my story

I’ve always been rather indecisive. I can’t ever make up my mind. Ever. It’s like I don’t know what I want for my life. Like one time I cried because I didn’t know if I should be on the academic team or not. I’m not a wimp. I just can’t make up my dang mind about anything. But I know what I want for myself. And I know what god wants for me. But I just don’t know why we have to make small decisions to get us there. See, that’s the problem. I know what I want I just don’t know how to get there. I don’t know what paths to take to lead me in the way I should go. Decisions are just not my thing. And I’ve learned to accept that.

I’ve never gone to one single school. Hence the indecisiveness. I’m not a drop out. But I am. I mean, I have. Many times. I’m graduating a year early. Not dropping out. I have all my high school credits. Which is pretty impressive for a girl who quit school more than once. Not even school in general, just a form of it. Because, there are lots of forms of school. Whether you know it or not. And I’ve done them all.

            “What’s it like being homeschooled?” Geez. That question comes up as a topic of conversation more than Donald trump does. Or football. Or ANYTHING. I’m not kidding, anything. But honestly, I’m much more than homeschooled. I’ve done a lot more before. I’ve done other things. I don’t want my education to define me. That’s not me. I have a lot more going on instead of just homeschool. Don’t get me wrong, I love being homeschooled, just not the stereotypes that come with it. If I didn’t love it, you’d see me at school in those hall ways with you every day. But hopefully I can answer all your questions.

And no, before you even ask, because I know you’re thinking it… I don’t do school in my pajamas.

I’m not like most homeschoolers. I don’t wear the skirts, I’m not antisocial. Just quiet around people I don’t know. I’m not awkward. Prom? Yes. And no, it’s NOT in my living room contrary to popular belief. And I do graduate cap, gown ‘n’ all. I’m a normal teenager. Just like you. Just different circumstances. My story’s just different. And here’s how it goes.

Preschool. Oh, those were the days. Those were the days filled with glue sticks, glitter, (who am I kidding my days are still filled with glitter), and safety scissors. The days when I had my Toullie pants. Pants that a “seemed-to-be-20-but-probably-was-16” year old friend gave me. They were embroidered with roses and stitched with glitter. They had it going on. At least Ethan thought so. Oh Ethan, on the first day of school he went home and told his mom that he had seen, and I quote “the most beautiful girl in the entire world. And her pants had glitter on them mom!” In preschool I wasn’t homeschooled. I went to Lancaster elementary school. Taught by the legend, Mrs. Tungate. I don’t remember much about preschool, except that insane castle in her room. And of course, the weird coat rack thingy. I’m not sure why I remember that. I mean, Preschool was cool. But I wouldn’t really consider show and tell....well… learning. But, in the end. I left. Get used to that ending. It happened a lot. And it’s not a bad thing… public school just wasn’t a good fit. My mom felt called to teach me on her own. And I think that’s incredible.

Kindergarten. Back home. Home-sweet-home. Since public school didn’t work out, I still had to learn. So, my amazing mom took on the task of teaching me. I have to say, she did a pretty darn good job. She’s one of those cool moms. My kindergarten days were abounding with learning. Not the kind the kids at LES were doing. The hands-on kind. You see, in public school you can’t just go outside whenever you want to, much less go to the bathroom when you NEED to. But homeschool is different. You’re not confined to one space. You’re free to roam and learn anywhere! Learning doesn’t just happen with your nose in a book and a teacher at the end of your desk. Learning happens wherever you let it. So, I wouldn’t say my year of kindergarten was typical…in fact it was rather extraordinary. I bet Ethan missed me that year.

1^st grade. I don’t know what happened the summer between my kindergarten and first grade year, but something must have. Because on the first day of school, I found myself in a desk next to, Ethan and being taught by Mrs. Hatmaker. Not my sweet momma. Not my free learning mama. Not my home. After three days… I’m NOT exaggerating, I left. Again. I told you to get used to it.

But through all the change and moving, I finally found where I should be. Home. Under the teaching of the smartest woman I know. My mom. For the next 5 or so years I was taught by the best of the best. Taught by the one I love the most.

