When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?
Raised in a Mormon household, I was brought up believing that my role as a female household member had already been established. I was expected to be a faithful and supportive wife, as well as a God-fearing and principle-established mother. I was supposed to have between five and eight kids, a responsible and respectful husband, live in a nice suburban home with two vehicles, and when my kids were all grown up, they would bring their kids to see their grandparents who would spoil them rotten!
Like many children, my expectations dramatically shifted. I married two cheating men; one who “gifted me” with an STD and the other who threatened my life. I had two babies from two different donors; both were child molesters. I literally lost my mind due to a doctor who was supposed to help people, during a routine drug check for my job. I experienced a debilitating car accident while pregnant with my second child and could barely function, leaving us homeless. Later, thanks to being out of my mind while ill with COVID, I purchased a condo right before I had a stroke that forced me out of the workforce.
Five years later, my second child leaves for the Marines on April Fool’s Day, my son won’t speak to me, and I’m preparing to re-enter the realm of university studies for a master’s in counseling. How ironic is that?
Mother in the Jungle 