According to Amanda

The Sex Talk - OMG

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 23:43:10 GMT

So what would you do if your 13 year old girl came to you and told you her friend, also 13, told your daughter that she had had sex with her boyfriend without a condom the night before? Would you tell her to no longer hang around that friend? Would you get flustered? Scared? Angry?

Well I was faced with just that statement a couple weeks ago.

My daughter Faith and I have a very trusting relationship. We are able to talk openly about anything mostly due to past circumstances which I have yet to discuss here in my blog. It was, however, still a surprise that she came to me and confessed what her friend had bragged to her that very morning. As a parent who has had the "tip toe around the details Sex Talk" with her teenagers, I was relieved that when it came right down to it that my daughter actually trusted me enough to come to me with such a huge issue that she had been entrusted with. I know I certainly wouldn't have gone to my mother.

Faith was completely shocked that someone her age had actually had sex. And not only sex but unprotected sex. I asked Faith what she thought of what her friend had told her. She replied that she had told her friend how disappointed she was in her for having sex and how irresponible it was for her friend to not even care for herself enough to protect herself. She then told me that her friend had also told Ranisha, my other daughter, so I brought Ranisha into the conversation.

Ranisha didn't participate too much in the conversation. I think she finds it more uncomfortable to talk to me about such things. Faith, on the other hand, has a different bond with me and seems to be able to open up to about things much better than her twin. I still talk to them about the same things in the same manner and hope that even if I can't get through to Ranisha that her sister will be there to enforce the information I have to share with them.

It was time, in my opinion, to be completely open on the sex issue. I made it completely clear that I was not going to tell them that they were not allowed to have sex but instead I told them that I hoped that I had raised them to have enough self respect and enough self love that they would wait until they were ready for such a big step in life. That it was a moment in life they could never take back. They could never have that moment to do over.

I then explained that if and when they were in a relationship with a boy (they've been told no dating till at least 15) and they thought that maybe things may progress to a sexual level, be it sex or oral sex that I didn't want to know but I would like them to have birth control pills and to never, never, never do anything without a condom. That lead us to my computer where I told them that teenage pregnancy was the least of their worries. I did a search on Yahoo for sexually transmitted diseases and went right to the pictures. After reading through the more commonly known diseases, I then explained to them AIDS.

You may not agree with my methods and honestly I don't give a shit. My thoughts behind my thinking is that teenagers will do what they want no matter what their parents tell them. You see it everyday. From sex to drugs to alcohol to smoking. They'll do it just to spite their parents. What their parents aren't doing is being honest and open with their kids. I'm trying something different than what my parents did with me. Maybe if my mother or someone, anyone had talked to me about sex and the consequences of what could have happened or drugs or alcohol I may have made different chooses. I'll never know. My children on the other hand will make informed decisions. They will know what the consequences of their actions may be. So that when it is time for them to make those decisions that their knowledge combined with their self love and respect will influence those decisions and not ignorance or loathing of a parent or a search for love. I love my daughters way to much to leave them unprepared and at risk. How could a parent live if their child came to them because they had made a mistake and ended up with a disease or AIDS because that parent never prepared their son or daughter for the harsh realities that lie just on the other side of that door. I couldn't live with that.

It's funny. When your planning to have kids you have a set path or plan for the type of parent you want to be and the type of person your child will hopefully grow up to be. Then as the years go by and things happen and circumstances change so does your parenting style, so does the child change.

I've made several changes as a parent from the way I was raised. In fact, my parenting book is being written day by day based off the notion of not being like my mother. I have ended a relationship and a marriage because of my girls. I have cut family ties to keep them from being hurt the way I had been. The one thing my girls know, without a doubt, is that I will always be their rock. They know, know matter what, I will always love them and be there for them . . if no one else, I will be there through it all. I am the beginning of the family that I have always wanted and within them I hope to instill the values I wish my own mother and family would have instilled in me.

My daughters are my world. There is no love like that of mine for them. I know, with no doubt, that if I were to die tomorrow my daughters will go on living and knowing that I loved them with everything I had. With that knowledge I know as a parent I'm doing a pretty good job.

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Post your comments or email me at amanda@accordingtoamanda.com I look forward to hearing what you have to say. =)

If you like this article or any other article I've written so far why not click the Digg.com button below and let other's know what you think. Thanks, Amanda.

About Me - Part 15

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 13:32:48 GMT

The summer before I moved back home was one of my more memorable summers of my teenage hood.

That summer was the first time I saw the Aurora Borealis while I was at a camp for "troubled" youth. In other words, a camp for kids in group homes and foster care. The lights in the sky were beautiful. Something that every person in the world should try to experience at least once in their lives. It's one of those moments that humbles us to how simply beautiful and stunning nature can be.

As for camp that summer, it was a great experience. I learned that summer how to be a kid. If only for one week, I thought of nothing but the fun I was having. We had late night camp fires, canoing, swimming. Everything a kid would do at camp. There were no pressures of life, no thoughts of suicide, this was a happy place. A place were life seemed to wait on the other side of the door.

When the week was over life began again. I remember the bus ride back to reality. A lot of us cried. I don't think it was because we would miss each other, instead we were sad to be going back to the lives we all left behind.

I remember one girl who had moved into the group home about 4 or 5 months after me, her name was Leona. She was 13 years old and so full of life. She was always laughing and joking around and quickly clung to some of us that were older. She became the little sister I never had. Her father had sexually molested her and raped her several times. You'd never know it by her outward bubbly personality. It was her eyes that told of the pain. A few months later she'd be gone. The next we heard of her she had been taken to Montreal by some guy and put on the streets to prostitute for him. She was 14 years old. I talked to Leona a few years later when she was 18, how she found my phone number I'll never know but she called to tell me she had 2 kids and was happy. She never did tell me whether she was still working the streets or not. I still miss the little girl I met 20 years ago.

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Just before school started that September, I was in my room at the group home packing my things to move back to my mother and step fathers thinking of all the people I would miss and all the crazy things that had happened over the last year. Marion, one of the women who worked at the home (my key councilor), came in to tell me what a pleasure it had been having me at the home and how much they were all going to miss me. She handed me a card, hugged me and left me to my packing. All the ladies that worked there, Marion, Pam, Kelley, Shelly and Lynn made a huge impact on my life. None of them ever treated you like you were different. In fact, they treated you like you were family and helped you to realize who you really were without all the baggage you originally moved in with.

Staring in at the empty room I smiled to myself. I had come so far during that year. Strong where I was once weak, confident where I was once doubting, fearless where I was once scared to death. Don't get me wrong I was still nervous of things to come, maybe even a bit scared but somehow I knew it'd be ok.

