I think this is a unique story that can tell other people out there that when life gets rough, it can always get better.
By the time I was five, I consistently alternated between living with my mom and my dad. When I was eight, my dad made a deal with my mom: if he could have me all weekdays during the school year to ensure I would get to school on time, my mom could have the summers with me. So I spent my summer before third grade with my mom. When I went back to my dad’s, we had moved to a home in Stevensville and I was starting third grade at Lone Rock School. Life was going well. I was growing accustomed to my new school and life with my dad and stepmom. I was, dare I say it, probably the most content and stable I had ever been in my life. But of course my mom couldn’t let that last.