Mine

Mine

Whose is it? The words stung, but I really wasn’t surprised. To be honest, I had expected it. I was twenty-four and up until that point, I had lived a fairly shallow existence: going from one party to the next; drinking to the point of passing out and doing just about anything else I wanted. Why not? I worked two jobs, had an apartment, a car and I paid my own way. I was legally an adult and I had no one to answer to. Until now. Now I was going to have someone to answer to. I would be responsible for someone else. My shallow little existence had come to an end and I didn’t even know how much my life would change and how great this change would be for me.
As a child, I was painfully shy. During adolescence, I realized that alcohol was a great confidence builder. It made me the person I always wanted to be. I was confident, outgoing and always the life of the party. At least that was what I thought at the time. It was some years later while under this misapprehension, I met and fell in love with Travis, the father of my children. At first glance, I knew I was in trouble. He pulled up on his motorcycle, longhair flowing, and an even longer line of girls just waiting to be at his side. He was the epitome of a bad boy and I suffered from low self -esteem; we were a match made for dysfunction and heartbreak.
Travis and I had been set up by a “friend” I had met while painting little forest animals at United Design in Noble. He and her boyfriend had grown up together; they were partners in crime and she wanted to share the wealth. I had only moved to Noble about a month before and I had grown lonely and tired of staying home alone and staring at the dingy walls off my cramped low rent apartment while the rest of the world continued to revolve around me. So, she set us up on the premise that it would just be a casual get together. She had mentioned he was really nice looking so I took great pains to return the favor and look my best by replacing the layer of paint I had acquired at work with a fresh coat to my face that somewhat enhanced the places that needed a little help. Before leaving, I made the decision to change from the sensible shoes I had been wearing into a pair that may not have been comfortable but were more pleasing to the eye by enhancing my (then) toned and shapely calf muscles.
My friend lived in Norman with her boyfriend whom she happened to be ten years older than. Tina was older than all of us and she had moved in circles I had only been warned about. I knew I would be way out of my league but she had been nice to invite me and I had always been good at adapting to new situations. I arrived early, so that I would be able to get a look at him before we were introduced. As he walked in, I took one look at that tall frame, the dark skin and big brown eyes that could see right through an innocent young girl from small town nowhere, and my breath left my body taking with it any hope of ever surviving this encounter. He was HOT and mysterious in ways I knew would be the end of me. I was in trouble and there was no backing out. For better or worse this was going to happen.
Before heading out to the club, we decided to indulge in a few party favors. I was so overwhelmed by his appearance that I would have taken anything to ease the tight grip that my anxiety had taken over me. After a couple shots I felt the warmness take hold rendering me capable of conversation and most importantly flirtation. It was time to go. By the time we arrived I was feeling not the least bit insecure and ready for anything the night had to offer.
When we walked in the guys went to secure our table and buy the first round of drinks. I heard my song booming throughout the club’s speakers so Tina and I headed off to the dance floor. I tend to get a little over excited about my dancing ability after a few shots- I had had about six- so this was going to be my moment to shine. Having forgotten about the hasty change of shoes before leaving, I took off in a mad dash to secure my place on the dance floor and just as soon as my new sexy shoes hit the slick surface, I got a face full of it. It was not a graceful fall, it was an all out battle between me and the floor and I was losing; I had the bruises the next morning to prove it. But I recovered between beats and laughed about it the rest of the night. Travis never mentioned it and I told myself he probably never saw it because that helped my wounded pride. The rest of the night was great, we all had a fun time and ended it at Tina’s house. We were too drunk to drive home so Travis and I decided to share the couch. Nothing happened; we stayed up talking and made plans for the next night.
After that night, our relationship became a non-stop party and as long as there were no responsibilities and I didn’t take up for myself, we would last forever; it was the perfect situation for both of us. He would treat me like a best friend until I was drunk enough to not notice what an ass he was. I was only keeping up my end of the deal by getting so drunk I didn’t notice that he was hitting on some skeeze while sending her friends over to keep me occupied. Sometimes, what you think is perfection, is just what gets you through until perfection comes along.
After about a year of this, I had grown tired and the good times stopped being good. The bad times only got worse. I knew it was only a matter of time before I would start feeling the urge to move on. But sometimes, we are most comfortable with what is familiar and I had grown comfortable with and developed a fondness for his constant abuse of my pride and self esteem. To be honest, I probably didn’t have much of either before I met him. I couldn’t imagine living without him and I would not allow myself the privilege of thinking that I deserved better. It would have to be something big to make me look outside of my little box and realize life without him was possible.

I’m pregnant. It’s amazing the effect that two little words can have on someone. The same two little words that can bring happiness to some, can lead others to despair. A certain reaction to these words can also change the way you look at a person and how you feel about that person. This was the case of my feelings for Travis. His reaction was the something big I was searching for. Whose did he think it was? I had spent every waking hour for the past year adoring his every move and could never even fathom the thought much less try to be with anyone else. It was just his way of saying something to hurt me for allowing something like this to happen and causing him a moment of inconvenience. Our relationship had run its course and I had known it for a while but it wasn’t until I saw and heard his reaction, to my two little words, that it hit home. For him, they were the scariest words ever spoken. For me, it was the end of the party. Its not that I had an aversion to babies, I had always thought someday I would have some, when things were different, maybe when Travis and I were actual grownups. But it just wasn’t what I thought I needed at the time; I was having too much fun. I was so caught up in how this was going to change things for me and my party; I didn’t realize it was the beginning of something great. My party didn’t end. It just changed a little. I had a new party to go to and this one didn’t involve alcohol.
All alcoholic beverages must be left at the door before entering parenthood. I couldn’t drink; I had an actual person growing inside my body and I had to make my decisions based on that fact. Up until that point, I had not been very smart about my lifestyle and making healthy choices for my body, but I knew the importance of living healthy for the baby, and drinking was off limits. For the first time in a long time, I had to be Christi. I had to stand on my own two feet without relying on drink to give me courage. I had to consider someone other than myself; I had to grow up and become an adult and I had nine months to do it in. For once in my life, I had a reason, a purpose to do and be better.
I left Travis several times over the course of six years and each time he made a change and I took him back. He stopped drinking, got a job and tried to be a husband for a while. But sometimes you just can’t make a square peg fit into a round hole. Sometimes two people are just that, two people with different ideas of how they want to live. We had a total of three children together and we both cherish each one as much as the other. We eventually realized that although we had been through so much together, our lives were destined to be lived apart. Now we have a great working relationship instead of ourselves we focus on our children and this works. I had been asked a question once that no matter how hard I tried to overlook it, it remained inside my head forever haunting the way I saw him so I walked away.

He was born March 22, 1996; and was 8lb. 12oz. 22and ¼ inches long. He had ten little fingers, ten little toes and just as a reminder of whom he came from, big blue eyes and curly little ringlets of hair that stuck to his scalp. He was then and is now my very reason for life. To this day he looks at me as if I could do no wrong and I am thankful for it. He has shown me how strong and confident I can be. He has led me here, taking this class and being the best person I can be. I want to lead by example and show him the way, and guide him to make better decisions than I ever did. I named him Taylor Iralee Carruth, after my grandfather, because I was once asked, “Whose is it.” He is mine and I am proud to call him son.