I placed the last box by the door as I waited for my ride and went and took a seat in the office to talk to Marion, Kelley, Pam and Lynn who had been in the middle of a shift change. Pam spoke up and told me that I had been the most improved and responsible girl they had had at the group home in a long time and that she was going to miss me. It was then that I decided to confess my indiscretions and sneaky behavior. Before I started I apologized for not being able to tell them sooner but hey who likes to tell on themselves. I went on to tell them of all the times I had snook out of the house to go see Dwayne or go drinking with friends or the many times I had snook Dwayne into my bedroom at night to have sex or to even stay the night a couple times. I'd never seen jaws drop like I did that day. At first I don't think they even believed me till I told them all the secrets of how I got away with everything. I was glad they ended up getting a good laugh out of it. Funny too how a couple months after I moved out the "Princess Room" I had lived in got renovated and became the new office.

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Moving back home wasn't all that bad. Scott almost seemed like a different person and my mother had seemed to have really missed me. There was never any mention of me leaving. It was as if the last 15 and such years hadn't happened and we were just forgiving and forgetting. I certainly didn't want to cause any tension and if this was my chance at a somewhat normal life I was taking it.

It was 1989 and my first year of High School. I knew everyone! My High School was a melting pot of almost every school I had ever gone to. Just like in my family I fit in no where. Unlike my family though I fit in everywhere. High School was a bunch of clicks, you had your rappers, your metal heads, your preppies and I knew them all. I didn't have many close friends but that was ok I emerged myself in drawing and writing poetry. Life was good. I was as happy as a teenager could be. Home was good, school was good, I had a part time job . . . the world finally felt like it had come into alignment for me.

I should have known better. Good things never lasted in my life. . . .

To Be Continued . . . .

Post your comments or email me at amanda@accordingtoamanda.com I look forward to hearing what you have to say. =)

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A Newfie & His Dog

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 12:16:03 GMT

Another funny one from my friend Shelley.

A Newfie & His Dog

One hot summer day, a Newfie came to town with his dog, tied it under the shade of a tree, and headed into the bar for a cold one.

Twenty minutes later, a policeman entered the bar and asked, 'Who owns the dog tied under that tree outside?'

The Newfie said it was his.

'Your dog seems to be in heat' the officer said.

The Newfie replied, 'No way. She's cool 'cause she's tied up under that shade tree.

The policeman said, 'No! You don't understand. Your dog needs to be bred.'

'No way,' said the Newfie. 'That dog don't need bread. She ain't hungry cause I fed her this mornin'.'

The exasperated policeman said, 'NO! You don't understand; your dog wants to have sex!'

The Newfie looked at the cop and said, 'Well, go ahead . . . I always wanted a police dog.'

LMFAO =)

Amanda

Today & My Mom

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 18:56:43 GMT

Today I received a message through facebook from my cousin Melissa that read as follows:

Hey cousin. i was talkin to Aunt Brenda and she really misses you. i think you would make her year just by giving her a call, she loves you and she loves her grand daughters. she hopes you can find it in your heart to forgive her. you're a mom, what would you do if you were in Aunt B's situation? wouldn't you want your kids to call you?

love ya always,

Melissa

Melissa and I don't really know each other. Just what our own family have told us of each other. She is 12 years younger than I am and since I was never really part of the family many of my cousins never got to know me or anything I was about. Nor did any of them know about any of the things I have written here in my blog. Hence the plea for me to call my mother I suppose. Just a note Melissa if you read this, not trying to be mean but I didn't care to know. I was happy living life without knowledge of how much my mother was hurting.

Here's my message back to Melissa:

Hey Melissa.

It's nice of you to want to try to fix my mother and I's relationship. You don't really know me and I'm sure you assume this to be an easy thing to fix. It's not. You know my mother, her illnesses, and you want to see her happy. I understand that.

Yes. I'm a mom and of course I would want my kids to call me. My relationship with my daughters is much different than that of the one with my mother. I actually have a relationship with my daughters. My daughters are also number ONE in my life. I was last in my mothers life.

Your lucky Melissa. You have a family. I never had a family. My mother was taken from me at the age of nine. I was never invited to Birthdays, holidays, not even Christmas. I had to create my own family which, thanks to God I have finally been able to accomplish. Perhaps in your moments of boredom you could go read my blog and maybe understand a small amount of what it was like growing up me. www.accordingtoamanda.com

Your a sweet girl and I'm sorry that my mother has to feel that pain of losing a daughter. Think to yourself though. Is she sad that I no longer talk to her or is the guilt of turning her back me so many years ago finally come to give her the pain that her daughter has had to deal with for so many years, alone.

Thank you for letting me know that my mother is thinking of me.

Tell your mother hello for me.

Sincerely,
Amanda

For many years my mother has been sick. She has Manic Depression or Bipolar disorder, Lupus and Diabetes. For the most part, the only reason I kept my mother in my life for so long. Or maybe is was the desperate attempt of a daughter to cling to the idea that her mother may someday be a mother.

Well mom, that never happened did it.

About a month before I moved I asked my mother for help. You can imagine, I haven't asked my mother for much help over the years. When I talked to her about the favor I needed from her I specifically told her NOT to mention it to Scott, my stepfather. I knew that if he knew I needed anything from my mother he'd make sure that it didn't happen. To my surprise my mother agreed to the terms and to help me. The day it came down to it, I picked her up just to hear her tell me she couldn't do it cause she told Scott and he said no. I should have known better than to try to rely on my mother for anything.

At first I was disappointed and told my mother not to worry about it. The more I thought about it though the more I realized that she had NEVER helped me with anything. Not with cooking my first meal, to boys and dating to protecting me from the fucking monster she called her husband. NOTHING! So what kind of fucking brain fart was I having the day I thought she'd help me, for real.

None the less. I dropped her off that day after treating her to lunch and haven't spoke to her since.

Today was the first of my mother I've heard of and it's been over a year.

Don't get me wrong. I love my mother despite everything. I just learned to remove the negativity from your life no matter what or who it may be to be able to move on stronger and happier.

Am I going to call her? I don't know. I was thinking about what I should do. I don't want to get into all the years of pain I hold within with her. She doesn't need that. Perhaps I will write my mother a letter and send her pictures. I'll think about everything and decide when I decide.

Your Dream

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 20:36:16 GMT

Someone may have stolen your dream when it was young and fresh and you were innocent

Anger is natural.

Grief is appropriate.

Healing is mandatory.

Restoration is possible.

"Jane Rubietta"

=)

About Me - Part 14

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 18:31:30 GMT

By my 15th Birthday I had completely adapted to my life at the group home. The girls I lived with became my sisters and the staff more like family than strangers that worked with me. My key worker, Marion was like the Aunt I never had. I was able to talk to her more than I had ever talked to another woman in my life before. She helped me with many things and I thought it was important to mention how great I thought and still think this woman was. I thank her for being there and helping me on my journey.

