. I'm just another face in the crowd. I don't have to worry about constantly being judged. I don't have any type of image to uphold, because no one knows me here. Sure, I miss the slower pace, the friendly faces, the sense of community...there are some really amazing advantages to growing up in a small town, and I'll forever be grateful that I had that experience. But thank God I married a man who would never survive in a small town...because I'm positive I could never go back.

I haven't been to my hometown, other than a quick drive through, in several years. My parents got divorced and they both moved. Very few of my friends still live there. I have no reason to go. It makes me nervous just thinking about it...all the people I'd see, the questions I'd be asked...people's surprise at seeing me there. I don't feel like I have any enemies by any means, in fact, I mostly have warm feelings for the people from that phase in my life. Sometimes I feel a little homesick...not so much for the actual physical place, but just for that time in my life. Although it was far from perfect, especially in my later years there, it was home. I felt safe, loved, protected...there's just something about living with your mom and your dad that can never be replaced. I'm just so far removed from that now, it feels so foreign. Even though growing up there is so much a part of who I am, it seems like another life. I'm so thankful for everything I experienced, even the less than pleasant side of things, because I'm sure I wouldn't be who I am today without it.

Flash Back Friday- The College Edition

I never participate in the whole #TBT or #FBF thing on Instagram...I honestly just never think about it, plus I'm really not a hash-tagger (Too cool for school? Maybe.). But, it does seem kinda fun, so today I thought I would dedicate a post to #FBF. Just some classic photos from my past that make me smile. It was surprisingly difficult to find photos where someone in the picture doesn't look at least slightly intoxicated....says a lot about my early twenties. So basically this could be a lot more fun, but most of the people involved are professionals now so I have to think about them I guess ;) On with the photos!

My best friend Rachel and I....we probably have about a million photos together, but these are from the brief period of time that we lived together. It was definitely a crazy time in my life, and Rachel had to put up with me while raising a 4 year old daughter (my Goddaughter Averi). BUT, I would like to think that I had a great influence on Averi during the time we lived together because now that she's approaching her pre-teen years, she is basically a little mini-me. It's Rachel's curse in life to be surrounded by slightly spoiled little shopaholic drama queens. Poor girl. 

This was my sophomore year of college...the first time I attempted it. These girls were my best friends at that time in my life, and we had some fun times together figuring out life right out of high school. So crazy to think that it's been 10 years this month since we met!

Halloween 2007 at OSU. I had just started hanging out with these girls, who I met through some hilarious circumstances. Basically the tall brunette next to me and myself were kinda-sorta dating the same guy...at the same time. We both knew who the other was, and we weren't each others biggest fans, obviously. And then, somehow she, her best friend Katie (the redhead on the end who is now one of my very best friends) and I became inseparable. Needless to say, neither of us ended up with that guy ;)

These are just too embarrassingly hilarious not to include. That hat is so ugly I can't believe I ever owned it...and who doesn't love two little white girls acting super-hood? Sadly, Katie, Laura and I have several photos in similar poses...and the almost kissy-face is a college girl classic, am I right?

This makes me happy because it is four of my very favorite girls in the world, in my very favorite bar from my days at OSU. Sadly, Dirty's is no longer open. I would imagine it was shut down because of a health code violation or something, but I'm not sure. It was literally the dirtiest bar I've ever been in...the floors were made of some tar-like substance that ruined many of my shoes, and there were never paper towels...and sometimes not even toilet paper....in the girls bathroom. But they had huge, cheap drinks, and I had some of the best times of my college career in that bar. 

Spring Break 08 in Panama City Beach, Florida. I had so much fun on this trip with these girls. Gotta love those faces...

College roommates at OSU. Apparently we really loved that exact pose. 

These two are from the first weekend I hung out with A. Probably one of the most fun weekends I can remember. It was all excitement and giddiness and flirting and all of the fun that goes along with the first little bits of a relationship. We have been inseparable since that very first weekend. 

Our first Halloween together. A didn't buy a costume and found this in a friends closet right before we left to go out. If I remember right Katie and I bought him a costume while he was at work that night, like a dress and gloves or something? It's kind of a blur, but needless to say he didn't choose to wear what we got.

I just LOVE this picture of me and Katie. It captures exactly how I remember most of our nights out in Stillwater. Such a fun time in my life.

HA. Another one that just makes me laugh. I can't tell you how many pictures of A and I have Katie photobombing in the background.

For the first year or so of mine and A's relationship we were almost more of a trio than a couple. I have more fun memories with these two than with anyone else in my life. This picture makes my heart happy. 

Well, that was fun. For me at least. Now, don't forget to enter to win $50 to Walgreens from Dr. Smith's! You've only got one day left! Good luck...I hope you win ;)

Hoarding Issues

I come from a long line of semi-hoarders. Maybe not the technical hoarders that you might be familiar with, but a slightly less extreme version. My mom isn't too bad herself....at least I've never considered her that bad. That was until last weekend when I started going through a box that she brought me of childhood toys. I understand keeping the occasional sentimental toy here and there, but check out some of the random crap she thought was worth saving.

Apparently right around my third birthday my bear had the honor of receiving a first place ribbon in some random competition....for "happiest". What kind of a contest could this possibly have been? And let's talk about the fact that my hometown had a "Teddy Bear Fair". What on earth? Needless to say I have no memory of this and no idea why this treasure has been saved for me for more than 25 years.

Creepy porcelain face clown dolls...I don't even really know what to say about these. My Grandmother has several (hundred) of these dolls, and I'm assuming that's where I got them, but I don't have a memory of these either. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with them now. Display them? Put them on the dresser in my bedroom? Can you imagine what Arsen would do if he came home to these little creepers staring him down? (Grandmother, if you're reading, I'm sure I adored these as a child and sincerely appreciate the gifts that I'm assuming were from you...)

Now this guy...this guy I remember. For some twisted little reason he was my favorite doll for years.I don't think I've ever really talked about what a strange little bird I was as a kid, but this doll gives a pretty good indication. From what I recall he never wore clothes, and when I loved him he had two hands. I'm pretty sure I never gave him a permanent name, so we can refer to him as Bob. I loved Bob for reasons unknown to my parents, and now myself. He had a hard stomach because of some internal box that I think made him laugh at some point, and his face and hands were hard plastic. I dragged this thing around for years when I played with my dolls, and he was usually my son....along with about 20 other dolls who were my children as well. Only child complex? Maybe. I have a vague memory of a Bob-related trauma as well. One day I left Bob out on my swing set after I had been playing outside, and it started to rain. I screamed and cried as he sat helpless in a swing until my mom ran out in the middle of a rainstorm to rescue him. As you can see from his well-worn condition, I'm sure this wasn't the worst thing I put him through. 

So although he is quite hideous to look at, Bob is one of the few things I remember from my childhood. And a strange thing to note is that when I was digging through all these treasures he was Addie's favorite, too. She spent awhile chewing on his unattached hand, and she also really enjoyed sniffing his nasty hair. He's a special little doll, that one.

Now I have to figure out what to do with all these things....and don't you worry, this wasn't it. I had other dolls, many teeny little t-shirts, several baby blankets, and more. Somehow all of these precious mementos my mom has held on to for all these years are now mine to deal with. Thanks mom! So in order to avoid my family's hoarding tendencies I'm going to have to make some cuts. Wish me luck. And don't tell my Grandmother.