So here it goes...
I had a beautiful life in Texas. Wonderful husband and two great kids.
My older one is the strongest person I know. She told me and her dad that she was gay when she was 14 and has been living her life out and proud ever since. This is not an easy thing to do when you are going to high school in the middle of the bible belt. I am so very proud of her everyday of her life.
My little one is also very strong willed. (I have no idea where she got this personality trait from...). She is going to break a lot of hearts with her "Hey if you got it flaunt it that does mean they can have it" attitude. She is very tough yet very sweet too. Always thinking about everyone else around her. That I know she gets that from her dad.
Her poor dad. I just don't know how he puts up with the 3 of us. He is one of these gentle souls. Never gets upset. If fact he never shows emotion of any kind. You'd think he would be a better poker play with that temperament.
Anyway then there is me. The wild child. My family always told me I was the blacksheep. The only one out of 6 children that did not finish college. The only one that would stand up to my mother and tell her to back off. I'm really surprised I don't have a permanant hand print across my cheek from everytime she slapped me across the face. That was my mother...hit first and ask questions later. I don't want to give the impression she was a child absurer. Don't get me wrong it's just that she and I have the same personality so it was like the clash of the titans growing up. Her job was to discipline with what ever she could get her hands on and my job was to get into trouble to give her hostility an outlet. We had the perfect partnership.
I think I'll stop for now. I have so much to say that I didn't even realize this was going to be so...well you know. If you don't have one of these you better start one.
Next time I'll go into my life and why I'm wilting...