Life wasn't always sunshine and rainbows at the home but it was more like a normal home than the house I had come from. I never had to worry about people being angry and losing their temper with me. I never had to worry about being hit or yelling at me. Yes, there were fights but more like the way sisters fight. I loved all the girls that lived in the group home. Some stick out in my head more than others but they all have a special place in my heart.

My father became very involved in my life. Taking me to ball games with him. Going out for coffee. Driving me to school dances and to my boyfriend Dwayne's house. He has always had a problem showing love but never once missed an opportunity to tell me he loved me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I finally had the dad I always wanted.

Within that year, I built a good relationship with my father, ruined the relationship I had with Dwayne who ended up calling me fat and dating my friend Rhonda, started my first job slinging coffee at Tim Horton's, and grew up a little to fast for any 15 year old girl.

Before Dwayne and I broke up I tried to get pregnant. My rationalization was that if I had a baby, that the baby would love me unconditionally. Messed up? Yes it was. But I was so desperate for that kind of love I didn't think about things such as how I would finish school or how I would provide for a baby. I could only think of the good things that come along with having a child. It was probably best that Dwayne and I broke up when we did. I would have managed to ruin both our young lives. Dwayne broke my heart but not because we broke up, after all I ended it with him trying to manipulate a situation. It was because he was mean to me once we were no longer a couple. He dated my friend and then isolated me, calling me fat and never once said nice things about me once we broke up. I don't think he ever realized how much or how deeply I loved him. I never thought or talked badly about him. I secretly wished for many years afterwords that we would get back together. Even on my wedding day to my first husband I remember day-dreaming about him showing up at the church and proclaiming his undying love for me. Of course it never happened. He moved on as did I. I only hope that he found all the happiness he deserved.

The summer came and with it my new job and my big move back to my mother's house. Sometime during the month of July my mother decided that she wanted her "family" back together. Once again God has moved her to want to be a mother and Scott, my step father, wanted to try being a father again. Not that either of them had really ever succeeded at it. I was given the choose by Fawna, my social worker. I could move home or stay in the system. I made a bad chose. I moved back home.

To be continued . . .

I'm Back

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 19:25:41 GMT

I'd like to apologize for being absent these last couple weeks.

With school getting back in I took a couple weeks to hang out with my girls for the last bit of their summer vacation. Plus get everyone ready to head back to school.

Now that school is back in and I'm all alone during the day I have started to put together my thoughts and started writing my first book. Whether it gets published or not will be another thing but it's worth writing if for no other reason than just writing it. =)

Tomorrow will be my "official" day back with a new entry to the About Me section for those who have been checking back for anything new.

**Hint** For those of you who did keep checking back, if you subscribe by adding your email, anytime something new is added you get an auto email and no one else gets your email, not even me.

Thanks for your patience. =)

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Why Men are Never Depressed . . .

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 15:22:21 GMT

This is from my friend Jaime. I thought this would make a few of you crack a smile, it did me. =)

WHY MEN ARE NEVER DEPRESSED:

Men Are Just Happier People - What do you expect from such simple creatures?

Your last name stays put. The garage is all yours. Wedding plans take care of themselves. Chocolate is just another snack. You can be President. You can never be pregnant. You can wear a white T-shirt to a water park. You can wear NO shirt to a water park. Car mechanics tell you the truth. The world is your urinal. You never have to drive to another gas station restroom because this one is just too icky. You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt. Same work, more pay. Wrinkles add character. Wedding dress $5000. Tux rental $ 100. People never stare at your chest when you're talking to them. The occasional well-rendered belch is practically expected. New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet. One mood all the time!

Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat. You know stuff about tanks. A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase. You can open all your own jars. You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness. If someone forgets to invite you, he or she can still be your friend.

You NEVER see the dust accumulating.
Your underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack. Three pairs of shoes are more than enough. You almost never have strap problems in public. You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes. Everything on your face stays its original color. The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades. You only have to shave your face and neck.

You can play with toys all your life. Your belly usually hides your big hips. One wallet and one pair of shoes -- one color for all seasons. You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look. You can "do" your nails with a pocket knife. You have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache.

You can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives on December 24 in 25 minutes.

No wonder men are happier.

About Me - Part13

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 14:20:44 GMT

Jubian House would be my home for the next year of my life. It would have it's ups and downs. For the most part though it would be another one of those life changing experiences.

The staff that worked at the house tried very hard to make this house a home for many of the girls that made their way through. Some girls would move in and out within a week, month, a couple months but the girls that had been in the house for months or years were tough cookies to crack. As the "new" girl in the house you had to prove you fit in with the rest of them. No one cared what you'd been through to get here, 'cause they'd all been through the same, sometimes worse. The last thing they wanted to hear was your sob story. If nothing else this helped me to toughen up. I realized that no matter how hard I ever thought I had it, no one cared. There was always someone out there that had it worse.

A week after I moved to Jubian House, Patricia, a girl I had met at the other group home, moved in. Her and I bonded quickly.  It was more of an older sister leading the younger relationship with me being the older sister. Although I had only been in this group home for a week I had already, somewhat, forged myself as being one of the girls. It wasn't about who had been through the most in life. It was about surviving life. You had to be tough, emotionally, mentally and physically.  That's how you gained respect, not only in the group home but in the system period and we'd be damned to show our softer side. We were taught by life that to show weakness would only open you up to more pain and hurt.

Living in the group home was structured. There were rules, curfews, punishments and rewards. They gave us opportunities to be kids but treated us like young adults knowing that many in the system are out on their own in the real world by the time they turn 18 with little to no support. My first few months there were the hardest on me. Not because of where I was but not having the ability to let go of the family I so desperately wanted to have. The more they pushed me out of the family the more I wanted in.  The more isolated I felt.

Do you know what it feels like to be so alone in the world? Do you know what it feels like not to fit in anywhere? Do you truly know what it feels like to have no one to tell you that they love you? Do you know what it feels like to hate yourself so much that any bit of sunshine that comes into your life you push out because your so used to being surrounded by darkness and disdain that you don't know any better? Do you?

Within a month of being at Jubian House I attempted suicide. My second attempt. I still have the scars.

I would tell the staff that morning that I was too sick to go to school. My room was in the basement so other than the odd staff member coming to check on me every now and again I was alone. All the other girls were in school. It was the perfect setting for a swirling depression to deepen. As all my thoughts and feelings collided in a mash of self loathing I ran myself a hot bath. I wouldn't try taking the easy way out this time by taking pills and going to sleep, I'd go straight to slitting my wrists.

