I grew up, moving from home to home. Actually, house to house. There never was a “home” for me. My parents didn’t make much money. My mom was one year into college before she found out she was pregnant. She became a stay-at-home mom. My dad couldn’t obtain his high school diploma. So he started working in the upholstery business because it was the only thing he knew how to do. His father had taught him everything—all the tricks and fundamentals—of how to make anything. My dad built all of our furniture, fixed all our cars, and remodeled the entire house they currently reside in. He is extremely talented and I’ll say that exact same thing to anyone who asks.
My parents took care of us. But it wasn’t easy. If you didn’t know, the upholstery business could only take us so far sometimes. We had trouble with rent. We had trouble with bills. Sometimes we even had trouble with food. I can’t tell you how many times we had to pack up and leave, selling all our belongings (no matter how personal or sentimental) in order to gather a small portion to get us into our next house. By the time I was 10, I thought I already experienced all of “life’s struggles.”
When I was 15, I didn’t live with my parents for a while. They moved to a different state again. At the time, I wasn’t being reasonable. All I cared about was staying with my friends. What I really thought in my head was that I was tired of my family and the way we were. We weren’t solid. I didn’t move back in with them until almost a year later. Even then, I didn’t realize how foolish I was. I didn’t feel even one spec of remorse for leaving my little sisters. I hadn’t even realized how long it had been since I last saw my parents’ faces. They aged in the short amount of time I wasn’t there.
The year I turned 16, my mom had a miscarriage. None of us knew if it was a boy or girl. I wish I knew. With four kids, two adults, and only our clothes, we moved back to California during that winter.
It wasn’t until I started my first year of college.. I can’t explain exactly what happened. It was as if I crossed over this imaginary line. I left behind a selfish, immature person. The year we moved back was the year my mom was diagnosed with diabetes. I guess.. I felt a sudden need to take care of the family. I wanted to erase this guilt inside, the guilt of being a horrible and ungrateful daughter. I spent that first year of college balancing school, taking care of my sisters, and keeping the house in order. 2010 was possibly the most difficult year of my life so far. Friends were too much to handle and relationships were too hard to keep. I guess without the distraction of friends, work, or a boyfriend, I grew to love being a part of the family.
But here I am, back to where I was when I was 15. I’m living in a completely different state. Sometimes, I feel like I moved backwards in life. Sure, I had some personal reasons to be over here. But there were no reasons to be away from my family. I always wonder how they’re doing on a day-to-day basis. The only comfort I have is knowing my dad is now a huge success. He started off with a small workshop he built in our garage and now.. he’s designing shops for business entrepreneurs and franchises. I’m proud of him. His years are a lot wiser than mine. My mom is hanging in there. She’s still being superwoman, taking care of four kids even with two of them in a different state.
My mom is the reason why our family survived through the years. She kept us on track. There wasn’t a skipped day of school that went by without her nagging us about our futures. And who else has the tenacity to keep my dad in check? Being a mother is not easy. You have a weight on your shoulder that you carry for the rest of your life. My mom is the reason why I’m living so freely with no direction. It’s ironic since she’s the one pushing me to pursue a career path. I guess.. the reason why I haven’t decided what I wanted to do yet is because I look at my mom and see infinite possibilities. I can be dwelling at rock bottom but there’s always hope that life will run it’s course and eventually collide with something happy.
As random as this is, I decided to write about my mom today. This post is dedicated to her.
“Falling in love consists merely in uncorking the imagination and bottling the common-sense.”
I adore men who capture me with words.
One of my biggest turn-off’s would be smoking. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t give you a chance. It’s not you…”
It’s the cancer-causing death smoke of horror.
If you were a nice, genuine guy who was respectful of my distaste in smoking then sure. I’d give you my time of day. I wouldn’t judge you at all. Just know that I’ll always have a tiny squirt gun in hand as soon as you light one of those cigs.
When I’m settling into bed, I have to tuck the sheets under and around my feet because if I don’t.. the paranormal activity ghost will pull me out and eat me :(
One of my biggest insecurities, surprisingly, does not associate with my looks. It used to be.. until this one big head told me he loved and appreciated my flaws. My biggest insecurity now would be my personality. More specifically: my willingness and tendency to be outgoing. I’m always on edge or scared that I’m too boring. Especially around my best friends who are all completely opposite of me. In a big crowd, no one will turn to me to start the conversation. I’m more of a nod and listen along kind of person. Don’t get me wrong. I can carry a conversation.. there just won’t be a guarantee that it’ll be a fun or interesting conversation. I have to try really hard to talk when I meet new people. Sometimes I’ll say stupid things to make them laugh. Or even a fake laugh. At the end of the day, though, that’s just how I am. I’m pushovery nice and will do my best to make my friends and family happy. But if that’s boring then.. shiet, screw you.
I have never watched one full Star Wars or Lord of the Rings movie. Sorry, world. Just not that interested at the moment.
When I was 5 or 6, my sisters and my cousins on my Dad’s side were pretty tight. We hung out with each other and played violently all day. We basically declared Anthony, my oldest cousin, the king. Whatever he did or wanted us to do, we did. So.. one day, they all went rollerblading. At the time, I didn’t know how to roller blade. That or.. I think I was too scared to. So instead of being nice little kids and waiting for me or playing something else, guess what they decided to do?
Put me in the metal trash can and place the lid on top -__- That’s not even the stupid thing. I stayed in the trash can until my mom found me. HAHA, good times<3