A little background - Pt. 1

So maybe I should say a little more about myself?

I grew up in a small Christian town. My parents had a house foreclosed and we moved to a one bedroom house which my dad built into a four bedroom, one bath house. It had an attic, main floor, and classic Michigan basement. The electrical, plumbing, duct work, and foundation are terrible, the floor is falling in on itself and it's barely insulated. I'm sure any building inspector (if they were paid on commission for each infraction of building code) would be a millionaire by the time they got done with that house. I was 3 at the time. My dad left (I later found out my mother evicted him) when I was 6. My grandparents died when I was 7, and my mom fell into a depression, resorting to alcohol and chain smoking. She used to be very pretty.

When I was 9 my mom "lost" her job at a glass plant in the next town over. I found out later that she quit because she thought my dad's child support would sustain me, her, and my two older brothers. She would drive by my dad's house and see what he was up to. Finally reunited with my dad, I made his life hell, as much as I could. I hated him. He left me, abandoned me, little did I know he tried as hard as he could to get full custody of me. His first, and only, wife left him around July of '98, as I accidently stumbled upon a conversation of hers - who she was cheating with and when. They told me it wasn't my fault. Of course it was, had I not heard that conversation he wouldn't have known. He moved to Wisconsin soon after, and I'd visit him every other week in summer up there.


In '99, there was the columbine shootings, the following fall, my school district had bomb threats every other day until winter, and as soon as it got warm, they started up again. We had logs of when everyone left the class to go to the bathroom, when we left the class, when we arrived at the bathroom, when we left the bathroom, and when we arrived back to class. On one occasion I was out of the classroom when one of the threats was made, and all the other girls who had been out of their class at the same time, were gathered up and sent to the principals office. If I could remember what that guy said - I'd put money on him losing his job. How he treated us was terrible.

In middle school everyone kind of made their own cliques, almost everyone had one. I refused to get into that sort of nonsense, so I didn't. Sure, I ostrasized myself, but it was by my own hand, the next six years, I didn't have a group, a set group of friends, a certain table to sit at, I was a loner, and I was okay with that.

In 8th grade was the first time I cut my hair very short, about 1/2 long, frosted tips, I'm sure it looked terrible, but I felt so great about it. I looked like my brother, dressed in boys clothes, but didn't know why I was doing it, except that it felt good, it felt right.

9th grade, I sort of found a group, but not friends, I joined theatre. It was great fun, I kept my grades up, 3.98 gpa, and always A's. I had the smallest part in the play - Poppy, in Noises Off. A play inside a play, brilliant. But I soon fell depressed, The fall of 10th grade my drama directors son commited suicide on Thanksgiving, he quit. I quit drama. I started going online to meet friends, saying I was a guy "because I didn't want to be hit on." I loved being called a guy.

And that's when it hit me. I needed to be seen as a guy. Luckily, the androgynous scene of 'emo' was in, I could dress as a guy and just be called emo, not 'dyke' or 'lesbo' or anything.. I dyed my hair and had the emo fringe, and all was good.