Then 6^th grade came. Can’t we all agree that 6^th grade sucked? Here we are back again at square one. In public school at Garrard county middle school. It was awful. I’m literally not kidding. I’m sure I wasn’t the only miserable 12-year-old in that school, but I was one of them. Anxiety controlled me the entire year. I was worried about people not liking me, people not accepting me. They did like me. I was just worried they’d stop. I worried myself sick. Literally sick. Doctor’s visits consumed my extra-curricular activities and tears flooded my homework pages. Anxiety is from satan himself and I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy. Every day of class was filled with the same form of pain. Whether it be physical pain, or mental pain where I just needed a break. One day in algebra my teacher told me that I left the class to go to the restroom, I would fail the class. I was clearly miserable. I wasn’t bullied, just the fact that other people were, is what made me sick. I wanted to help people, not just walk by when they’re being humiliated. I just couldn’t. I don’t know why. I just lost my identity I guess. Forgetting that people’s opinions don’t even matter in the long run. But it got worse. Exponents. I mean it’s like the devil said, “BAM, anxiety; and just to top it off  I’ll throw in a bag of exponents, fractions, and decimals just to set them over the edge“ it felt like it went on for a lifetime. But in reality, I left during Christmas break. Best Christmas present ever. Who knows what Ethan thought.

Seventh grade was filled with online school. Pain and misery increased during that time. School work was pilled on. Not cause of my momma, just because my curriculum was crazy hard. It was just like good ole’ Rhianna said, it was “work, work, work, work, work, work”. I learned a lot during that year. I learned how to manage time and learned how to stay on task.

Eighth grade apparently wasn’t very eventful. Because if I’m being completely honest with you I remember more about preschool than I do eighth grade. Really all I remember is that I went to a classical school where Latin was taught, and people were snobby. If your dad wasn’t a doctor, and if you didn’t wear name brand clothes, you were the odd one out. It was bad. I’ve concluded that I was consumed. Again, by people pleasing and making sure I was the favorite. Making sure that people loved me. And I’ll be the first to tell you that was a poor way to live, living as though every-one’s opinions mattered so much that I don’t even remember what I learned during that year. You see, when you live that way for anytime at all, regret will fill up your future. Regretting the way, you hoped people would love you, regretting the way you treated people when they didn’t. You can regret many things, but the way you chose to deal with that, is the thing that defines you. People will fail you, but in the end it will all be okay.

Freshman year was tough. I went back to public school thinking that this year, well, would be different. See a pattern here? I told you I’m indecisive. I went into it thinking it would be good because I wanted to be different than most other people. I wanted to be kind, I wanted to stand up for those who were being bullied or being hurt by other people. I wanted to make up time I’d lost in 6^th grade. Time I’d spent worrying or thinking about only me. But I quickly learned that high school is tough. People are mean. And boys may be cute, but they don’t want you for your personality. That’s the world. And it’s tough. But I quickly learned that you can’t change all people. You just can’t. but you can show them kindness. And that’s what I tried to do. But I quickly found myself in a predicament. I wanted to have a witty comeback to anything people said. I wanted to be the “funny” one. I wanted to be “popular”. The more I hung out with the kids I thought were so “popular” the more I wanted to escape the lifestyle I had created myself. The more I was around people who had a mean comeback to something mean someone said to them, the farther I got from fulfilling what I’d told myself I was going to do. I would come home and be sarcastic to my parents because that’s what my day at school was filled with. It was like drinking poison thinking it isn’t going to affect anything.

Now I’m not saying public school is poison. By no means. I’m just saying it’s like a recipe. You can either make it into a poison that affects everything around you or you can make it into something amazing that brightens your whole day. Life is not what it does to you, but what you do with it. So, do something good with the rest of your day. Compliment someone. Tell them they’re amazing, because people need that. You need that. They need a pick-me-up. You do. Set an example because whether you see it or not people are watching how you treat those around you. You wouldn’t want to be the reason why someone is mean to others.

Now, I’m a junior. I don’t have it all figure out. Trust me. I’m a mess. But, it’s the way I chose for this year to be is what determines how it will go. This year I’m taking college classes from two different universities and graduating a year early all while going into college as a sophomore. Next summer I’m moving to EL Salvador to be a missionary for a few months. And I see that as being my future job. People probably think I’m that one girl who cant make up her mind about what she wants. at football games they probably look at me like I'm crazy. but its okay. I don't mind. at least now I know what I want. 

I hope I answered your questions about what homeschool is really like. I’m not Amish. I’m actually very normal. I just have had different experiences. And like I’ve mentioned before, people are mean, school is hard, and life feels long. But remember, be kind, and school is easy, just don’t let it define you.