Authors: Maci Bookout
I had to admit, it was cute.
Ryan was a nice guy with a charming attitude and a little bit of an edge. He came from a good family and he knew how to treat people well. And he was older, so he had an atmosphere of knowing who he was and what he wanted that I found appealing. There was no question I was attracted to him, and his effort was hard to ignore. Little by little, my reservations about high school romance started to thaw. A few months in, I realized it was time to admit that I had feelings for him, too. By the time October rolled around, we were officially a couple.
Having a boyfriend was nothing like what I’d feared. We had the most easygoing relationship in the world, although we did spend much less time together than a lot of couples our age. Ryan was already out of school and had a job as a diesel mechanic. He worked the night shift during the week, so our only time to meet was in the afternoon when I was out of school. We’d meet somewhere nearby and grab a bite to eat at Sonic before he started his shift. And on the weekends we’d go ride four-wheelers, get dinner, go to the movies, or hang out with friends.
We were in the honeymoon phase, and it was good. We were that annoying, over-infatuated couple our friends rolled their eyes at. It was a total rush. We had no conflicts, no trust issues, no mind games, no arguments. We also weren’t talking about the future. But I didn’t see anything wrong with living in the moment. We were in love. We were happy. And our chemistry was off the charts.
I have never been a promiscuous type, but I wasn’t a prude, either. I didn’t fool around with anyone, but I talked about sex with my girlfriends like any normal teenager. I didn’t plan to wait for marriage, but I had my own standards in mind. I just wanted sex to be on my terms. I didn’t want to do it until I wanted it so bad I couldn’t stand to say no. I didn’t want to wake up the next day and regret having sex. I wanted a situation where the idea was so attractive to me that I’d be afraid to wake up and regret not having had sex. That was my standard. I wanted it when I wanted it, and not a second sooner.
I was into Ryan. Plain and simple. It was the first time I’d ever felt such an immediate, undeniable attraction to someone. It’s funny how that happens. There are so many nice, attractive people you meet in your life and never feel particularly drawn to. But then once in awhile, someone comes along and it’s almost like a shot of love potion. There’s no rhyme or reason to having such a strong feeling about someone you don’t even know yet. I was too young to figure out how much was love and how much was lust. Then again, I don’t know if anyone can really tell the difference right off the bat. Whatever the science behind it may be, sparks flew between Ryan and me and I loved it.
I never felt pressured into sex. If anything, it was the other way around. Things were passionate between us, but when we started to get ourselves into hotter and heavier situations, we’d ease up by shifting into conversation. “I’m okay with it, you know,” I’d say. “If it happens, it happens.” But he didn’t want me to do anything that I’d regret. I’m sure there was an element of chivalry involved. At the same time, I wondered if he was a little afraid I’d lose some of my good girl appeal if I slept with him. Purity can be a turn-on, you know, just like modesty.
But after three or four months of dating, I didn’t give a damn about either one of those. My hormones were racing and I couldn’t take it anymore. My only condition for losing my virginity was that I wanted to be sure about it. Well, now I was sure. Completely sure. And once it was done, I had exactly zero regrets. We were young and in love, and we had a lot of fun.
I never drank a sip of alcohol in high school. I never smoked cigarettes. I never did drugs. But I might have gotten a little high on life when I was with my boyfriend. We took full advantage of our time together at every chance we got. And we felt more attracted to each other than ever. We couldn’t get enough of each other. The time we spent together seemed more intense. Since we couldn’t enjoy ourselves fully with our friends around, I started seeing him more alone, which always feels more meaningful, in a way. Our relationship felt deeper because of it, or at least I thought so. At any rate, I had no complaints. I felt like I had it all.