I don't remember who found me. Things were pretty dazed. I do remember feeling like a complete retard because I hadn't succeeded. Now I'd have to answer a barrage of questions and listen to the advice of people who couldn't possibly understand how broken I was. The worst would be the Psychologist they would send me to.

Dr. Gray was his name. I'd go to the first session on my own. We talked about "my feelings" and what brought me to his office, my past, my family, blah, blah, blah. The second session he included my mother and step father without me knowing.  They were there in the office when I arrived. I got to listen to what a horrible kid I was as my step father went on and on, never even allowing the good Doctor to talk or ask proper questions. When I finally had my chance to speak Scott lost his temper, leaning over my chair, yelling in my face then storming out of the office. I wouldn't go again.

Coming to the conclusion that I'd have to learn to deal with the demons that held onto me slapped me in the face when I almost lost the one person in my life that I loved even more then I loved myself. The only person I thought loved me back. Dwayne. He was the only person that helped me feel anything good. He was my sunshine.

The relationship with my father would begin to grow now that I was out of my mother's house. We begun going out together. He'd take me to baseball games with him, bowling and coffee. My father wasn't a very serious person but he seemed to realize how much I needed someone in my life when he was one of the people the staff called after my suicide attempt. For the first time in my life my father would make a good effort at actually being a dad.

It's sad that it took such a tragic thing to bring my father into my life. I had to admit though I missed my father and it was nice to finally have him in my life. I would someday regret ever wanting my father in my life. I would, so many years later, pay the biggest price for loving my father and fighting for his love.

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That's really all I can write today. I've gotten out a lot of tears and now I need to pull myself back into today and be thankful for the people I love and for the love they have for me. =)

Thank you to all of you who take the time to read. The emails and comments mean so much to me.

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To be continued . . .

Post your comments or email me at amanda@accordingtoamanda.com I look forward to hearing what you have to say. =)

If you like this article or any other article I've written so far why not click the Digg.com button below and let other's know what you think. Thanks!

About Me - Part 12

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 06:48:11 GMT

I'd only be at the Nova Scotia Home for Colored Children for about a month and a half. It would be long enough for me to forge a life long friendship with Phyllis, a girl who lived at the home since both her parents had died in a car crash a few years before. It was enough time to give me a good lesson in race relations as well. For once in my life I was the minority. It made me a little nervous at first and when I was originally told where I would be living, The Nova Scotia Colored Home, I even thought to myself, "I'm not colored". In no way was it a negative experience. A couple of the black guys that lived there enjoyed calling me "white" names but nothing that would scar me for life. And it's not like I was the only white person there. With two buildings, one housing the guys and one the girls, it was a good mix of backgrounds. Plus we all had one thing in common, none of us had a real family.

In the time that I was there I was introduced to the music of hip hop music, rap and dancing I had never seen. It was 1988, before hip hop and rap would hit mainstream radio but here it was alive and thriving. After years of my mother calling top 40 music evil, this music would have sent me straight to hell in her book I'm sure. Once my cast came off I learned quickly to mimic the moves and let go to the music of Run DMC, Kool Moe Dee, Al B. Sure, Keith Sweat and my favorite Tony Toni Tone. I loved to dance! Now that I knew I could.

I would start Grade nine at Graham Creighton. It was my eighth school in 10 years of attending school. I was used to adapting at this point and with Phyllis as my friend I was enjoying life far from my mother and Scott. The only thing I missed was not being able to see Dwayne but he came to see me a couple times and we talked on the phone, which was limited at the home, so it made it easier to adjust. My social worker helped too. She took me out to get my hair done and gave me a voucher for $500 to go clothes shopping. Not all places took the vouchers but the store I went to happily accepted it when I spent the whole thing at their store.

Within two weeks of starting school I would move again. My mother decided she missed me too much and wanted me closer so she could visit me. That turned out to be a lie, I mean honestly, even when I lived in my mother's house she had no interest in me. I had no say in the move, even though I was settled making friends I was off to another group home.

I would miss my new found friends, especially Phyllis. Phyllis and I would remain friends for many years to follow. Even the staff that worked at the home hugged me and told me what a pleasure it was to meet me. It was a teary moment packing my things up into Fawna's car. I hoped this would be my final move but who knew. my mother would probably change her mind again.

*****************************************************

As we approached the white house with gray trim I wasn't sure what to expect. This was nothing like the other group home. This place actually looked more like someone's home than a complex. Fawna helped carry my things into the quiet house. All the girls were in school. A guy named Reigh Allen and his coworker Jennifer were there. They met us at the door and welcomed me to the house. We all sat in the office for about 10 minutes getting through hellos, introductions and mindless chit chat. I was asked to sit in the living room while they went over some "official stuff". Then it was the walk through and showing me where I'd be settling in, or what would become my room.

The house had enough space for 8 girls and an emergency, which was basically a cot set up in a corner of the basement. There were two double rooms and four single rooms plus the office, kitchen, dining room, living room and rec room. Quite a nice size house actually with a back and front yard. Much more "homey" than the first group home. I use the word "homey lightly though, just imagine . . . eight teenage girls all living under one roof and not just your average teenage girls but ones who have lived on the rougher side of life and played by harder rules. The next year would be an interesting one. But when all was said and done I would wish I never left.

To be continued . . . .

Post your comments or email me at amanda@accordingtoamanda.com I look forward to hearing what you have to say. =)

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About Me - Part 11

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Wed, 06 Aug 2008 20:27:24 GMT

Well, I moved back home and things seemed pretty good. Ok, better than it was. My mom made some what of an effort to connect with me. Every time she thought she'd pissed me off she'd wash my clothes and clean my room. It was kinda nice for a change.

As a family, we spent time at my step grandparent's cottage in Brule, Nova Scotia. We did this every summer. I mostly went with Lila and Aerial because my parents didn't go every weekend. It was actually the only time in my childhood that felt like childhood. I felt so carefree when I was there. I wouldn't spend as much time there this summer because I wanted to spend time with Dwayne. I just didn't realize that this would turn out to be the last summer I would go to Brule with my family.

My friend Lisa was in the cottage right next to ours. We almost always hung out together, playing at the beach, running around, building clay models with the red clay from the beach, doing gymnastics. We also hung out at the local farm owned by the Tattries. A family that owned most of the farm land in the area. They had 4 boys and the two younger boys were close to Lisa and my age. Up until meeting Dwayne I was going to marry their son Eldon and Lisa was going to marry Kenneth their youngest son. We were a couple of foolish girls who loved to dream, like most girls our age we drempt of someday falling in love and the fairytale ending. Of course that never happened.

