When I was little I had always wanted to be a princess. I dreamed of dancing with the prince at a huge ball, twirling around in my sparkling pink dress. I knew that my life was better than others when I was growing up. I lived with both my mom and my dad. My dad had an amazing job and made a lot of money, so we always lived ‘ in style’ as I often heard my mom telling her friends over the phone. My five year old brain didn’t know what that meant then. I understood, as much as a five year old could then, that my life was pretty darn close to my fairy tale dream.

And then it all changed. When I was little, and the money was still coming, and my mom was still there, I didn’t know what had happened. All I knew was that the money had stopped, and my mommy was suddenly gone.

Turns out, my dad quit in his anger, when he found out that my mom was secretly having an affair with his boss. It never did make any sense to me, why she did that when we were living so nicely. And I still don’t know, because the icing on the cake happened about two years after they split up. She died. Funny how life works. Dad had constantly stormed through the house, drunk, screaming about how much he hated her. Now he stumbled through the house, sobbing because he missed her. I learned later that she had cancer, and had an affair with dad’s boss so she could get it out of the way on lists of things to do before she died. It still hurts knowing that she was planning on doing it even if she didn’t have cancer.

Things were pretty much at rock bottom now. Dad was drinking pretty much every night now, and I had lost myself, among other things. No longer did I dream of being a princess and dancing with the prince at the ball. Now I dreamed of surviving, of finally finding myself, of being able to feel again.