High school graduation was May 1987. In June I met a man 6 years older than me and fell head over heels in love. Within a month we were living together. Summer in a beach town for young people at that time was wild; beach in the afternoon with all your friends fueled by alcohol beverages and drama, work a part time job, then go to whatever party is happening after work. It was a summer of fun, freedom, and heartbreak. Friends left for college or moved out of our small town. Some went to work at local factories. It was typical of most small towns.
I had a full scholarship to a private business college about an hour away. I got so tangled up in living life over summer that I never followed through with housing plans. When September came knocking I was not prepared for college. My guy was adamant that I stay home with him. We talk about forever and having a baby. I go off birth control. I’m 18 years old and think I have the world by the tail. By November I am single and relieved I did not get pregnant. By the end of November 1987 my happy bubble burst after a lovely family gathering when I throw up Thanksgiving dinner and figure out I am pregnant. I tell the donor and he is over the moon happy. For a little while. Then it all goes bad. Again. Within 5 weeks of having my beautiful baby boy I am single. My family and close friends surround me with loving support. The year I was 18 was brutal. Built by my choices.
I’m 19, a teen-mom with a high school education and limited work options. I wanted more, but more seemed so far out of reach. Jobs were easy enough to come by, but they were low paying and crazy hours. I couldn’t afford a car and quality babysitters don’t do crazy random hours so work was sporadic. It was tough. My mom and my close friends got me through this period of life. Add to the struggle, I moved 13 times in 2 years to “hide” from the donor, sometimes on friends couches or in closet size rooms. With my son. It was not fun. There was no money. No. Money. I battled DHHS to not go after the donor for child support and won, but at a cost, less monthly assistance. I was immersed in struggle, fear, shame, guilt, indecision, and poor decisions. I had to work my tail off to get out of that hole. It was working jobs that sucked until a better one came along. I switched jobs more often than houses. It was living places that were subpar. It was wracking up credit and bills then not paying. Emotionally it was a rollercoaster, I filled my life with drama, alcohol induced “fun”, and connection via sex. The life lessons were intense and real during this time.
During this time, while moving from house to house, I spent some time with friends in an 1800’s victorian mansion. The house had been used in many ways before I moved in – a home, a brothel, abandoned for many years, an old folks home, then apartments. The house had experienced ALOT of death; murder, fire, natural. Many spirits lingered and made themselves known regularly. There was one particular spirit that was not happy to have people in his house. There was wind, not a breeze, a good cold, stiff wind in a stairwell with no windows. No matter where I was in that house I could feel eyes on me, my neck hairs always standing on end. It scared me. I moved out of that house as quick as possible. I have been able interact with earth-bound spirits since I was a young child, but had no idea how to deal with them. This was before internet, podcasts, etc. Finding information or people to talk with was not as easy as it is now. Add in growing up in a rural area that was strongly christian and thought any type of “woo-woo” was cause for hospitalization or an institutional stay. I rarely talked to anyone about my abilities. My childhood best friend knew, my mom knew, but neither had any more knowledge than me. So, I worked really hard to shut it off. It took a few years to get it completely shut down, but I was successful… for 30+ years.
Through most of this time I dated a couple men, but its not until I meet the man who eventually became my first husband that life starts to settle and I make progress toward the life I want. I was 21. Sometime in the future I will write about the donor, the 1st husband, and my dream path that came from my teen-mom struggle.
Now, in this moment, I am sharing my story, healing lifetimes of emotional wounds, embracing my gifts, exploring ways to expand my spirituality and share the spiritual path with you. If you feel called to explore, heal, uncover, enhance your gifts click the link to schedule a free Consultation Call