Eldon and I would keep in touch off and on for years to come. I'd last see him in the summer of 1997.

Things would, for the most part, run pretty smooth on the home front. I spent a lot of time out of the house hanging out with Dwayne, my/our friends and of course at the cottage. It was turning out to be one of the best summers of my life. Then I learned I needed surgery on my knee.

My knee cap started dislocating. It had started before school went out that year but progressively got worse as the summer progressed. The doctor I went to see about it said that because the outer muscle of my thigh was more developed than the inner muscle, the inner muscle wasn't strong enough to hold the knee cap in place. I could either live with it or have surgury to correct it. Surgury it was. I'd be in the hospital for about a week afterwards.

My mother and Scott came in a few times to visit. Never staying long. After about three days of laying in bed the doctor's had me up and trying to walk to get used to the cast that went from my ankle to my hip. I hadn't been able to shower due to the cast but the mother of the girl in the bed next to me offered to wash my hair and had the nurses bring me everything I needed to sponge bath. Something my own mother should have been concerned with. I can't remember the girl's name now but her and her family were from Indonesia. We kept in touch for about a year afterward but soon after that lost contact.

It was within this time frame that Dwayne and I become sexually active. I could no longer ride my bike with this cast on so we saw each less and I began writing him letters. In one of these letters, maybe more I referenced our sexual activity. It was when one of these letters went missing that I knew my mother or Scott had been snooping through my room. I was scared to death. OMG. My mother knew. What the hell was I going to do. I called my friend Cheryl and explained to her what was going on. She already knew some about my family history so she was quick to help out. I would pack a bag and go stay with her. Her father was a police office and her my had been really sick. They were great people especially allowing me to stay with them under such short notice. I would only be there a week before my mother would sign papers putting me into partial government custody. Fawna would inform me that I was to be sent to a group home far away from Dwayne so that we would not be able to see eachother. I had talked to my mother once. The day after arriving at Cheryl's. My mother made it clear what she thought of me, that I was just some little whore.

I knew had I stayed the beatings would have started again. It would have been much, much worse for me had I stayed to face the music. I was smartening up to the ways things worked in my house. I had no idea what a group home was but I did know it had to be better than moving back home.

Fawna was really nice when she picked me up. She assured me that I had nothing to worry about and explained to me that I would be going to a place called "The Nova Scotia Home for Colored Children". I was nervous, scared, anxious but most of all I was pissed off at my mother for sending me so far away. There wasn't a force that would stop Dwayne and I from seeing eachother.

To Be Continued . . .

Post your comments or email me at amanda@accordingtoamanda.com I look forward to hearing what you have to say. =)

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My favorite M & M Commercial

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 10:46:05 GMT

Out of all the M & M commercials I have seen and there are a lot, most of them making us giggle, this is my favorite. It's called "Switch" and features Patrick Warburton.

Hope you enjoyed!

If there's something funny you'd like to share with everyone please email it to me at amanda@accordingtoamanda.com and I'll be sure to post it here! =)

ESTROGEN ISSUES

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 10:09:31 GMT

10 WAYS TO KNOW IF YOU HAVE 'ESTROGEN ISSUES'

1. Everyone around you has an attitude problem.

2. You're adding chocolate chips to your cheese omelet.

3. The dryer has shrunk every last pair of your jeans.

4. Your husband is suddenly agreeing to everything you say.

5. You 're using your cellular phone to dial up every bumper sticker that says: 'How's my driving-call 1- 800-'.

6. Everyone's head looks like an invitation to batting practice.

7. Everyone seems to have just landed here from 'outer space.'

8. You're sure that everyone is scheming to drive you crazy.

9. The ibuprofen bottle is empty and you bought it yesterday.

10. Ice Cream and Cookies for dinner suddenly makes sense some how.

Thanks again Shelley! =)

Women, Pregnancy and Kids

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 10:05:45 GMT

My friend Shelley sends me joke emails all the time. Most of what I'll be posting will probably be from her. She's awesome! This is one I thought I had to share. LOL

Women, Pregnancy & Kids

Q : Should I have a baby after 35?

A : No, 35 children is enough.

Q : I'm two months pregnant now. When will my baby move?

A: With any luck, right after he finishes college.

Q : What is the most reliable method to determine a baby's sex?

A: Childbirth.

Q: My wife is five months pregnant and so moody that sometimes she's borderline irrational.

A: So what's your question?

Q : My childbirth instructor says it's not pain I'll feel during labor, but pressure. Is she right?

A: Yes, in the same way that a tornado might be called an air current.

Q: When is the best time to get an epidural?

A: Right after you find out you're pregnant.

Q : Is there any reason I have to be in the delivery room while my wife is in labor?

A: Not unless the word 'alimony' means anything to you.

Q: Is there anything I should avoid while recovering from childbirth?

A: Yes, pregnancy.

Q : Do I have to have a baby shower?

A: Not if you change the baby's diaper very quickly.

Q : Our baby was born last week. When will my wife begin to feel and act normal again?

A: When the kids are in college.

Q : My wife stopped having sex when she was about 6 months pregnant. Will our sex life resume after the baby is born?

A : Of course it will. In about 18-21 years after the child is born.

About Me - Part 10

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 08:32:07 GMT

I was free!

At least for a short time. I had a family.

I was placed with a lady named Diana Ogden and her 4 kids (David, Caileigh and twins Gill and Joanna) who lived just a short distance up the road from Herring Cove Junior High, the school I was attending. Caileigh, in grade 9, and the twins, in grade 7, went to the same school although I had never met them before this we all quickly became friends. David was nice but quiet, he never really said much to me. Being the only male in the house I couldn't really blame him for keeping his distance from all the female hormones surrounding him. They all, amazingly, made me feel like I had been a part of this family forever. I fell in love with all of them quickly.

Caileigh and I became close friends. We always hung out together. She introduced me to all her friends. She took me under her wing. We'd stay up all hours of the night just talking and laughing, sometimes crying. I had never trusted anyone as much as I trusted her, she was the sister I never knew.

It was with Caileigh that I had my first taste of alcohol. I remember one night we snuck out of the house and went drinking, it may have been the first time actually I can't remember. We walked all through Herring Cove just acting a fool and carrying on singing . . what was that song? It kinda became our anthem. Oh yeah, Rockin' Robin! Omg, we sung it all the time after that night.

School improved. My grades started going up. I joined the drama club for the chance to be in the end of year school play. Like most kids I wanted the lead but instead I ended up with a secondary role. I was still thrilled at the chance to be in the play though. Life was finally feeling the way it should have always felt. Normal. I felt like I was finally fitting in where I had always felt like the weed growing amongst a rose garden. My mother never contacted me for as long as I lived with Diana. All contact, not that there was much, was done through Fawna Andrews, the social worker assigned to me.

