Mistakes

I told you about that sweet girl I was in high school.  I thought I would share some pictures with you.  This first picture was me as a sophomore or junior in high school.  This one was taken when I was a junior.  I had a huge crush on this guy and then he moved.  When I found out later that he had really cared about me, too (after he had moved) I was sick for weeks.  Unrequited love or something like that.  

The next four pictures were taken when I was a senior in high school.  School dances and graduation.  Yeah, graduation night was not my favorite.  My attitude was "Let's get this dang thing over with!"  I didn't go to the organized graduate party that night.  Why? 'Cause I was a snob.  I don't know why.  I remember thinking I didn't want to chauffeur my best friend and her boyfriend around all night while they made out.  I ended up coming home early, like at 10:00 p.m. and sleeping on the couch, while my mother spent the night waiting up for me wondering when I was going to get home.

Oh, the grief she felt that night was nothing compared to what I was going to put her through.

My freshman year at college was an interesting experience.  I wouldn't trade it for anything.  I had a couple serious boyfriends and several "scams".  Back then, "scamming" meant making out with a guy without any commitment.  Yeah, I was pretty busy scamming most of the time, more than I was studying for my classes.  My best quarter that year was the one where I was down with mono and only had time to eat and study between sleeping.  By the end of that year, I had lost my scholarship, been arrested, been told "I love you" by my boyfriend (ugh!), and made some lifelong friends, people who still mean the world to me even though we don't talk on a regular basis.  I learned a lot about myself then.  For one thing, I learned I was not ready to commit to a serious relationship, because I felt like I didn't love myself enough to let someone else love me.  I would soon realize how true this was.  How much I needed to know and respect and love myself more . . .

(That last post was kind of an interruption.  I am going to try to keep telling my story in order)