It was the fall of 2001. We had graduated, gone on our senior trips and were both now living in Logan, Utah. A small town an hour and a half north of our hometowns. We both decided to live in the dorms. Steve was living with two of his buddies from high school and I was living with 5 random girls that I had never met before. We lived a short walk away from each other and needless to say, we were making that short walk multiple times a day! Read More
I remember as a child sitting next to my dad on the couch and watching the Miss America pageant. I was fascinated. The women were beautiful, dressed in sparkly gowns, they were incredibly talented and on top of all of that, they were smart. I am sure he could see the amazement in my eyes and my dad asked me if I wanted to be Miss America. I responded with a shrug and my dad answered the shrug by looking me in the eyes and telling me I could be Miss America if I wanted. He followed it up with, “You can be the president if the United States if you want. There is nothing you can’t do.” He believed it…I had no doubt he believed it, but what I didn’t say out loud was that I doubted both…I wasn’t smart enough, I wasn’t pretty enough and I definitely wasn’t talented enough. I was probably 6 years old and I didn’t feel enough.
It was the fall of my 5th grade year. I went to a private school in an old red brick building surrounded by large leafy oak trees. It was old and beautiful. Every day I had to wear the same typical uniform, red and navy plaid skirt, white button up shirt, blue cardigan, a little blue neck tie and knee high socks. It was classic.
My class was divided into groups of learning abilities. They didn’t tell us this, but it was very clear to me that I was in the upper learning group. I was very awkwardly smart. My strength was math and numbers. I can say that now because my mom brain has completely wiped out every ability my mind once had. In fact, I can’t believe that was me. If you were to ask me a basic math question now, my brain would hurt…but, I digress.