For about four months my life soared. I had friends, a family I felt I belonged to, lots of laughs, school was going great and I started dating my first "real" boyfriend! Completely by accident though. I was actually trying to set him up with one of Caileigh's friends who liked him. Turned out he liked me. Hmm, who knew!

His name was Dwayne. A ninth grader who was also involved with the school play that year. I hadn't noticed him before that day and had no interest in him myself when I first approached him for someone else. Turns out he liked someone else and showed no interest in the girl I had approached him for. I soon found out the girl he liked was me. ME? I was definitely taken by surprise. A little in disbelief that someone actually liked me. At the same time I was flattered and taken by him. I found myself thinking of him every moment of everyday.

I don't remember when it actually became "official" that we were dating. I do know that once it happened we were almost inseparable. He became very important to me. In fact I couldn't have predicted how large a role he would play in my life, over the next year and for years to come. He would become the first guy I fell in true love with, the first guy that would completely and definitively break my heart and the only guy I would truly love for the next 16 years of my life. Yes, I would move on, I would have other relationships but there wouldn't be another man that would capture my heart the same way as it had been captured that first time.

Maybe it was all in the timing that I met him or the way we connected so strongly that he became so important to me. Or maybe it was just that fact that he was my first love.

A few days after I attended the Junior High Graduation dance as Dwayne's date I was sent back to live with my mother and step-father. According to Fawna this time things would be different, better. It wouldn't last though.

After being so happy living with Diana and her family and actually feeling normal for a little while I was being plunged back into hell head first. Scott apologized to me in front of my mom and my mother talked to me about how Scott only reacted toward me the way he did because he felt I didn't like him. Blah, blah, fucking blah. She was still taking his side by making excuses for him. He had her convinced though that life was going to be different this time, that he had changed as was a different man. He also took advantage of her Faith by saying that prayed to God for guidance and that this was the right thing. I can tell you, there was nothing "right" about me moving back home. This was no guidance of God but of man, of Scott. He was simply manipulating my mother again by showing what a great guy he was to bring our "family" back together.

It would be my mother that would make the next huge move in my life.

To be continued . . .

Post your comments or email me at amanda@accordingtoamanda.com I look forward to hearing what you have to say. =)

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About Me - Part 9

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 09:51:45 GMT

Homeroom class was just starting to settle that Friday morning, almost two weeks after first meeting Fawna Andrews, the social worker from the Department of Children's Services, when I was called back to the office. As I walked down the hall I noticed Fawna standing in the door to the main office, her face looked strained yet she managed a soft almost pitiful smile toward me.

I was lead back in to the office where I first sat down with Fawna. I didn't know what to expect since the last time wasn't so pleasant. I wasn't scared this time though. After all could it possibly get any worse. My heart had already hit rock bottom. This place I'd been living in was already hell, so nothing else could possibly make it any worse.

There was a few moments of silence as Fawna organized her papers and tried to find the words to start our conversation. She seemed nicer this time, more kind, softer.

She apologized to me first. Then went on to explain that she had a follow up meeting with Scott and my mother the day before to explain the outcome of the investigation of abuse of my little brother and told them that there was absolutely no evidence of abuse toward Aaron, my little brother. That in fact after interviewing me and my little brother separately that we both seemed like normal kids except that there was evidence that I had been exposed to an abusive situation.  She explained that after some interrogation Scott spoke up and admitted he made it all up.  He stuck to his story that I'd been drinking and doing drugs though to explain his rough handling of me. What an asshole! I will never forget the horrifying feeling that went over me when I learned what he had actually said that about me. You never forget stuff like that, you just deal with it and file it away. But it's always there. That pain never compared to the feeling left when the realization set in that my mother never stood up for me. She left me to fend for myself. She closed her eyes and her heart to me so she could be happy.

You also never forget the moment someone tells you they believe you and will help you. Fawna couldn't stop apologizing to me, explaining her reaction toward me was wrong but that she hears so many cases a week of troubled kids that she just jumped to the assumption that I was just the same. She'd never make that mistake again. She went on to describe Scott in the light I saw him, as an evil man looking out for his own agenda and that the psychologists warned her to remove me from that situation a.s.a.p. before he did worse or the situation got worse. Especially now that he'd been forced to admit he'd been lying.

"You won't be going home today. Is that ok?", she asked.

I can't possibly explain the feelings running through me at that very moment.  It was all so surreal. All the feelings I had been feeling the stress, terror, pain, depression, helplessness; it all turned to such an incredible feeling of relief, happiness, triumph. Finally, after feeling so alone for so long, someone believed me.

All the arrangements had been made within the few days before our meeting and finalized the evening before.  I wasn't going back home. Fawna was headed back out to my house that morning to tell my mother and step father and to gather the clothes I'd need for however long I'd be away from home. I would have been happy never to go back.

I was free.

To be continued . . . .

About Me - Part 8 continued

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 11:58:51 GMT

That night as I slept I had one of the scariest dreams I have ever had. I still remember it to this day.

In my dream I awoke, darkness surrounded me. Distant sounds of gun fire and people yelling outside my window. Early dawn was breaking as I looked outside, just a glimmer of light illuminated the silhouetted soldiers firing weapons in the distance. My heart began to pace briskly as I lowered myself to the floor as not to be seen. Crawling to my doorway, I listened for any sound within my house but all that echoed close to me was the pounding of my own heart. Slowly making my way up the stairs of our split entry house I peaked around the corner to the dining room to find a low light on. A radio was quietly playing, the rocking chair my mother usually sat in was empty, slowly rocking. I made it through the entire main floor to find I was completely alone. I crept back down the stairs toward my room. As my foot hit the bottom stair my heart stopped beating, I heard movement upstairs. Slowly I turned, making my way back toward the dining room. Before I could make it to the top of the stairs, the movement was behind me. Three shots rang out from a gun as pain pierced my back. Quickly turning to find my step father standing behind me I dropped to my knees. I remember thinking, "just breathe, keep your eyes open". As I looked forward again my mother was standing there with a smile on her face. At that point my body fell to the stairs. "BANG" the finally noise rang through my head as everything went black.

I awoke that morning with a start. My heart racing, I found myself crying into my pillow.

Other than my dream nothing else seemed out of the ordinary that morning. I got ready for school, caught the bus and made it to school as I normally did. During third class I was called to the Councilor's office. As I made my way up to his office a million and one things went through my mind, mainly "What now?" What else could possibly happen? Nothing else could possibly happen to destroy me . . there was nothing left to destroy.