CHAPTER 2:
10 LESSONS I LEARNED FROM MY MOM
1. Live up to your own standards, even when people underestimate you.
Since my dad was usually with my brother at motocross or wrestling events, my mom took care of me and softball. This was one of many lessons she taught me during those drives to and from tryouts, practice, games. My biggest challenge in softball was that I was very petite and always playing with bigger, stronger girls. There were times when even though I was the more skilled player, coaches would pass me up for someone with an intimidation factor. On one hand I was always being told that I was really good, and on the other hand that I was too small to play the game. It was a constant struggle to maintain my confidence, but my mom would hammer it in: “Don’t listen to them. You know how good you are, you just have to stay focused and keep showing them what you can do.” Instead of being discouraged, I gave it my all and left softball feeling accomplished.
2. Try your best not to be the reason someone is upset.
It may be a cliché, but my mom taught me to treat others the way I want to be treated. I’ve always tried as hard as I can to be kind and respectful, and I do believe it’s why I’ve so rarely had to deal with anyone bullying me or being mean. What makes it easier to be kind is that she taught me to think about the reasons people might have for their views and behavior. You never know what someone else is going through when they get home. Even if they’re being mean to you, you don’t have to stoop down to what they’re doing. Nobody wants to be mean and unhappy. Everyone has their own struggles, and even if you don’t know what the problem is, you should always try your best to make sure that it isn’t you.
3. If you want things to turn out well, you better work for it.
My mom had my brother when she was seventeen, but didn’t let it stop her from getting her GED. She had me at twenty, and worked full time. By the time she was twenty-four, she graduated from college with a Bachelor’s Degree, on the Dean’s List. (There’s a picture of me, my mom, my dad and my brother at her graduation, her with her crazy perm!) She was able to build a career while raising a family, and thirty years later, she’s set to retire from the same job she started with. From a teen mom perspective, that’s as inspiring as it gets. Anytime I wanted to slack off in school or felt like I just couldn’t handle all my obligations, I’d think “Mom got it done, and she did it fast, and she did it without a TV show. And if she did it, I can do it.”
4. Learn how to be independent, and never forget.
It’s not just about men, but in all areas of life. It doesn’t matter how much people are willing to help you or how much you appreciate it. You should always work to be capable of handling problems yourself before turning to others for help. Not only does it make you a more confident and well-rounded person, but it gives you the strength to make choices even when they might mean losing a measure of comfort or assistance you’ve become dependent on. Besides, if you’re surrounded by a wonderful group of friends, family, and a great partner who would all race to your side should you need them, wouldn’t you want to know that you’re just as capable of helping if they need you someday?
5. Respect yourself and know your worth.
This comes from both my mom and my dad, and what I learned from their relationship. They had their struggles and arguments, but there was always a level of respect between the two of them. One was never scornful or dismissive of the other’s feelings or views. When my mom felt she wasn’t getting an equal level of respect, she demanded it, and my dad paid it. It helped me understand that if you don’t demand that level of respect, it can easily slide away. Watching them interact with each other, I saw that she was demanding it and he was man enough to give it to her. So at the same time, I learned from my dad that that’s what I needed to look for in a partner. It’s thanks to them that I know my standards for how I’ll accept being treated and spoken to.
6. You always need a back-up plan.
She’ll know what that means.
7. Don’t say it’s impossible until Mom has tried it.
I don’t know how many times it was seven in the morning before a softball game and I couldn’t find my socks. I’d comb every inch of my room and turn it upside down before I’d go downstairs swearing I’d looked everywhere in the world. She’d say, “Really?” And then she’d sigh, walk upstairs, and find my socks in two seconds. It always blew my mind. It wasn’t just socks. If I feel like I’ve looked everywhere for a solution to a problem and I still can’t figure it out, I know my mom will suggest something I haven’t considered and make it seem like the most obvious thing in the world. Also, years later, I was getting my son ready for baseball practice and he swore his socks were nowhere to be found. I asked, “Really?” And I sighed, walked in, and found them in two seconds.
