Remembering the Past to Make the Future Better
Our past does not define us unless we let it.
Party girl has been my identity since I took that first sip at 14.
I come from a family of “partiers.” Smoked weed openly, drank, and hung out with a crowd living on the fringes of society.
Nobody cared if my brother or I drank or smoked weed. They only cared if we stole it from them.
I once heard my brother’s parole officer say to the folks that they were “supposed to be the parents” and that it wasn’t healthy for kids to “live on the fringes.”
On the fringes.
On the fringes, we went without a lot. Mom left, and Dad was an alcoholic pot-head. So, sometimes, we went without things like food, heat, toilet paper, feminine products.
As soon as I could drive, I got a job. With my first paycheck, I joined a gym for $10 a month where I could shower in hot water in a private bathroom in the morning before school. That ten dollars was the smartest investment I ever made.
I rarely had friends over to my house. After seeing how other families lived, I was too embarrassed. I never saw dirty bongs, roaches, and cigarettes overflowing in ashtrays.
