I want to start off this post with a huge thank you! The love and support I have already received is obviously already trumping the hate. I do this work as a service to myself in processing and to the public in that it seems many haven't found their voices yet like I have. So thank you! Keep reading, keep listening, keep asking questions.
I have a lot to clear up evidently and it's hard to know exactly where to start so this time I'll take you even before the glory days back to the day I was born. I was born December 25th, 1999 at 12:23am to my mom Lucie and dad Paul. My mom was in labor for three days straight, with a consecutive SEVEN hours of hard pushing, and she's a little ass lady. Either the universe wanted me born of Christmas day to remind everyone how much of a gift I am, or the universe didn't fully want me here in a way. Either way you look at it, there is some truth to it.
When I came out, I didn't cry. I instead looked up at my mom's beautiful blue eyes, utterly amazed with the world and with my own creation. That didn't last long because I was jaundice(some medical thing that's bad for babies) and they had to put me in an incubator where I screamed and screamed until my parents decided to take me out and cuddle me instead.
I was an easy going fun loving cute ass kid. I would spend hours with my markers and art supplies drawing and creating series of my own. My favorite and most notably adorable one was in kindergarten, titled the Innie series. A series of drawings of a guinea pig living her dream life in a vending machine of sorts. Creative and amazed with the world from a very young age.
My family has always been really outdoorsy. I could be a girly girl dress up princess one day and knee deep in the mud making mud pies on a camping trip the next. I had a large variety of friends that I loved. And even had my first kiss in preschool under this big tree house play structure type of thing during recess. Scandalous, I know. I was loved by people young and old everywhere I went. I was never the craziest or the loudest but I always seemed to make an impact everywhere I went.
Elementary school was happy too. I was active and creative and silly. I did gymnastics competitively, I sang in the school choir, I hosted holiday baking parties with all my friends annually at my house. And life was good. I had a special boy in my life starting in second grade on valentines day when he(his sweet mom actually) gave me a beautiful pink bird cage during our class valentines exchange. I was fucking ecstatic. This relationship continued on year after year until fifth grade when I found myself choosing between three different boys. Completely against everything good and holy I chose an asshole over my sweet original love. Cmon Addie.
Didn't last long and our relationship was mostly text conversations and the occasional hug after school if we were both feeling ballsy. None the less I felt like hot shit. All the boys wanted me(god only knows why) and my ego was totally inflated. Starting middle school was scary though. I loved it for the most part until the incident in 8th grade. I do have vivid memories of playing truth or dare with all my "friends" and no one ever wanting to kiss me or like me. I think that's when my self esteem and confidence took a turn of the worse.
I was cute but I was no longer the cutest. And I had no boobs so how could any boy actually like me?! Good question. My social anxiety grew and grew but I was in no shortage of love. I had a boyfriend in sixth grade that dumped me for my hotter friend. Yeah you know who you are. And a love interest in seventh grade that wouldn't even talk to me face to face, only note correspondence. Finally in eighth grade I found a sweet boy that treated me right(for the most part). Complicated ex girlfriend still in the picture but I made out with this boy(first boy I had done that with) and that was fucking sick. I don't fully remember how that ended I think it was probably my doing or the judgement of the "popular" boys that he wasn't fully in their circle.
Anyways middle school was fun until me and my best friend of the time created an instagram -- snickledickle or picklefickle or some shit I think it was called. The OGs will remember. A page sort of like a finsta but before those were cool where we posting funny pictures of people. It was meant to be light hearted and funny but everyone labeled me, not her, but me as a cyberbully. Y'all I wasn't even smart enough for that shit. And I ended up taking most of that blame. While our group of friends easily forgave her I was the black sheep and everyone hated me for it. I lost a lot of friends and endured my own bullying over this incident. Not only from the kids but from their fucking parents. What the fuck is that about. I was 13 maybe 14, and it destroyed me in a lot of ways.
It made Boulder High and big and scary place from the very start. The unjustified hatred of me in this town has made it a scary place for me for a long time. Take these interpretations as you will but this is my truth. The truth I have never had the platform or voice to share. So thank you for reading, I appreciate you. Even the haters. You've only made me stronger.
Peace out :)(: