Chronicles of a Sh***ty Adulter Part 1: You're Having a What?!!

chronicles of a shitty adulter

Welcome to Chronicles of a Shitty Adulter!!!

This new segment is literally a look into my life.  I always joke about how bad I am at adulting, and I believe that goes for any millennial in our society, we kind of got the shit end of the deal.  And as I look back on my life, especially for the fact that I have a kid who recently just turned 5 a couple of weeks ago, it brings me to the first time I realized I was a shitty adulter, when i found out I was pregnant.

The first year of college for me was....fuckery.  Granted I had the time of my life, but you cannot send an 18 year old who is use to lying to her mom and dad about shit on her own to figure out how to be somewhat of a functional adult...it's a disaster waiting to happen.  I love my parents, I truly do, but I'm such a fuck up when it comes to adulthood partly because of them.  My mom was so scared about what could and would happen to me that she shielded me from shit that she should've just sat down and talked to me about.  Come to find out, things concerning my grandpa, my own dad, and other relatives caused her to be the parent that she was to me.  My dad on the other hand, being the divorced parent, and the father of a girl, was too lenient on me.  He kept it real, still does, but in those years where I needed my father to be strict, he didn't come up to the plate and play his part.  So freshman year of college for me was like a breeding ground.  I could do whatever I wanted.  My mom and dad were miles away, I could go out, stay out, drink, smoke, and have sex without answering to any parentals...this, was a bad idea.

The fact is, I was dying to have that college relationship that you know, would last until graduation, and turn into a wedding and just complete naive bullshit?  Right, I wanted that, and sought it from someone who at the time wasn't willing to give it to me.  So in turn, investing my feelings into someone who I thought I was done with for the umpteenth fucking time turned into...a baby.  Oh I remember the argument that sparked it all.  Fighting at 2AM, and one of my bestfriends, our lovely Diamond, so happened to be there.  I told her my period hadn't come and I was pregnant.  Her being as optimistic as she is, and maybe just as naive, she kept telling me that it would come and that everything would be ok...Diamond we should have bet money on this!

19, pregnant, and pregnant by someone who had not only cheated on me, but denied any part of the conception.

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I kept asking myself "is this shit really happening" or kept telling myself that my period would come and all of this would be something to laugh about.  But no, as the summer weeks went by, my belly started to become harder, more defined, and evident that an effing human being was growing inside of me, so what did I do?  I did what I knew best, I lied.  I lied to my friends, but most of all I kept a secret that literally haunted me for 8 months.

If I never got the impression from my mother that having a baby would just ruin my life, I would have never hid my pregnancy.  Point blank, because looking on my life now, my child is the best thing that has happened to me, and my life is pretty good.  But when shit happens to me, my mom makes it seem like it's the end of the world and then turns it into how my decision is going to affect her, my brother, and everyone else, and that's not what the fuck I needed at that time.  I needed comfort, I needed reassurance, and honestly I needed someone to talk to me about sex before hand instead of just sticking me on the pill, and maybe all of this would have been avoided.

And on top of dealing with a mother who would have, and could have kicked my ass for this, I was also dealing with the fact that I was experiencing this pregnancy on my own.  I frankly didn't care that me and my daughter's father weren't together, but the fact that he refused to acknowledge his part because he chose to live this life with the bitch who he cheated on me for was the part that killed me.  I was depressed for the better part of a year.  I even remember going to Mizzou's homecoming and seeing him, he looked me dead in the eye, looked at my belly, and walked away.  So just imagine how this can affect a 19 yr old......yea, not good.

Fast forward to August, I'm 5 months pregnant, moving into my first apartment in Springfield, and no one has yet to say anything to me about being pregnant, including my own mother.  Granted, I may have been hiding my pregnancy, but it wasn't in regards to wearing over sized clothes and staying out of people's contact.  I was visible, around campus, at parties, and still hanging out with my friends for the most part.  The only thing I didn't do was take pictures of me being pregnant.  In fact I only have 1 picture of me from my pregnancy. I don't know if people were just that oblivious or they didn't want to ask and hurt my feelings, but no one ever asked if I was pregnant which made me "hiding it" that more easy.

