My life. And why it's different.

I have been toying with the idea of changing up my blog. A lot. I needed a clever name and a snazzy layout, neither of which has happened. But I think I am cool with that. Tonight, I changed it: Life, With Sass. Lame, yes. However...I think I have an idea to make it work. See, my step mother has always called me "Sassy." My name is Sha-Ray. Sassysharay obviously sounds good, since it what I use for everything. But I also have a story to tell. A story about what I have been through. My life, to date, which makes me the person that I am today. The only reason that I feel like I can do this is because my family really doesn't know about this blog. I used to have it connected to Facebook so that my posts showed up there as notes, but I recently took it down, because all of my family has Facebook. If I want it posted there, I will post it there. But I promised a story, so here it is:

My early childhood was normal, for the most part. I mean, as normal as can be, right? And who am I to define what 'normal' is anyway? Each person/situation is different, therefore there really is no 'normal'. Anyway, that's a different story.

My parents fought a lot when I was a child. They weren't meant for each other, and probably the only thing good that came out of that marriage was my sister and I. They got divorced in 2001, I believe. My dad met someone else. Not that it matters, but to respect confidentiality we will call her "Jane." My dad worked with "Jane" and became good friends with her. They were both married when they met, and they even started hanging out with each other and their spouses. Well, to make a long, boring, not pertinent story short, my dad ended up marrying "Jane."

This is pretty much where my life changed. Drastically. I mean, it was slow, so I didn't see it. But I pretty much went from being a child to an adult. "Jane" had three kids, and my dad had my sister and I. We all lived together, my father got custody of us, however I don't remember why. For the first 6 months or so, we were an okay family. Yeah, Dad and "Jane" fought. A lot. But I was used to it. Remember? My parents had been fighting all of my life. Why would it seem strange? Anyway, "Jane" tried to be friends with my sister and I from the start.

Backtrack a bit:
Summer of 2001, my sister and I were staying with my grandmother in Florida, as we did every summer. My dad came down with "Jane" to pick us up to take us back to Alabama. My sister and I did not know "Jane" at this point, we did not even know that our father was coming down there to pick us up, if I remember correctly. We hung out with them for a while, went to the beach, went to a friends house and swam in their pool. "Jane" bought my sister and I swimsuits, we couldn't figure out what was up, and again, if I remember correctly, I didn't really expect anything. When we got back to Alabama, mother and dad sat us down and told us that they were divorcing. I remember going back into my room and crocheting a scarf. I don't know why. I was not upset.

Back to the story. We were living in Florida, but dad and "Jane" couldn't find jobs so we moved back to Alabama. They both started working, so I was paid to babysit. The term 'babysit' actually turned into 'slave who does whatever she is told' but that is what this story is leading up to, isn't it?

To make a long story short(er), I babysat. All the time. I never really did anything. I think I can count the times I spent the night with someone from the time I was in 5th grade until I graduated high school on my fingers. I can count the times I went out to the mall and hung out with friends on my fingers. I can count the number of things I was -allowed- to do at school on one hand. I cooked, I did laundry, I cleaned. For a family of 7. No. It doesn't sound all that bad. But I started all of this when I was 10 years old. I was never allowed to have an actual childhood. I went to the mall with my sister just the other day, and there were groups of kids hanging out in the mall, and, try as I might, I could not figure out the point of it. What is the point of getting up a group of people, dressing up like you are going clubbing, and just sitting at the food court of the mall. And I assume the reason I cannot understand this is because when I think of all the times when I was out alone with friends in the mall...oh...that's right....I can't think of any. Yeah, this one time I went to the mall with Robin and her mom. (Friend) But all I really remember from it was my "Jane" calling and making me come home early because she needed someone to watch her children.

I was a mother. I was a mother of four children when I was ten years old. Well, I am exaggerating a wee bit. I didn't start fully taking care of her children until after we moved to Ohio, which was in 2004/2005. And then, I think I got about 6 months to a year because we lived with "Jane's" mother. But, after we moved into our own house, "Jane" started working 3rd shift and my dad went back over the road. (He was a truck driver) It was my sole responsibility to do the laundry for every inhabitant of the house, provide the children with food, clean up after them, make sure they bathed, brushed their teeth, did their chores/homework, and went to school. I also had to shop for groceries, and make sure the yard work got done. And when money was tight, I had to figure out a way to make things work. I remember one night, we had barely any food in the house, and I had to conjure up something for the kids for dinner. I ended up making butter noodles. Butter and freakin angel hair pasta. I think I added garlic or something to make it edible. I have served mac and cheese and hot dogs/ramen noodles/walmart rice-a-roni and fried bologna more times that I can even possibly count.

Now, all of this wouldn't have been that bad, but...my father and "Jane" aren't the world's greatest parents by a long shot. I didn't get much thanks or recognition. And if I slipped up and forgot to do something, like start the dishwasher or do a load of laundry, I was grounded for two weeks. No music, no phone, no friends. Now, yes. I realize that I had responsibilities that I had to address, but I was treated different than my siblings. No, they weren't treated great either, but they had much more leeway than I did. They could go without doing their chores for a week and nothing happen, but heaven forbid I go one day.

I was also put down a lot by my father. Don't get me wrong, he was alright most of the time, but I could never make him truly happy. He was always calling me stupid. Always degrading me. Always calling me lazy. Always calling me a bitch. Ungrateful. Spiteful. You name it.
So...let me go on to say: I was a model student. All A's. Valedictorian. I did everything I could to please my father and "Jane." And, yeah, every once in a while they said they were proud of me. But they still called me stupid. Lazy. Bitch. Ungrateful. Spiteful.

I realize that I am kind of jumping around here. But, the story is a hard one to tell, considering that I didn't see it happening.

One thing that still bothers me today. "Jane" and my father really weren't big on us kids showing emotions. We weren't allowed to cry. We got in trouble for crying. Me? When I get angry, I cry. When I am getting yelled at, I cry. When I am upset, I cry. When I get stressed, I cry. AND I DO NOT DO IT FOR PITY. I DO NOT DO IT FOR "BROWNIE POINTS". I DO NOT DO IT TO GET MY WAY. I DO NOT DO IT TO MAKE PEOPLE FEEL BAD. I don't know how many times I have been accused of the previous statements. But, because of this, it is really hard for me to show my emotions now. I do still cry easily, but I try not to. Because I have been conditioned to think that crying isn't allowed. I also don't really speak my mind as much as I should.

And, because of the many years where I was a live-in maid that pretty much did EVERYTHING I was told, I have a really hard time saying "no" to people.

Anyway, I was promised a lot by my father and "Jane". A lot that was never, ever delivered. I gave my childhood away because they didn't want to hire a real babysitter. I never really got the time to just be a kid, to just enjoy the little things in life. Like, I wanted to be in band in high school. To much of a commitment. I wanted to stay the night at my friends' houses. Too bad. I had to baby sit. All the time. I never really ever spent the night at friends houses in high school unless there was a party or something. And that happened once.

Anyway...I think this is going to be a continuing story. Or one in which I post random bits and pieces until I feel content.

This is the first time I have done anything like this.

Sassy