Glue

When I was seventeen I graduated High School. I had planned for that day two years before it happened. I thought I would be off to London for school and I would get engaged and then be married to my boyfriend who had gone to the Air force. I planned on a boy & a girl, Jordan & Jorden (how young!) I didn’t plan on him breaking up with me in my junior year. I didn’t plan on being single for a whole year after that and I sure didn’t plan the heart break that came after meeting what I thought was going to be the “love of my life” (oh how we use those words so carelessly). Although my life wasn’t going as planned, I never stopped planning. I never thought about it until now, but back then, nothing stopped me, nothing phased me, nothing broke me.
A new plan took me to Miami then to Orlando, then back home, then to Atlanta. I never planned on going to school in Atlanta, but I did. I packed my suitcase & moved with $200 in my pocket and a head full of dreams. I met new friends, made new enemies, got a boyfriend, lost a boyfriend, found my best friend, started school, dropped out, got a job, partied, got a life, and went on a few dates.
When I turned twenty three I met this guy, he became a good friend, then we dated, then we had a relationship. I was happy, I was “in love” (again, the word love is dangerous man!) That “love” turned to confusion after a year, then to a complication six months after that. Another five months after that when I was finally ready to let that “love” go, I felt nauseous, I was pregnant.
This was not the plan. I didn’t plan on having a baby at twenty five, I wanted to travel. I didn’t plan on not being married; I wanted the big wedding and the honey moon. This didn’t stop me, it didn’t phase me, and it didn’t break me, yet!
My complication said my baby was going to be a complication. You see, he had a family of his own, a family that he hid, a lie that he told well, and one I believed for almost two years. He didn’t want my baby, but I did.
When everything was going wrong, I fell in love again. This time I knew it was true love, with each kick, each sonogram, each lb I gained, each stretch mark, each headache, backache, each contraction and even the c-section scar. At 4:38 PM on July 3rd, I fell in love even more, if possible to all 8 lbs 1oz. of my purpose, my Nia!
I didn’t plan on nine months by myself. I didn’t plan on walking into that delivery room without “daddy”; I didn’t plan on the looks I got that said, another “baby mama”. I hated it! I was ashamed because I didn’t have that ring or that doting father that the other women had. It was just me, I didn’t plan for it, but I had to deal with it. It didn’t stop me, it didn’t phase me, but this time it broke me!
I didn’t plan for each month of her growing and smiling and crawling and walking and talking to make me so happy and simultaneously so sad, but it did. I didn’t plan on depression, but it happened. I didn’t plan on leaving Atlanta, but I had to.
I planned on moving home temporarily, getting a job, saving some money and then being on my way. I didn’t plan on still being here a year later, but I am. I didn’t plan on meeting new friends, but I did. I didn’t plan on going back to school, but I did. I didn’t plan on getting better, but I have.
I plan to live, I plan to love again starting with me first, I plan to drive that dream car and decorate that dream house and walk down that dream isle. I plan to laugh, I plan to go wherever life takes me. 
I'm not stopping, I'm not phased, I'm not broken, anymore! I'm back!