An Old Story Never Told

I have spent countless hours reading a new website that I have found—Homeschoolers anonymous.

After reading their stories and being broken hearted over their lives I know it is time to tell my own story. I begin to realize that I am not alone that what I experienced was not a one-time experience, there are a lot of other people who experienced the same thing.

See I grew up in this great community of homeschoolers where everyone had great experiences and they all planned on homeschooling their own children one day. I just thought there was something wrong with me, I was flawed. Now I know that my experience was not the only one, and that even if for them homeschooling was a great experience and not a suffocating trap at home, for me it was never great.

Right after I wrote the last post on this blog promising to write more often, my life was bombarded with thoughts images and struggle. You see my memories are a stained glass, fragmented thoughts, if you’ve read the Hunger Games I feel a lot like Peeta unsure what is real and what is not real. I couldn’t write for fear of slandering someone in a way that wasn’t true.

I can’t not write anymore.

I’m going to write what I remember, leaving the fear of “disrespecting” and “not honoring my parents” out, I’m not sure how long it will take me to post the story or if anyone will read it, it will be what I remember, and it will be for me. I think it is high time I allowed myself to accept the memories and accept that they are all in the past. I’m writing not to hurt anyone, I am writing so that I might move on.

Here's to writing the past out so I can recognize that it has passed and move on.