Until....Thanksgiving break.  It was time to go on back home to Saint Louis and see my mom.  Fuck.  What was I going to do?  How in the entire fuck was I going to hide my, by this time, round belly from her?  I honestly just dreaded the ride back home with my room mate and prepared for the worst.  In my mind, it was a little sigh of relief because I knew my secret would be out, I knew I wouldn't have to hide something I was ashamed of anymore.

Walking in the door, my mom was in the opening of the dining room and greeted me with a hug.  I gave her a side hug and ran upstairs telling her I really needed to take a shower.  After what was the loooooooongest shower I have ever taken in the history of me taking showers, I ran to my room, put my pajamas on, and headed downstairs to watch some TV.

My mom, being the judgmental person that she is (I love her, but I get my pettiness from her, so just imagine what the hell comes out of her mouth) she asks me why haven't I used the treadmills in my dorm because my stomach was getting too big...and then...she lifts up my shirt to discover the pregnant belly of her 19 year old daughter.  She kept asking me why is there a line down my stomach hoping I would give her some mediocre answer, but I was just silent.

She proceeds to run to the bathroom, call my dad, and do what I knew she was going to do...turn this into her, how could I do this to her, to everyone? Now can you see why I remotely hid my pregnancy?  The next morning I was awaken by an attitude ridden middle aged woman saying we were going to the emergency room.  From there I spent hours getting tests done, getting the sex of my baby who turned out to be the most precious and chunky baby girl who is now a 5 year old, the due date of when my baby would come, ironically on Christmas (both me and my brother were due on Christmas as well), and all of that technical stuff you do when you have a baby.  In addition, I was asked numerous times about why I kept my pregnancy a secret.  I was stereotyped, as either being a drug user, or someone who was being beaten by her babydaddy, none of which was true.  I was simply a 19 year old college student who did not want to get pregnant, on top of the father not talking to me during my entire pregnancy.  I didn't do drugs, and at that time only drank socially.  I did fairly good in school up until my pregnancy, and was a good person.  I didn't appreciate being stereotyped like that.  It felt absolutely horrible.  On top of all of that, my mom, in my face, is on the phone with my grandma crying, sobbing, making it seem like I stabbed her in the back.  She even made the remark that I better had hoped my child didn't come out retarded because I hadn't taken prenatals or visited the doctor. By the end of the day I was tired, annoyed, and lowkey felt sorry for myself.  I didn't have anyone to make me feel better about the situation.

For the next month my mom and dad kept pushing the idea of adoption.  My dad even suggested that him and my stepmom take my child and we pretend it was my sister (his drunk ass saw a movie where they did that, jesus christ).  This definitely plays into my shitty adulting, because of how my parents treated me, I am never sure about my decisions, never concrete, never solid on whatever I do.  I am always second guessing myself because I have 2 people who were never confident in what the fuck I did in life.  And in actuality, my shitty adulting started when my daughter was born.  My way of parenting can be unconventional, because I'm an unconventional mother, I can't change that.

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To sum it up, I ended up having a very healthy baby girl by the name of Aubrey Michelle Brown.  I pushed through school, graduated the top of my class for both my associates and bachelors while my baby excelled at school in her own ways, saved up to move out of my parents house, and now I'm living on my own, two cars, finishing grad school with my child starting kindergarten in August, saving for my own house, this business, and future endeavors, and I can honestly say, life is great.  In that same instance, I love to drink, cuss, and be the blunt, petty person that I am. I suck at doing most adulting tasks, including parenting, but we're not dead so....everything is ok! I've beat any stereotypes that there was put over my head, and I continue to show people that as fucked up as I am, I'm still a success.  In retrospect, I'm a #unicornmom.

Chronicles of a Shitty Adulter is the embracement of the fuck up I am.  I've learned 5 years ago that I can't make everyone happy, and can only live my life for myself and my child.  She's who is looking up to me, who I have to provide for and care for, everyone else can suck a dick, simple as that.  My way of adulting may piss off those members of Generation X, the babyboomers, the old timers, you name it, but so what! As long as it gets the job done why are you complaining?

So to all the shitty adulters out there, this series is exactly for you, let's toast to our shittiness and cheers to our fuck ups!

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