8. You can be a parent and a friend.
People always say you should be a parent and not a friend, but my mom always seemed to have the perfect balance of both. I always thought of her and respected her as my mom. But I could also talk to her about things that some teenagers would only talk to their friends about. I always felt like even if she might not want to hear what I had to say or she wasn’t thrilled to have some awkward conversation with me, I knew I could be open without her judging me or being angry. She always knew when to listen as a mom and when to listen as a friend. Because of that, I know to constantly make sure Bentley knows that he can come to me and talk to me about anything at all without feeling like what he thinks, feels, or says is going to change how I feel about him. My mom always kept a line of communication open in a very nonjudgmental way, and she’s my best friend to this day. Frankly, when I want to spend the day drinking beer and talking and having a good time, I go hang out with my parents.
9. Your lipstick only looks as good as the words coming out of your mouth.
It’s another cliché to say that inner beauty is more important than outer beauty, but I’m glad my mom never focused on my appearance. She let me dress the way I wanted to. If I wanted to wear makeup she let me, and if I didn’t want to wear makeup, she had nothing to say about it. She was never the type of mom to say, “Why are you wearing that? It’s ugly.” If I wanted to put on my brother’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tee shirt with some pink shorts and two different shoes, that was fine with her. She was way more concerned with the kind of person I turned out to be on the inside, and so that’s what I learned to care about, too. I think I look better with makeup, but I don’t think twice about going without it. But I will freak out if I think I’ve acted in a way that makes me look like a dumbass.
10. When you find a good partner, let him be a good partner.
For all she taught me about being independent, she also taught me to let people in. And that includes your romantic partner. You should never feel like you can’t live without a man, but when you do find a good one, you have to let him be good. You don’t have to keep proving yourself all the time or reminding him that you don’t need him. Let him take care of you and let yourself enjoy it. That’s what he needs if he loves you, and that’s what you should appreciate in a partnership. Be independent, but don’t be too stubborn about it for your own good.
CHAPTER 3:
THE DAY MY LIFE BEGAN
It was a Saturday morning just like any other Saturday morning...until it wasn’t.
When I got up that day, I had no reason to think anything crazy was about to happen. I hadn’t had any weird dreams. I didn’t feel a sixth sense tingling. I was just minding my own business, rolling out of bed and auto-walking into the shower to start my morning. I bet I wouldn’t even have remembered that day if I hadn’t almost puked.
The wave of nausea hit me out of nowhere as I stepped under the spray, and it was major. My stomach rolled so hard I had to get out and sit next to the toilet, convinced I was about to throw up. I stayed there for a few minutes, not even moving, frozen in that horrible waiting-to-puke zone. But then, to my relief, the feeling passed and I felt fine.
I shrugged it off and got back to my business, still barely even awake. I figured I’d just gotten out of bed too fast, that maybe I’d moved around too much before my body had a chance to adjust. But when I stepped back into the shower, I had another problem: the water was killing my boobs. I couldn’t blame the shower; the water pressure was the same as usual. I didn’t know what to blame. I didn’t have any bruises. I wasn’t on my period. There was no reason why I shouldn’t be able to handle a bit of water on my chest. But I couldn’t! I spent half the shower with my back turned to the spray. That’s how tender my boobs were all of a sudden.
I tried to shrug that off, too. But as I woke up, my brain started connecting the dots for me without even asking my permission. By the time I turned off the water, I knew.
I was pregnant.
I just knew it.
Of course, there’s knowing and there’s knowing. This was the kind that’s easier to keep to yourself. Even though I had a feeling in my gut, I tried to push it all the way out of my head. I’m all about trusting your intuition and everything, but this one seemed kind of...well, insane. There was just no way, I thought. I wasn’t that type of girl. That sort of thing would never happen to me.
The bottom line was, I didn’t say anything to anyone about my shower epiphany. Not one word. To be honest, I barely even said anything to myself about it! Call it denial or call it procrastination, but I spent that weekend deliberately ignoring the elephant in the room. Unfortunately, I couldn’t keep that up for long.