What would you do if a singular moment changed your life forever? This Is Actually Happening is a weekly podcast from Wondery that features extraordinary, true stories of moments that changed absolutely everything for ordinary people. These riveting stories are told in first person, so you can experience it through their eyes. In an all new episode, you'll hear from a woman who grew up in a tumultuous and toxic household. To cope, she acted out excessively, drinking and partying into
her early twenties. She even fell for a questionable guy and got pregnant, But that relationship was a wake up call, and soon enough she pulled her life together, found a better man, settled down, and had another child. But just as everything seemed to be coming together, she experienced a moment that is every mother's ultimate horror. We've all had powerful moments in our lives that have given us the feeling of nothing is ever going to be the same.
This is Actually Happening explores these moments head on. These immersive, gripping stories will have you on the edge of your seat waiting to hear what will happen next. You're about to hear a preview of this is Actually Happening while you're listening. Follow This Is Actually Happening on Amazon Music, Apple Podcasts, or you can listen ad free by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app Wondery feel the story.
There's really no way to explain how it feels when you realize one decision you made in an instant altered the life of everyone around you.
From Wondering, I'm wit Missildyne. You're listening to This Is Actually Happening Episode two oh one. What if you believed it was all your fault?
I grew up in a small town. I've lived here pretty much my whole life. My parents have been together since they were fourteen years old. Very salt of the earth people, the hardest workers I've ever met. My mom was an ear nurse. My dad was a railroad conductor. I had lots of stability when it comes to housing and things and material possessions, but my dad had some unresolved childhood trauma that created a lot of chaos when I was growing up. In regards to drinking, he drank
a lot. And my mom, who was very meek and mild and docile, her main goal on earth was basically to placate him. There was a lot of tiptoeing, walking on eggshells, and I just thought that's how every dad was. My childhood was great in a lot of ways. We went on vacations, we played in the creek, we played sports, But there was always that dark part, Like when we saw my dad's headlights pull in the driveway at night.
We had run and hide in our rooms because we didn't know what kind of mood he was going to be in, what would trigger him, and how ugly it could potentially get. You know, the smallest thing my mom didn't make his corn the way he liked. If my mom picked up a new bottle of shampoo and he would start accusing her, why are you buying new shampoo? Who are you trying to impress? My dad? When I was sixteen, he punched me in the mouth and knocked my front tooth out because I was defending my mom.
There was a lot of hostility there for a long time. I forgive him now, but it was just very unpredictable. My mom had a full time job trying to keep the peace and just keep him calm, and me and my brother felt emotionally neglected because she was so invested in keeping him calm, we kinda sat on the sidelines and didn't get the attention she showed us. She loved us in a million different ways, but to verbalize it or physically show affection, she just didn't have an enter
because I think my dad just sucked her dry. As ironic as it sounds, even though my dad was the volatile one with the serious drinking problem, he's the one I never doubted his love. I was always very secure in his love for me, no matter how bad things got between us, I knew his love for me was unwavering. Where is my mom? For a long time, I doubted that that love even existed. So as angry as I would be at my dad a lot, the end of the day, no matter how bad it got, my dad
would tell me he loved me. Growing up, I've always been a larger girl. My brother and I were both overweight growing up, and we are as adults. My mom, since she couldn't verbalize her love or show physical affection, she showed us through food through feeding us down home southern mama cooking. Because the guilt she had of not being able to be readily available, she wanted us to
eat our feelings. She dealt with a lot of food insecurity, and I think that's one thing she had with her mom growing up, is that feeling of uncertainty because the food security, not knowing if she was going to be able to eat. So I think it just exacerbated her need to feed me and my brother. Even more so the consequences it caused for my self esteem growing up and in my early adulthood. You know, I was always the fat friend. You know, I was smart, I was pretty,
I was funny, but I was the fat one. Growing up like that and being overweight really did give me a self image that I wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough to be my mom's daughter because I wasn't a cheerleader in a home coming queen and small and petite. I wasn't good enough to be a girlfriend. It was hard to be at that critical point in your life and just feel like you have nothing to offer anyone. I was an extrovert. I had a lot of friends.
I was kind of the loud and boisterous one. I liked to have the attention, and I just really tried to make my mom's life easy because her hands were so full that I just I tried to be a good kid. So that's the type of child I was. And then all hell sort of broke loose. I went buck wild. I was tired of the toxicity of my home life. I was tired of not receiving the attention and love that I felt that I needed. I would not come home at night, I would be out drinking.
I was having a lot of fights with my mom and my dad, just letting them know how angry I was and how I felt cheated out of love. Somehow I managed to be rebellious and keep a really good cover on it for a long time. I maintained fantastic grades in school. I really lived in a lot of capacities, kind of a double life. My friends in high school did not know about the extent of the promiscuity, the drinking, the occasional drug use. I mean, I was even telling
stories that weren't true. I was making up stories just to get attention, just to get some kind of recognition, because I felt empty.
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