Sunday, March 6, 2011

Math Class (part 4)

I was going to attend a 4-year college on a music scholarship. What held me back was the debt I would still assume since my scholarship wasn't full. Instead, I opted at the last minute to enroll in the local community college. I had wanted to start college a year earlier, but my parents squashed that dream by telling me they made that mistake with my older sister and wouldn't do so again (despite my best efforts to inform them that I wasn't my sister and wouldn't be making the choices she did). Because I had been home schooled, I didn't technically have a high school diploma and I hadn't bothered to get a GED, so the college administration was quite put out when I requested to not be on academic probation my first semester (policy for everyone who didn't have a diploma). I had 21 credits that I planned to take my first semester and would have to drop classes that I didn't want to if they didn't change my status in their computer system. They did.

Ron wasn't going to attend this college. He had always planned to attend an art institute, but that idea was thwarted when life threw him into living out of his car after high school. If anything, he was going to attend college sooner, but needed that financial aid. The year he would turn 24 and be eligible for financial aid was the same year I was a college freshman, and we both enrolled.

Not only was I not going to attend this school, nor at this time, but I also wasn't going to take Intermediate Algebra and Trig. I had been speedy and completed all of my high school math in my sophomore year, not thinking that by the time I took college entrance exams, I wouldn't have done math for two years. This placed me into the middle ground of math classes at the college instead of into calculus. My parents, again, told me I shouldn't take this Algebra class because my older sister had done so when she attended this college and she only got a C. So obviously, I should take the class below this so that I could get an A.

Usually, I would have just given in and did whatever my parents told me. It wasn't worth the hassle that would ensue if I wavered from their wishes on anything. For some reason, though, I decided that I was highly insulted by their suggestion and I enrolled in the class anyway.

Ron, as gifted as he is at math, would have never been placed in this class, either...if he had done academic math in the seven years prior to taking his entrance exam. Needless to say, we both landed where we needed to be. Interestingly, we both had made vows to ourselves to not talk to anyone or make friends at school. It was all business--get good grades and get out.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Ron (part 3)

He was that guy that all the girls loved. Incredible blue eyes that looked into your soul, a great tan, and curly light brown hair. He always made it seem like you were the only person in the world when you talked to him, and he always had a bunch of girls lining up for him even though he didn't play any of them and never dated a lot anyway. When my mother first met him, she snuck off into the kitchen and immediately called my grandmother to report on how handsome and polite he was.

Aside from the good looks, he was also smart and beyond talented with art skills. The world worked against him though and began wounding his soul at a young age. He began his senior year of high school at the age of 16, younger than all of his classmates but with grades and a portfolio good enough to land him a scholarship to the Pittsburgh Institute of Art. The "art nerd," he didn't spend much time making or maintaining friends, and if he skipped a class, it was to go to the drawing room. One day, his mother showed up at his school in a van that contained all of his belongings. She had packed him up and without warning, kicked him out of the house. His world immediately changed, and he began a journey that would take him to live with over 70 different people during the next 8 years.

Before he graduated, he dropped out of school and got his GED instead. Forgoing the scholarship, a prom, and a chance at being "normal," all because it became more important to find food and a way to get a shower than it was to attend classes. It wasn't until after he was kicked out of his house that he ever tried an illegal drug, but it was the kids that smoked weed who were willing to accept him and take him in, thus introducing him to a variety of things that would lessen his pain as he got older.

Knowing that he wanted to get a college degree and make something out of himself, he tucked that dream into the future and looked forward to when he would turn 24 and be legally emancipated so he could receive financial aid and attend school. Until then, he worked odd jobs, smoked, and waited.

