Alright, so I felt like I needed to explain where/how the Bio and became this complicated duo of non-conversing angst. It all started in the Fall of 1991, yes 18 years ago, I had English class with the most adorable mullet wearing boy I’d ever seen…I was lost from the second he turned around to hand me the class seating chart.

He was my first boyfriend, my first kiss and my first heartbreak…oh, the days of doubling up on socks and teased bangs. Sigh.

We dated for most of Middle School…fast forward to high school. It was a whole different scene and this goody two shoes could not compete with girls who could have boys in their rooms with the door closed and those who had a clue about what ‘heavy petting’ really meant. My naive mind frame and my desire to figure out what exactly it was I wanted to do with the rest of my life at age 13 created a tension between me and my betrothed.

We broke up just one month into high school…well, he dumped me for some girl who allegedly went ‘all the way’. This wretched feeling destroyed my outlook on boys, dating and my plan to marry this boy and have his babies…yes, at that age I thought he was the ONE.

During our tender teen years, we hooked, we were ‘just friends’ and managed to make each other miserable, all while keeping the friendship going…he was the one person who I could really talk to and be honest with about my feelings…high school was not awful, but it wasn’t fun either. It wasn’t until the Spring of 1995 when I found out that he was making life choices that I couldn’t be a part of…again the Miss Goody Goody in me stomped my foot and walked away. I wrote him and detached myself, prepared to never speak to him again. It worked. He was gone. He was no longer a part of my existence. I pretended he didn’t go to MY school…done and done.

Fast forward to December 2003…seven years after high school graduation, I was a rockin’ indie chick with travel under my belt and kick bootie job with a non-profit that was ideal for my tree-hugging rocker lifestyle. I was dating the cutest Emo guy on the block and loving my life…then, it happened. One random night strolling the streets of my hometown with my Mr. Emo and there he was sitting on the patio at the Pool Haul I used to frequent as a teenie bopper.

In a heartbeat, my life was upside down and yikes I was that same mushy melty preteen ding dong. We exchanged information and got in touch on and off, but it was until January that we met up for dinner. It was essentially the last supper for me and my indie life…and Mr. Emo went back to New York never to be seen or heard from again. Sigh.

Needless to say, my life was never the same. The Bio had changed from that semi-loser teen who made choices to hurt people and leave them behind, but all I saw was a second chance to make it right and make it work. We were grown-ups and this was different…right? WRONG!! Just because someone chooses to stop elects to choose to change their lifestyle doesn’t mean that they have ultimately changed.

The next three years were laced with break-ups and lies and more heartbreaks and tons of pain. It was not really anyone’s fault per say…’you just can’t go forcing something if it’s just not right’ (green day). In the end, I was happy to be done with the whole ordeal and ready to move on…I was 27 and still had some of my 20’s left to rage like nobodies business.

WAIT! NOPE! That’s when I got preggers…just when the relationship was dying on it’s own and on it’s last leg, my Higher Power gave me a child with the one person I couldn’t wait to be away from so, I could begin healing.

So, like the genius’ we are we gave it ONE MORE SHOT!! March 13, 2006 is when it ended. I spent the rest of that day in the hospital with bleeding and trying to figure out where I was going to go from here. Oh, wait after the hospital we decided to still live in the same house because of finances and to work on a co-parenting plan and it all seemed so fantastic…and, really it was torture.

My son was born on July 14, 2006 at 8:04am, 8 weeks preemie due to unrelated pregnancy issues (meaning my stress levels were too high for my body to do everything and it panicked). He was only 3lbs. 4 oz and at that point I was done. I packed up my life and moved in with my Mom and Dad…the most amazing people on two feet. (okay four between the two of them)

Today, almost 3 years later, I’m recovering from what I did to ME. I’m working on how to be a co-parent with a person I don’t know or understand. I’m working on repairing my financial life and getting on my ‘own’. Today I am the Mommy of an amazing little boy who shows me everyday what life is supposed to be…unconditional love, unbelievably fun and above all just living.

I am LiL’Devil Mama…and searching for Deanna Leigh.