Where have I been and where am I going?

I was born in New York, but moved to Tennessee at a few months old. I lived there until I was seven, then it was back to New York, where I’ve been ever since. I go back every summer–my mom’s family lives down there, and it’s nice to relax with the grass and the horses and other country stuff, once in a while. Only once in a while, though; I could never live there. I may be “from” Tennessee, but New York is my home.

When we moved back up here, my parents divorced. That was a trip. Statistically speaking, I’m sure many of you have experienced exactly what I’m talking about, so you know what it’s like. If not, then just know that it’s hard. I lived with my dad, and he got remarried. Then divorced. Married again. Divorced. It became my life goal at fifteen to never take marriage and kids as seriously as my dad did.

Now I live with my mom. Things are calm, and we get along well. We watch the same shows: Law & Order, Mad Men, 30 Rock, Intervention. On almost every episode of Intervention, they roll a montage of the subject’s childhood–how they were neglected or abused, lost a relative, a friend, a pet. They are always the victim of their upbringing, so when they lose control of their adult lives, it’s understood. Almost expected. But, I don’t buy it.

From my experience, almost everyone has a story like that. I have found that the way people react to life separates them from each other; one can either surrender and become a “victim of life” (as an old friend once called herself) or take control and make the life they desire. Sure, my childhood wasn’t the best, but objectively, it could have been worse. Am I a victim? Absolutely not, and I will never be one. I refuse to allow myself to be subdued by situations that were completely beyond me, when I now have the power to make things better for myself. I am responsible for me.