Friday, March 4, 2011

The List (part 2)

Things I Want In A Man
compiled from the ages of 17-21
  1. confident but humble
  2. him to pray
  3. some musical connection
  4. a gentleman
  5. nice
  6. polite
  7. have a good relationship with his parents, mother especially
  8. for him to look at my eyes
  9. be a leader
  10. search after God
  11. good personal hygine
  12. determined to live a holy life
  13. handsome
  14. a good listener
  15. taller than me
  16. not a talker or player
  17. unselfish
  18. funny
  19. can be silly
  20. will protect me emotionally and physically
  21. isn't disrespectful
  22. not a backstabber
  23. mature
  24. wise
  25. 1 Corinthians 13 love
  26. affectionate
  27. ticklish (negotiable)
  28. deals well with and is slow to anger
  29. not stupid
  30. likes my family
  31. is honest
  32. will like me despite my family issues/rules. I want him to think I'm worth it. I want him to pursue me and not give up.
  33. isn't a workaholic
  34. keeps his promises
  35. has good judgement
  36. does not wear make up!
  37. must me more willing to do God's will than his own
  38. optimistic
  39. trustable
  40. thinks up nice things to do and does them
  41. doesn't take things too personally
  42. sensitive toward others
  43. fun to be around
  44. has a generally pleasant demeanor
  45. doesn't smoke
  46. knows when something is wrong
  47. comforts you when you need it
  48. sees beauty in things and enjoys them
  49. wants to see the world
  50. not too attatched to money
  51. not horribly hairy
  52. good with kids and likes them

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Rachel (part 1)

I was that girl who every mom hopes her son will marry. Sensible, cute, smart, and as comfortable running a household as I was rappelling down the face of a cliff (which for me, means absolutely competent). Not only this, but I was focused. At the age of 16, I had my first "break up" with my boy friend (although who can really call him a boyfriend if neither of you have a license and thus can't really date?). After crying miserably for three days, I determined that dating was simply not for me. I didn't have three days of my life to waste in an attempt to find some dude that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. For me, I was going to enjoy being friends with my male counterparts and when I found my husband, skip the dating part and just marry him. With this came my firm belief in abstinence until marriage, an idea that was introduced to me at a young age (thank you, summer camp!). It had made a lot of sense to me: no risk of STD's, no unwed pregnancy, and no emotional baggage to deal with. Also, no getting into trouble with my parents.

Most guys I hung out with wouldn't believe that I was a virgin by the time we were all in our late teens. Sometimes, a cute guy would find out that I wasn't going to have sex with him and would immediately become interested in someone else. It was annoying, but I figured it was okay because that just meant he would have been a boy I would end up wasting three days on. I was going places in life.

Going against the grain and dating with a purpose isn't the easiest thing in the world. Not wanting to fall into the trap of finding a guy I liked and molding him to fit my idea of what he should be, thus compromising the qualities I was looking for in my future husband, I bought a notebook. In it, I wrote letters to my future husband and in the back, I began a list of characteristics I wanted him to have. This way, I figured I would know him when I saw him and wouldn't compromise what I wanted.

I was in love with my husband way before I ever met him. He was a lucky man.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011


Okay, so I am hoping that someone out there noticed I haven't blogged in, like, oh, a month? I hope that someone wondered if I am still alive, and maybe even about why I haven't written. Maybe you read my more "personal" blog over at and have became part of my inward struggles lately. Or maybe you didn't notice at all.

Either way, I have decided that I can't run away from the inevitable forever. I do remember telling all of you that I was going to share the story of my husband and myself during February. I do feel badly for never even starting it and leaving an empty slate for the entire month. And I do still want to tell our story.

Why didn't I ever start it though? Because I left him. Somehow, that made starting my story more complicated. Not just the "I'm displaced so using the Internet and writing a blog post is difficult," but the whole emotional and mental hurricane that ensues when you have to leave your spouse makes digesting your past a lot more difficult. On top of that, I have been avoiding telling people we know just because neither of us want to deal with the negativity towards the opposite spouse that society loves to harp on, nor the moral opposition of people who had no idea what's been going on in our relationship because I have never felt the need to broadcast our dirty laundry so to speak.

But now, I am ready. It was a month ago today that I packed up my kids and we left. Know that as you read our story, I still love my husband just as much as I ever did. Nothing will ever change that. I also respect him and that respect has actually grown a lot in the last month as I have seen him shed the things that made it impossible for us to stay.

It's just time to tell my story now...even if I still don't know the ending.