I haven’t written in a while and that has been intentional and unintentional! As you might have noticed, I have an incredible new blog design and layout that I am ABSOLUTELY in love with. It was created completely by the awe-inspiring Becca over at jumpingjaxdesigns.com. She is a dream to work with, and if you have ideas for your own blog or website, I think you should speak with her.
The intentional part of this break was knowing that I was going to have a beautiful new face on my blog to show off, and I could hardly wait to share it.
The unintentional part has something to do with not really knowing what to say. I fluctuate back and forth between desiring to write even when I don’t have anything pressing, and waiting until there is something I just HAVE to say.
So, with nothing pressing to write, and a multitude of new followers since Rory died, I’m going to start a new series: The History of Me. It will be nice to have this all written out in one place, rather than spread out all over the internet.
My name is Mandy. I was born Amanda, but I have never been called Amanda – unless I was in some really serious trouble. I have two older brothers (Ryan and Adam) and an incredible set of parents (Nancy and Jerry). I am Canadian, and I was raised all over Western Canada. We, my family, moved often as I was growing up, always seeking the next right thing. Sometimes we moved for dad’s job. Sometimes for mom’s. Occasionally we moved because someone needed us somewhere. I went to 13 different schools before I graduated high school. It was challenging but also hugely growing. I remember wishing that I had the types of friends that my classmates had; friends that had been together since kindergarten. But I also knew how to meet people, make friends, and adapt wherever I was.
From as young as I could remember, I have always dreamed of being a mother. I remember that I used to sit and look out my window and wish that the moon would make my baby dolls come to life so I could be their mama. From the moment I found out that the nipples on my chest were made to feed babies, I dreamt of breastfeeding. I was a voracious reader when I was young, and read everything I could get my hands on. Somewhere around the age of 12, I read the Belgariad by David Eddings. I recall one of the characters in the books being described as “barren” – unable to have children. I don’t know why reading that marked me so heavily, but I immediately became convinced that I was barren. I used to imagine that the inside of my uterus looked like a desert, cacti and all. This becomes relevant in the future.
When I was in 7th grade, we moved to Vancouver Island. It was at this point that I reconnected with my childhood best friend, Crystal. It was also near this time that I met my ex (let’s call him Steve) online. I was 13 when I met Steve. We played Diablo together, and cultivated an online relationship that lasted until he moved to Seattle for college, where we began dating in person. I was in high school and driving down to see Steve and his roommates, Brock and Aaron, every weekend.
This was our arrangement for nearly two years. I graduated high school and moved with my family to Hinton, Alberta – a far drive from Seattle. When given the choice to either break up or get married, we decided to wed. I was 19, and Steve was 21. Since Steve’s family was from South Dakota and everyone in my family lived in Canada, we agreed it would be best to be mutually exclusive and flew to Hawaii to be married.
Wait, you didn’t know I had been married before? Well. Now you do!
I think that’s a good place to end the first chapter. More later. Thanks for reading!