I was 17 when I started my freshman year of college. I had an academic merit scholarship, and I made Honor Roll both semesters of my freshman year. I was the ideal student, as far as those around me were concerned.
I was also in an abusive relationship.
There was a lot that went into my decision to not return to University of Dallas (a private college with a strong core curriculum). A lot of it was due to me being 18, trying to find myself, and some of it due to poor advice from my ex. That being said, I spent my sophomore year of college at PennState and made Dean’s List.
At 19 I got married and moved across the country. The only things of mine that I had with me were what could fit into my backpack. I didn’t know anyone, and I was told that I had to get a job and finish my degree online.
For the first time in my life, I failed a class. For the first time in my life, I had to withdraw from classes, so I didn’t fail them. Between that and hearing my ex-husband tell me on a daily basis how I could never accomplish anything without him, I was needy and could not take care of myself, and I was lucky because no one else would want me, amongst other things, I was convinced I would never get a degree and that I was a failure.
I was 21 when I filed divorce paperwork. I was still on the other side of the country from my family, and I was struggling to make ends meet in a city where the cost of living was astronomical compared to my backwoods town in Maine. I was terrified of telling anyone the truth, because I was convinced I had brought it on myself and deserved every bit of it.
At 22 I moved across the country at the urging of my best friend. I felt like I had something to prove. I took two college classes to try and convince myself I wasn’t a complete failure, just for fun, really. It wasn’t like I would ever have time to get a degree - I had moved past that and had to make ends meet. That meant a job, even one I didn’t like.
I made an A in both classes.
I still didn’t think I could ever finish my degree.
At 24, I decided that maybe I might be able to swing it. I had switched careers, and massage therapy provided a more flexible schedule than banking. I had something to prove. I looked at Hollins, and started in the spring semester.
However, I had also stopped much-needed therapy for PTSD, and was on a medication that was making me worse. I was getting married, which sent my PTSD flaring, and we were buying a house. I had only recently changed careers. I spent a week in the psych ward of the hospital. I was devastated, and again terrified of what others would think. At the suggestion of my doctor, psychiatrist, and therapist, I took a medical leave of absence and did not complete that semester.
The difference between this time and California, however, was that I had been learning to open myself up to people and how to rely on them, and that it was *ok* to rely on them.
I walked onto the Hollins campus at 25 to start the fall semester, not entirely unconvinced that I didn’t have a sign on my forehead broadcasting my failures. But I don’t take the easy way - I never have. My mother has (for some unknown reason) called me a strong-willed child. It was my junior year, and I changed my major. I finished the semester on Dean’s List.
Short Term started in January, and just when I thought that things had settled down, my entire life changed, thanks to a positive pregnancy test. I took those 8 principles of survival, though, and despite the nausea and exhaustion, I finished my course and continued on to spring semester. Which, whilst pregnant, I also finished with Dean’s List.
So if you have *anything* you’d like to say that is something other than encouraging, you can shut up. I *will* prove you wrong. Because of what I’ve been through, I don’t take people looking down on me very well.
I don’t appreciate that I had to argue to get to do an Honors Thesis, when the only reason against it was *pregnancy*.
I don’t appreciate being asked multiple times if I won’t just take the semester off, since I’m having a baby. If I’ve already said that’s not the choice I want to make, the ONLY acceptable reaction for you is to be supportive and encouraging.
Yes, I am starting my senior year with childbirth. But if you’re too busy freaking out over a baby, you’re missing the important parts to this story.
Being a parent doesn’t make me any less capable of being a student. Being a parent and a student at the same time makes me a goddamned superhero and if you can’t see that, then we don’t need to be friends. I have a limited amount of time to slay villains now, and I would appreciate not getting blood on burp cloths.
stormborns
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kaledo-art
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yousharknotpass
