Chapter One:
Skinny JennyI just want to start by saying that I had a really strong supportive family when I was growing up. My mom was a stay at home mom until I was a teenager. My dad was the main disciplinary parent but he was also my biggest fan when it came to my artwork. I also had incredible grandparents who my two siblings and I spent quite a bit of time with and they were the top of the scale as far as role models go.
The thing is although we may have strong and positive role models when growing up, I feel we are born with somewhat of a base personality and environment can only enrich and nourish that to a point and vice verse. For as long as I can remember and that is pretty very far back, I had very low self esteem. My family tried to bring it up and they did a great job by telling me what a talented artist I was and it really was a big confidence builder throughout my teen years especially.
I was "Skinny Jenny" in a negative context at school. I would see these other girls get the boy and it made me feel very ugly. Typical teenager worries and paranoia. But even as a young child I remember being swayed to give my favorite toys and trinkets away just so someone could be my "friend". And again, I think this is common.
Fast forward to junior high again, I had my little group of pals. I always had a sense of humour and trended to surround myself with like minded but awkward friends. In my ninth grade year I met a boy and he thought I was really funny. At least that is what I thought attracted him. But looking back, ultimately I think it was my lack of self confidence and how easily I was swayed and manipulated into doing things that he wanted. I am in no way bashing him. He afterall, was a teenager too with his own set of issues and did not know any better. I started dating him and he was my first real boyfriend.
The funny thing is, I was not really attracted to him. I just wanted to be like everyone else. It was not the healthiest of relationships. I was made to feel and even straight out told that I was ugly or even go as far as letting him pick out my clothes and talking me into wearing thick make up to hide my face. So far this is sounding like a John Hughes movie...lol. Stay with me I will get to my point of the story in time : )
Finally made it to high school and halfway through my first year...
Bam...pregnant! If it weren't for the support and love I received from my family, I would not have survived let alone graduated from high school. On a side note, my parents were going through a really rough time simultaneously with the death of my dad's mom which resulted in my relatives fighting over the estate and my parents losing their home. But that is another story for another time. My point is, I had fabulous parents and grandparents that gave everything they could to help me and I only wish that I had showed/told them that I really was thankful for them when they were on this earth (later in my story...it is what actually catapulted me into my journey).
Enter the next strong supporter in my life, my art teacher whom I will just call "Mrs. H". She had been out of school having a baby of her own (ironically) so I had not met her at the beginning of the school year. From the start she was awesome. As you can imagine I was really at a low esteem level at this point. Mrs. H did not see the big bump on my tummy or judge me as a "bad or reckless" teen, she just saw the potential in me. I really needed that!
She inspired me to keep my dream alive of becoming an artist. After I had the baby, she sent me to art camp,I became art club president my senior year, made my talent stronger, and just kept me positive. I believe that she was instrumental in creating my positive outlook I carry today and try to share with anyone that will listen.
What no one could see was that my "skinny Jenny" body had been ravaged by this time with horrible stretch marks. Oh yes, my mom got me a tub of the best stretch mark creme to prevent this but genetics are what they are. Apparently, I had absolutely no elastin or collagen in my skin. At 16 it was devastating. One thing I have not mentioned, I had taken dance classes since I was 4 years old and continued to do so until I was 8 and a half months pregnant. I love "the dance" : D
But to my dismay, nothing protected my skin from stretch mark monster. They were as bad as they come. They were
EVERYWHERE!We were married after the baby was born. And even back then as a teenager, I remember thinking "What am I doing". But I thought it was "the right thing to do". My grandmother was a church secretary for 44 years and the church set of morals definitely played a hand in that decision. Also the fact that I felt uglier than ever. Between the rips and tears in my skin and the huge pouch of loose skin I had hanging, I just knew no one else would ever want me. This was my thought at 16 years young. Very sad.
I still believe to this day that everything happens for a reason. My husband and I graduated from high school. I even received the school's "Art Award" and was very proud. I had a scholarship waiting for me to go to art school in Florida and I was ready to take on the world. My daughter was the most precious little thing in the world and again...thank GOD for my family!
My dad had moved to South Florida a few months before I graduated from high school. My mom and siblings, hubby, daughter, and I soon joined him. I loved Florida. I started working as a retail asst manager in a mall. Actually at one point was asst manager in three different stores at the same time...Ahh, to be 18 years young, vivacious, and a little clueless all at the same time ; ))
We were living with my parents and wanted to be able to get a place of our own and be more independent.
Little did I know that my dream of being an artist was just about to begin.To be continued...