My Wildest Moment ... or, moments?

The truth?

I've been dreading this post. 

I signed up because Krystal forced me to I wanted to support Krystal's Wildest Moments Blog Tour, and I thought to myself "I'll think of something." I even mentioned my hesitation to Krystal, and she said something along the lines of "Didn't you used to work at a bar?" 

Well, yes, I did. But that's not necessarily wild. 

I'm not necessarily wild. 

But really, I guess I've had a lot of wild moments in my life. Maybe to some people, my life was extremely wild. Maybe to others, my life was tame. 

I grew up in Southern California - south Orange County to be more specific. Mission Viejo to be exact. 

When I was in 7th Grade, I was mad at my parents for grounding me, so I ran away from home. You're probably thinking that's pretty wild. But, I digress, I called my mom from the payphone at school and told her exactly where I'd be. 

"Mom, I'm running away, and you can't stop me. I'll be at {location}."

Did she stop me? No. She could have. I mean, she did know exactly where I was. But no, she waited until I called her in tears the next morning because I'd gotten drunk for the first time and had my first hangover. She picked me up, nursed me back to health, and then extended my grounding. 

By 8th grade I was smoking cigarettes and pot.  Which was wild for some, but in my group of friends, I was the tame one. While other kids were stealing their parent's cars, I was still too afraid of my parents to even sneak out my window. 

I learned early on in life that my parents knew every time I lied to them. I don't know if they were just super-heroes, or if other parents were in denial. But one way or another, I would always get caught. 

One of the times I lied to my parents, was when I spent the night at a boy's house instead of at my friend's house where I said I'd be. That was in 8th grade, I believe.

When my mom knocked on the door the next morning, I think I died. Literally. DIED. 

His parents hadn't known I was there either, so you can imagine the hell we both experienced after that. 

My "wild" life only progressed from there.

At 15, I was sneaking off to Tijuana, Mexico with my friends. We would all say we were sleeping at each other's houses, wait till whoever's parents went to bed, then sneak out and hop into the family van my friend drove. We'd pick up the guys or any other friends coming along, and head down south. We could go down there with ID's that said we were 18, drink all night at the bars, and come back in the wee hours of the morning, our parents never the wiser.

We even got into a car accident once because our designated driver fell asleep at the wheel. We had to hitchhike from San Diego back up to Mission Viejo (a good hour+). Can you imagine? A group of 15 and 16 year old boys and girls hitchhiking at 4am. 

It makes me sick to think about as a mother.  

When my dad died at 16, things got worse. I became more wild, and she became less able to figure things out. Or maybe, that was when her denial kicked in. I don't know. But I know that I cannot comprehend her grief during that time, and I also know that I took full advantage of it. 

From about 17 on, I was partying in LA and Vegas. Night clubs, after hours parties, older guys, etc. I was still the same innocent-but-trying-to-be-wild girl I'd always been, but I was becoming even more drawn to the glamour of being a free spirit. I wanted to be wild. 

I left my mom's house when I was 19. I lived in Lake Havasu. I lived in Las Vegas. I lived in various places in Southern California. That part of my life was definitely wild, but there's nothing specific that I care to share with the group. 

I met my husband when we were both 22. I was pregnant within 5 months. 

That to many, can be considered wild. But though it was a very trying time in my life, it was anything but wild. That surprise pregnancy was my gateway into adulthood. That baby was my reason to give up wild and become the person I was meant to be. 

My mom always trusted in God - trusted that she'd raised me right, even if I was screwing that up, and trusted that I would come back to her. My daughter is a constant reminder of that blind faith. 

So whether my life was more or less wild than yours, I'm okay with that. because what matters is who I am now. I am a mother and a wife, a loyal friend, a determined writer ... I am who I was always meant to be, and my wild moments carved out the path to where I am now. 

"I always knew you'd come back." 

I did come back, Mom.