Regret #1

My dad is a good man. I would even say he is a good father, protector and provider. Most of all he loves my mama. I should be proud to be his daughter. I never needed anything, but if I wanted something I had to come to him for a reason I needed it. Before going back to school after summer break, I would take the money I made on the farm and money he gave my mom to go school shopping. When he came home from work, I would do a fashion show for him with all my new outfits. I don't remember him ever telling me I looked pretty or any positive comment about my outfits, but for some reason I always wanted to show him what I got. 

Talking to my dad was always very difficult for me. Going out with my friends in high school was never an option. My dad always thought of ways I could die by leaving the house and the answer was always no. Although me and my mom where close, my dad had the say in what I could do and where I could go. 

My relationship went downhill with my mom in my teenager years. We had knock down drag outs often. Objects were often used in our fights. From laundry baskets, shoes and corded home phones, I knew how it felt to get hit by any of them. I begged for a public job as soon as I could work. Working was my only freedom out the house. Unfortunately, my parents knew that and often used it as a way of punishment. If I got in trouble, I wasn't allowed to go into work that day. I remember one day I got the keys anyway and my mom stood behind the car as I was trying to drive out. I told her if she didn't move, I would run her over. 

I wouldn't say I was a bad child. I did the normal teenage shit. Skipped school one time, tried a drink or two. My parents always seemed to find out everything I did. I had this one guy friend I grew up with. We will call him B. His dad was friends with my dad, so we grew up fishing and being out at the hunting club together. My parents have a big pond of their farm so we would get out there in the canoe together during the summer. Of course, I always had the biggest crush on him. My parent's farm is only a few minutes drive from the back of our property to the river. I love the river, and I spent alot of time as a child on the private boat landing Cat Island. I remember one particular day as a teenager I went to Cat Island with my older brother. My brother's friends were there and so was B. B got a call that one of his boys had drove into a ditch and asked me to ride to pull him out. On the way back B drove into a cut down and parked. Things happened in that truck that I didn't want to happen. Fortunately for me I had never done anything like that before, so he didn't accomplish what he wanted to. It also started pouring down rain, so my dad drove down to the river to see why my brother and I hadn't made it back home. My dad saw B's truck parked, and we saw my dad, so we drove back to the landing. My dad saved me that day, but that was also the day he told me he washed his hands of me. I stayed silent and didn't try to defend myself. Same as I did in B's truck. That wasn't the last time in my life I got into a bad situation with B. 

My dad never allowed me to ride in the car with another teenager. One day two of my girl friends and I decided to cut school and go to the beach. My parents found out and my dad picked me up from soccer practice early when he did. My dad beat me with the belt when I got home. I am the only child my dad ever beat. The next day at school I got called to the counselor's office and asked to see my bruises. They took pictures and opened a DSS case on my dad. I didn't see it, but my mom told me my dad cried. I wasn't allowed to finish the soccer season.

As long as my parents knew their parents, I was allowed to stay the night with friends. They had more freedom than I did so every now and then we could get out for a while without my parents knowing. Most times I was just in trouble for being on the home phone all night with my boyfriend or staying late at work to see him. I was sixteen, and he was my first love. He actually went to my house one day alone and asked my dad permission to date me. We were together for 3 years until I just outgrew him. I think I still have a box of memories from him at my parents. Pictures and every love note he left me on my car when I was at work. That boy hung the moon, and I would give anything to feel that way about a man now. 

My goal early in life was to go into Law Enforcement. I received enough scholarships to go for Francis Marion in Florence, SC at no cost. My dad had different plans for my life, and I was persuaded with a new Chevy Cobalt to stay home and go to college for Business. During my college years I met my first husband. 

My first husband was about 6 years older than me. He had his own home and a good job so the freedom I had with him was great. I was 19 when we met and I moved in fairly quickly. We had some good memories together in the beginning. He even took me to Cancun on vacation. The first vacation I had ever been on. We always had his group of friends over and it was always a party. We were engaged a year into our relationship and a year after we were married. Our wedding was beautiful except for the white doves that flew into cars and died when they were released. Who knew they couldn't see well after dark? We were married in the church I grew up in and our open bar reception was a hell of a party. One of his groomsmen was arrested for DUI that night. I had just turned 21. The DJ played Kung Fu Fighting during our reception because my husband had a black eye, I gave him a week before after his bachelor party. Not the first time we had been in a physical altercation during our relationship. 

The week before our wedding I was in the shower after being out with the girls. He had just come home from his bachelor party, and I don't even remember what he was upset about, but I ended up wrapped in a shower curtain with him on top of me before his friends heard the noise and came inside. They threw me in the truck, and I stayed at the house they all shared together that night. I woke up ready to call the wedding off. His mom said the wedding planning had been stressful for us and I had cold feet. My mom said she had spent a lot of money and time preparing for the wedding, and we needed to get it together. I went through with it. Three months later we were separated. I left a note when I packed my things telling him I hoped he would forgive me one day. I'm not sure he ever did.

Looking back, I should have never let our relationship get that far. I was learning how to be free and wasn't faithful to him. I did think I loved him, but really, we were just good friends. I tried to go back 6 months into our separation, but a party turned into a fight about me smoking weed in his house. We actually stayed friends up until a couple years later when he got his girlfriend pregnant. I'm not sure he got married again but last time I heard they were still together. I also heard he went to rehab a few times. His girlfriend was never happy about us keeping in touch, so we lost contact. I have a tattoo in big letters above my pelvis to remember the ending of that relationship. FREEDOM in all capital letters. What a good decision that was.