Twelve years ago (almost 13), I was a young and foolish 19 year old. I thought I knew everything and tried to do everything just to piss my mother off.
I stayed out late and when my mom told me I had to quit and come home on time - I moved out. I moved in with my grandmother who let me go and come as I pleased. She thought I could do no wrong, so she believed me when I said I was doing nothing wrong.
I ran with the wrong crowd and made sure I did everything that I wasn't suppose to do. I dated the wrong guys because it was "cool". Soon I found myself pregnant by a guy that I was scared of. He made threats to me and wouldn't let me leave the house sometimes. I felt like a prisoner. One day I had enough and left him.
I ran back home to my mom and she accepted me with open arms. It didn't matter that I had been a pain for the last 6 months or that I had went and got pregnant. She accepted me for who I was and forgave me.
Eight months after moving back to my moms - I brought home the most adorable baby boy. I was scared and nervous and had no clue what I was doing. My mom helped me and showed me what to do.
My life was never the same from that point forward. My life was no longer about me. It was about him. If I could go back and change things - I wouldn't. I have no regrets. That little baby changed my life and I wouldn't change a thing.
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