I was, seriously. No joke. My parents aren’t the most conservative so if you had told them ten years ago that one of their precious baby girls would be a *gasps* teen mom, well to be honest I doubt they’d have been that surprised. But then, my little sister has been boy crazy since she was two. No joke, “Mama that waiter is soooo prettyyyyyy!” wasn’t uncommon for my her to say upon sighting an attractive waiter at any restaurant. I was more the fantasize over fictional characters in fantasy novels type. It’s not that I didn’t notice guys, they were just more trouble than they were worth and boys in books looked as dreamy as I wanted them to, without reeking of B.O.
Then there was this one guy. He was a total arrogant prick. I bet he even thought that he was smarter than my thirteen year old genius self. (Um no.) And then he facebooked me!(?) He was popular and hot. And he read books with actual words in them and without complaining about how boring they were. And oh shit I didn’t hate him anymore….. I kindof liked his confidence and witty sense of humor that paralleled my own. And for some reason the fact that I didn’t give a flying fuck about being cool and that I noticed the brain behind those deep hazel eyes, caught his attention.
That was the beginning of a YEAR long cat and mouse game that I eventually gave up on and by default became the one to actually admit I liked him first. Four years later I’m wearing his ring and planning my future with him.
So just to clarify I lost my virginity (at sixteen) to my first boyfriend. That I married. And aside from being ostracized from virtually everyone I know for being a whore and dealing with a severe yet un-diagnosed case of depression, I’m really happy. I love my husband. I love my baby. I don’t live that hilarious-yet-tragic, dramatic lifestyle that is “teen mom 2” I just happen to have some screamo in the background while I play patty cake with my 6 month old, and she doesn’t even mind.
The moral of this story: Teen moms aren’t inherently psychotic, pot-smoking, drama queens that need CPS called on them. Sometimes they’re just good girls who didn’t want to admit to their moms that they needed “the pill” because they didn’t want to disappoint them.