Loner child

FOR THE RECORD: all names of people who are not myself (and possibly even myself) have been changed. Just so you know, cause I will be mentioning people. Anyway continue on...

Life was good. And then I went to school. Kindergarten was fine. Kindergarten was also School 1. In fact nothing important happened in Kindergarten so we are skipping it. Grade one was the beginning of School 2. School 2 wasn't so fun. I had 'friends' in the trailer park that I lived in that were friends with me when we were at home (read: parents around) and not at school. I was picked on a lot. I was (am) a slow runner, I cried easily. I was somewhat sheltered. I was a gullible. And I was a goody-goody. You know that person in school who knew ALL the answers? Who tattled if you misbehaved? Who could apparently do know good in the eyes of any teacher - or your parents? Yeah that was me. I wouldn't have been easier to pick on if you had painted a large red target on me.

I became a loner very quickly as you could probably guess. I wasn't allowed to do sports because I had had asthma since birth and my mom was very over-protective of me - even running wasn't her favourite thing for me to do. So I didn't really have friends there. I did Brownies (Girl Guides) with the girls in my trailer park because my mom made me. However I read. I read a lot. Which meant I could escape into books and not talk to people. Seriously I was a seven year old loner. How sad.

Grade three (still in School 2) something amazing happened. I was allowed to take dance class. I took Jazz. That became my life for all of grade three (and most of grade four). Books and dance and school (even though I was picked on, I loved school. I loved learning) were my life. It was how I coped with home. See my parents had this unfortunate habit of screaming at each other. Frequently. So frequently that I'm sure even time got headaches from them.

At the end of the summer between grade's three and four I turned nine (funny how every year you get a year older huh? okay maybe not) and three days later my parents split up. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! :D So two days after starting grade four my mom moved out and took me with her. Cue School 3. I saw my Dad every other weekend. That was hard for me since I am very much (extremely much) a daddy's girl. On his weekends he would take me see a movie (if there was any good children's ones playing) and we would go to Sunday School. We went to Sunday School because that was something me and my dad would do that my mom would never do so it was 'our thing.' Grade four also had the teacher that hated children, and mom meeting, dating (and breaking up with) a man via internet (she never actually met HIM in person). After breaking up with him, she met someone else on line (Dean).

Because of all this drama trauma I danced. Ballet, Jazz (twice a week), Musical Theatre, and (I believe this was what it was I can't remember) Contemporary. Four out of five school nights a week I was at dance. I loved to dance. If I had been able to (not knowing what comes later of course) chart out the course of my life I would have had me dancing.

Before I go onto explain the end of grade four, I know your probably thinking, "Look Hollie, I thought this is supposed to be about God and what He has done for you. This is just life drabble. The closest you've come to mentioning Him is going to Sunday School with your Dad." Let me explain, God wasn't a part of my life yet, and since He wasn't, I couldn't really mention much about Him.

HOWEVER, looking back if I had stayed in Fort St. John taking dance class four nights a week, visiting my Dad every other weekend - where would I be? Looking back to the "friends" I had (some of whom I have on facebook now) its easy to see the downfall. I would have continued to dance, I might have even regained friendships, learned how to make new ones (sounds horrible I know) and then I would have entered and finished high school. There I would have probably started drinking and partying, having multiple boyfriends - I could even have been a mother by now (I'm almost twenty). Not exactly how I would want my life to go.

But God did not keep me in Fort St. John. No he had other plans for me.

Mom met Dean. On the internet. She fell in love. Slight problem. Dean lived in Ontario, we were in BC. Solution? Move to Ontario. Obviously. So with two months left in the school year, my mom packed us up (leaving most of our stuff behind) to go live with a man she had never met in person before. So began School 4. Which we will cover next time. I promise God will start showing up during that time.

Thank you for baring with me as a drabble on about my life. I keep thinking of things that are going on now that I just want to share, but sometimes you need the back story before you can get the now story. Cause the now story wouldn't be here without the back story.

Anyway, I should be stopping this now (gotta go to sleep. Seriously need to stop doing this to myself)

Good time to you all.

Hollie.