Being born in Colorado, you get a certain happiness when you live here and you can call this your hometown. As a little girl, I don't remember a whole lot that happened. I do remember when we moved to Alabama to help my Aunt. It was for a brief month or so, and then we moved again. This time it was to Georgia. I didn't like living there like I did when we lived in Colorado. So we decided to move back to Colorado.
I went to school and was content with myself. The house we lived in was adventurous and there were many times I would get in trouble because being the "adventurous" type came with consequences when you broke things, like plugging the toilet with action figures because you wanted them to swim. Yep I was a handful back then and even to today. I never wanted to leave Colorado because of a great many things but the number one was I felt like myself here.
Since I was only a little girl I didn't have a lot of say in the matter of moving. So the one time my parent's asked if we wanted to move, I said yes. I don't really know why I said yes. But now that I think of it, it was in everyone's best interest at the time to move and explore the world. Yes, I would miss Colorado more than anyone knew but it was adventure time.
We moved back to Georgia at the time because it offered a great career for my dad and he loved his architecture. So I start going to school there and it didn't seem that great. I made a couple friends there and it started turning better for me. I also got into a lot of trouble at school. Remember the couple friend's I said I had, turns out they weren't the right choice for me to hang out. I got into verbal fights with them, and gossiped about them to everyone I knew. A decision I regret but had a major learning experience from.
Living in Georgia almost made me a permanent resident of Foster Care. I remember getting a rowing machine for working out downstairs. As usual, the know it all didn't want to wear shoes when operating the machinery. To my surprise, I got a big cut on my foot that really hurt and one day I used it in the worst way. One day on the bus I decided because my brother and I were having a big fight to tell my friends that my little brother cut me on my foot with a knife. A smart decision in my little brain, a tramautic outcome. I went around all day telling people that it happened, yet I didn't realize that it would come back to bite me in my butt.
It took the principal, and even my parents telling me that there was a Foster Care Van sitting outside our door to realize that the "bad life" wasn't for me. That's also when my relationship with my brother started to dwindle. After that it seemed like I was in need of another thing to preoccupy my time. So we moved, to North Carolina.
Moving again wasn't all happiness and joy like what some people tell you in the movies. I felt like when we moved, I left a little piece of me there. But we packed up and moved on.
The start of moving into our new home was actually exciting. I got a room to myself with a large window! I was actually previewing what my room was going to look like. There would be a picture here, a picture there. I wanted my room to be yellow, a bright color as to a dark color. I wanted positive, bright in my life. We had Scooby, so it was fun! The first day of school was scary, but it always is for the new kids. I grew to love North Carolina. I met friends that meant something to me. I met my best friend there, and we hung out and loved to watch movies and read the same book series. Life was good. But it's like whenever my life starts getting good, something bad has to happen.
We had to move again, but this time we moved to Iowa and lived with my grandpa. For some reason, this move really took it's toll on me. First, I lost my best friend and believed that we would talk anymore because I wasn't there and she had things that were more important. We still talk to this day but not as much. Which is okay, since we both have seperate lives. Then, I lost Scooby. The traumatic part was when we took her to the no kill shelter and I saw her for the last time. I didn't let those leave my thoughts, which I should have done because instead I took it out on my parent's and myself. I sat upstairs most of the time and wrote in my journal, and looked into the window and wished I still lived in North Carolina.
Then after what seemed like years, we moved again and this time it was back to Colorado. We lived with my grandma and life didn't feel the same. I didn't let the stuff from the past go, I let it eat at me. It has overall really affected my life in ways that I didn't think would happen. But I let it happen, so anything that has made me who I am today is because I didn't make the stand to chose better for myself.
Now I permanent live in Colorado with my boyfriend. I wake up every morning to the mountains and the sun trying blind us from the curtains. If I said I wanted to change everything yes there are some circumstances that would make me want to change a great many things, but not where I am right now. I get this feeling, of happiness and joy when I can wake up in a place I love with someone right next to me. I get to watch the mountains everyday when I'm driving, or sitting and can't think. The mountain's symbolism something to me. I haven't found out what yet, but when I do. I think it'll change me again, into the person I'm supposed to be.
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