Crossroads in Life

In an attempt to post more consistently and to keep my mind sharp(ish) I am going to try my luck at joining Sometimes Sweet's weekly journal prompts.

This week's prompt:

"Everyone has a time in their life they view as a crossroad. Sometimes you can see it as it's happening, and you're able to choose one way or another. Other times you may not realize you're there until you look back, and see what a turning point it really was. This week, write about a time you view as a marker in your life; a distinct place where things changed, for better or worse. "

The one time in my life that I truly consider a crossroad is when I decided to move in to my Dad's house. From my parents divorce until I was about 16 I lived with my mother. I was always a Daddy's girl growing up but my brother was older and he picked to live with my mother.

As we grew up I grew increasingly sad and hating living at my mother's house. I loved my step-dad and my brothers and sister but I did not like living with my mother. She did things that made me lose all respect for her and I hated how she made my step-dad feel. I had also been falsely convinced that my dad was not the greatest man so I felt I had nowhere to go.  

By the time I was driving I was only there because I had a car, I know that sounds horrible but I was to the point that I only cared what my step-dad thought and I wanted to be there for my little brother and sister. One day I had pushed the line with my mother and she took the car away from me. {Mind you I had great grades, never got in trouble in school, never broke curfew, I had a job, never asked for money and I did what good kids do. } I am not going to go into all that happened, but I stood up for myself and by doing so showed my mother that I truly had no respect or feelings towards her at all. 

At this time I called my dad whom I had not had a real conversation with in a long time asking to move in with him. He told me absolutely and that I should go on the trip that was planned with my mother to visit my grandfather who lived in Missouri which was happening that next day.  The trip was uneventful but I was able to visit with my grandfather that I barely see which was good. 

The day we got home, everyone left to go to my Granny's house and I packed my stuff and called my Dad. By the time everyone got home I was gone. (Yes I know how crappy that is) I called my step-dad and told him and he understood, he knew how I felt and he supported my decision and told me he would always be there for me. 

The part of this story where I noticed the change then started to happen. I was no longer sad or angry. I lived with 2 parents that I was able to respect and love and who loved and respected me back. I had goals and ambitions that I had not previously had. They encouraged and even helped me get into college. My grades were still great, I was still a good kid but this time I was not getting in trouble for dating someone that my mother hated. I was able to get closer to me dad and my eyes were opened to what I had not known about my mother. 

Because of my move I gained a great support group that I had not previously had. I was able to go to and finish college, I got a great job that I still have and I was able to start on getting my teaching certificate. I honestly do not know where I would be right now if I had not moved out, all I do know is that it was the smartest and most productive thing I have ever done.  I am glad I got away from the toxic environment that I was in and I wish I could have take my sister out of it with me. I should also mention that my step-dad and mother did divorce and I am still incredibly close to him. He walked me down the aisle with my Dad at my wedding.   

Want to join me on my journaling adventure?