As I walked in I recognized two of the four people, my councilor and Fawna. The other two ladies I had never seen before. They were the two child psychologists assigned to investigate the accusations of my step father. I'm sure this is what the accused felt like during the Spanish Inquisition. For the next hour or so I was questioned and requestioned while the two ladies filled out paperwork. Once it was finished I was told they'd be in touch and was sent back to class.

The rest of the week seemed to blur by me. I went from home to school to home without interacting with anyone. When I was at school I was just waisting time starring into space unable to concentrate on anything. When I was at home I stayed in my room, I didn't even eat with the rest of them. The hatred I held inside grew. Not just for Scott. For everyone. There wasn't one person, not even myself, that I cared about at that point. I was simply existing. For the next accusation, the next kick in the teeth. It would have been nice to have just one hand reach out to me, saying it's ok, I love you, I won't let them hurt you anymore.

Isn't that what family's for? Not mine.

Technically, I was like everyone else, I had a family. I had a Mom and a Dad, three brothers, a sister, many aunts, uncles, cousins, a grandmother (my fathers side), a step father, a step mother and step grandparents. Yet I was alone. I belonged no where. I was my only family.

To be continued . . . .

About Me - Part 8

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 13:01:48 GMT

The following couple of weeks at school would prove to be my most stressful. With everything that happened at home it was proving harder and harder to hide, with the fresh bruises in plain sight for all to see I was soon called to the office to speak with the principal then to the councilor's office to talk about what was happening in my life. Up until this point Scott, my step father, was smart about where and how he hit me. Never leaving bruises where people could actually see them. Now he'd have to explain his abusive ways to someone other than my mother. Who didn't bother to care enough to listen anyways.

For the first time ever I felt like I had someone on my side. Someone that would listen and maybe, just maybe, help me. So talking to the councilor felt nice, like being set free. Finally having someone to hear me, a chance for me to cry and get out all the horrible feelings I had been storing away for so long. I even told him about my feelings of suicide, that I no longer wanted to live. He asked me if I had tried to kill myself, I lied about that of course and told him no, I'm sure he saw right through that though. Of course before that would happen my world would have to be turned upside down and inside out. Up to this point my grades had suffered so badly, I knew I'd be doing grade 8 over again. My English grade alone was sitting around 45% for the year and 29% for the third term. I remember wanting to tell my English teacher but why would he listen to me, no one ever listened to me and anyways, what could he have done? What could anyone do?

It really felt good to finally get everything off my chest. I began opening up to friends, I even went home everyday the rest of the week feeling good about what I had done and suddenly feeling stronger than I had ever before. It was like knowing that he would no longer be able to hurt me without everyone knowing. I wanted him out of my life. For the first time I felt like this was finally going to happen. That I was finally going to be rid of this horrible man. I'd no longer have to fear him or be stressed out wondering when the next time it was that he was going to snap and maybe next time beat me to death. To this day I've never met anyone with so much hatred built up inside them.

The atmosphere changed that weekend. I knew that a social worker and police had been to see my parents while I was in school about what I had told my councilor at school but I still had no idea of the outcome. My step father still wasn't talking to me and giving me nasty looks but there seemed a new smugness he exuded toward me. The kind of smugness someone has when they know something you don't. When they think they have the upper hand. All I could think is that he had lied about everything, somehow thinking he had once again convinced people he was the perfect father and it was his evil step daughter that was in the wrong. I stayed positive. There was no way he could hide the bruises everyone had seen on me. He couldn't win this time!

Ok, maybe he could.

When I arrived back at school Monday morning, I could feel my stress levels beginning to rise. There was tension all around me. I knew something was up, I could feel it.

Just as classes started I was called to office. The principal was there with a woman I had never seen before. My principal introduced her as Fawna Andrews, a social worker with the Department of Social Services. My stress started to go away. Someone "official" was actually here to hear my side and help me out. She was young. Probably 25-28 years old. She cracked a smile as I stretched out my hand to shake hers. Her smile quickly disappeared as she asked me to join her behind closed doors in the principals office.

Fawna wasn't as nice as I thought she was going to be. She seemed very aggressive as she asked me to tell her a bit about myself. What I did after school, who I hung out with, what I did on the weekends, and finally about my home life, my relationship with my mom, Scott, my little brother. Not that there was much to tell her. I didn't do anything. Once in a while I hung out with my friends Lisa or Rhonda listening to music or walking around. I baby sat my little brother on occasion. Most of what I had to say revolved around my step father Scott. As I got to him though, she cut me off abruptly, told me she'd already been told about him and that her and a police officer had already been out to my house to talk to him and how he seemed like a nice man. "OH ok, here we go again", I thought.

All the hope I had felt the week before started draining from my body as Fawna started explaining to me how my step father told her that I was drinking alcohol and doing drugs all the time. That he had caught me on numerous occasions and he just couldn't control me anymore, he was at wits end with me. She explained how he even started tearing up as he told her and the police officer that he even suspected me of sexually abusing my little brother. My mind started echoing her words. Like an out of body experience I started listening to the conversation as if a complete stranger eaves dropping on the words being spoken. My heart started pounding harder and harder, my stomach began to twist, my head filled with fog. I denied it all, I didn't even know what drugs were at that point but from the look on Fawna's face she had heard it all before and wasn't about to be fooled by the lies of some alcoholic, druggie teenager who apparently molested their little brother.

Once again Scott had used his lies and manipulative ways to prevail as the good guy. He'd seemingly convinced complete strangers that I was some uncontrollable troubled teenager that needed severe help. That everything I was saying was some cover up to put the blame on him and make him the bad guy. I was in complete disbelief. I knew he'd lie about abusing me, never in my wildest dreams though did I think he'd try to utterly ruin me by completely reinventing the circumstances.

Fawna went on to explain to me that if I weren't telling the truth that I should start, that right at this very moment there were two child psychologists out at my house testing my little brother and questioning my mother and step father. That there were programs that could help me and if I were to be more truthful with her today that she could get me into these programs a lot faster than if I were to withhold things from her. What did she want me to do, say? Obviously she held my recollection of events pretty low. Whatever. Yet again, I felt defeated. I asked her if we were done, I had nothing else to say to this woman or to anyone for that matter. It was over. There was no one else out there that had more authority than this woman that would actually hear me out and believe me. It seemed no one would believe me now.

In a state of disbelief I headed back to class feeling worse than I ever had. I couldn't concentrate on anything, Fawna's conversation was all I could hear in my head, over and over. The day whizzed by and before I knew I was locked in my room, laying on my bed staring up at the ceiling. Everything was whirling through my head, from the accusations of my step father to everyone I had asked for help from that just slammed the door in my face and turned their backs on me. What was I going to do? This question went through my mind often. There was always silence that followed. It was apparent, there was no one to help me. I would be stuck living this nightmare till I did something about it. But what? I thought about running away but there was no where I could go, no one to take me in, no one who cared enough to help me. I thought about death as I often did but I was too tired to even try at this point.

To be continued . . . . .

Post your comments or email me at amanda@accordingtoamanda.com I look forward to hearing what you have to say. =)

From Bernie Mac to Rev. Jesse Jackson - Are people losing there minds?

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 13:02:56 GMT

From Bernie Mac and his tasteless jokes at Friday nights Democratic fund raiser to Rev. Jesse Jackson Sr.'s comments on removing Barack Obama's nuts, people are losing their minds. The Root magazine would have us believe that the Black people of America aren't ready to see "one of their own" as they called him or Barack Obama as the rest of us call him, make one of the, if not THE most memorable historic event happen ever, or at least in my time. To become the first Black President of the United States. I don't think it's that at all. Why blame a group of people for the comments of one man? I fully believe America, White, Black, whatever your color are completely ready to have a Black man as President.

Rev. Jesse Jackson Sr. being excused for his comments because they were said out of jealousy or they were said out of a moment of stupidity is just that a lame excuse. What the hell would people be saying if some White guy said those same comments? OMG! Seriously. If we think that this is the first time the good Reverend has spoken out of turn about another Black man or any person for that matter that has stolen his lime light then we must be the ones suffering from a moment of stupidity. After all it was Rev. Jackson himself that said he was "sick and tired of hearing about the Holocaust". It's only more humiliating for him now because the whole world got to hear his stunningly crude remarks through a mic he thought was off. I honestly laughed my ass off. I felt it showed Rev. Jesse Jackson Sr. in a light that most people were already looking at him in and have been for many years.

Yes, Rev. Jesse Jackson Sr. has done many great things in his lifetime, I would never take that from him but he's also showed himself in the racist light he has been known to fight against. Calling Jewish people "Hymies" and not condemning such people as Louis Farrakhan for issuing a public warning to Jews, in Jackson's presence: "If you harm this brother [Jackson], it will be the last one you harm."

In my opinion, people like Rev. Jesse Jackson Sr. are caught in an age where segregation is still happening. This is 2008 and so called leaders need to step up to the plate NOW and speak against all wrong doings and not just those that feed their own agendas. Try looking outside the box. I'm not saying that racism doesn't still happen but it's not just against Black people anymore. I am willing to bet that almost every person has had a run in with racism in one form or another. Especially here in the U.S.

I think the U.S., or most of us, are tired of the racial lines however blurred they may be. We see Barack Obama not only as the bridge but also as a sign of the times. A sign to all people to say, just because you can see the differences doesn't mean we're all that different.

Post your comments or email me at amanda@accordingtoamanda.com I look forward to hearing what you have to say. =)

Everything Happens for a Reason

amanda@accordingtoamanda.com (Amanda) — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 18:27:05 GMT

This morning I thought I'd write something a little different. A lot of what I've written so far has been negative. Unfortunately that's life, my life. There is a lot more to come both good and bad. But all of it stands here before you today able to share this story. Many people would think the cards were stacked against me and perhaps they were. Remember though, I believe everything happens for a reason. A hard concept to understand when your young. As I grew older though, each lesson I learned brought me to another place, eventually to where I am today. Had my life played out differently I would have grown to be a different person. I also realize that to me my life was difficult but there are so many other people out there that have had or still have much, much harder lives. All I can say is life can be better. You need to want to make it better and doing that starts with you.

It's funny cause as I'm writing this as I'm watching The Today Show and Pierce Brosnan is being interviewed about his new movie Mamma Mia and he talks about how everything happens for a reason. He says how he was approached about doing the movie and choose to do it because Meryl Streep was doing it also. Then he continues to say that he and his daughter went to see the musical and when his daughter asked him which character he was going to play he said he forgot to ask, he was just going to play one of the dads. When the character Sam Carmichael came out on stage he felt it was divine intervention because his father, Carmichael, had died just the year before. Sam Carmichael just happened to be the character Pierce Brosnan would portray in the movie. Coincidence? I think not. He found his path in life. Everything falls into place as long as you are open to the signs and become more aware of the environment around you.

Life is not an excuse to be a bad person. It is filled with experiences and lessons to show you who you should be, not necessarily who your meant to be. A lot of people look at who they're meant to be as an uncontrollable force spun out of the circumstances that have put them where they are today instead of taking the responsibility of their own actions placing them in the circumstances they now find themselves in. Over and over again in the news we hear how life is used as an excuse for wrong doings and it shouldn't be. We hear it most in criminal cases. Just because evil is all you've ever known doesn't give a person the right to continue that evil through their own negative actions. Each person is responsible for themselves. If you choose to perpetuate evil and negativity then that is your choose and not because of what people have done or said to you. Each person needs to take responsibility and ownership of there own actions and there own feelings. Even if you've done bad things in the past doesn't mean you can't be a better, happier person. It won't happen overnight but it is possible.

Many bad choses are born from the need for revenge. A perfectly normal human response to negative actions. What most people don't realize is what goes around, comes around. People say it like they believe it but if people really believed it they would let the universe work it's magic and not take things into their own hands. I've been there, I know. One very publicly known example of revenge was the LA Riots of 1992. One wrong action ( the beating of Rodney King ) by four police officers who were found not guilty a year later spawned a horrific riot which put fear into the hearts of thousands of people, left 53 people dead, hundreds of people injured, stores looted and parts of Los Angeles burned to the ground. What good came from this? Could this have gone different? Sure it could have. It didn't but thats how we learn and grow.

My example is an extreme one yes, but one to get you thinking about the negative effects of revenge spawned actions. Imagine all that negative energy turning into positive energy. What are the possibilities? You don't need to be famous or a public figure or a part of government to make a difference. Change starts with you.

Now take a good look at yourself. Are you one of those people who blame your past or others because your own life isn't going the way you think it should? Or are you one of those people that don't care what the world thinks and live life to it's fullest everyday? Only you have the power to get you where your supposed to be.

Over the next week, while your out and about, make a conscience effort to smile more. No matter whats going on in your life, leave it at the door as you leave your home. Say hello, good morning, or how are you to complete strangers. Hold the door for people, apologize and say thank you at every moment you should. Observe these people that you interact with. I am willing to bet not only will you feel better about you, you are going to help someone else feel better also.

I'd love to hear how this goes for people. Please email me at amanda@accordingtoamanda.com or comment. Even if you don't try the previous, feel free to tell me what you think about all the comments and ideas I brought up in this article today. I love hearing different points of view as well as knowing people are finding my ideas and opinions interesting or for that matter completely boring and uninspiring. You be the judge! =)