My Story

Well, it seems appropriate to give you my story while we're kind of getting to know each other. I'll give a "brief" run down of my life from start to now... to give you an idea on why I am... you know, the way I am.

I came into the world circa 1986 and grew up in a small town in VERY rural Pennsylvania. I was the middle kid; older sister, younger brother and had mostly all boyfriends and boy cousins that I played with. I never liked the color pink or anything overly girly. I sported backwards ball caps, my jeans were dirt stained in the knees and my hair was blonde and as wild as my spirit. I loved climbing trees, building forts, finding animals (I could get wild and stray animals to walk right to me), riding bike, rollerblading, playing baseball, football, basketball, kick the can, capture the flag and showing all the boys how tough I was.

I did fairly well in high school. I was an honor student, involved in sports year-round, student council, band and class Vice President. It was a small school so cliques’ kind of bled together in some areas... but not all. I kind of fit in anywhere and I liked it that way. I never wanted to be an ass hole to anyone, for me it was important to have good relationships with everyone. That was probably why I ended up getting prom princess my junior year and homecoming queen my senior year. That wasn't why I was like that though... I wasn't kind to everyone to be popular. I have always had a strong sense of right and wrong and standing up for people who couldn't/wouldn't stick up for themselves. I was an easy-going kid, but I could not seem to sit by and let someone get bullied, even if it opened me up for ridicule in return.

My freshman year I kind of came into my own. I started buying my own cd's and picking out my own clothes. I was OBSESSED with heavy metal and hard rock. The heavier and more screaming there was, the better! My style was band t-shirts, skater shoes and funky/fun belts. I always felt things pretty deeply. Music, my feelings, other people’s feelings, everything really... I connected with anything that was painful or meaningful. It fascinated me and called to me like a siren's song. I could take thoughts and twist them and make them dark(er). I could take a feeling I was having and make it something deeper and darker. I scribbled in my notebooks, writing lyrics and poetry. The darker and more twisted, the better. I wanted to be metal. I was metal. Everything was taken to the extreme, always. That was who I was, and I wanted to stay true to who I was.

After years of begging for a guitar and a drum set… I got my first guitar at 18. I wished I wasn't so far behind on learning... but I was glad to have it. I taught myself to play tabs and would sit in my room for hours learning songs, writing lyrics, and laying on my bed listening to music. I daydreamed about getting in a band of my own and shredding and sharing my art with others. I had loads of friends in bands and I started going to live shows. Live music only made me that more obsessed. I would go and it would feed fire to my soul and I would get pissed at myself. Why am I not doing this?! I need to do this! I dated musicians and had friends that were musicians, but I never felt like I measured up to them. No one wanted to be in a band with me either... so my confidence in my music and my abilities to play or sing was shot.

Highschool was coming to an end. It was time to start planning for college. I put off planning because I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do... I just knew it was going to be with music. I was fairly artistic... so my parents always pictured me going to school to be an art teacher. When they asked me what I wanted to go to college for, and I told them studio sound and record production., they laughed at me and told me to get a job. So... I did. I started working in telecom. I freaking hated it. It didn't interest me in the least and it was almost painful to be there.

Years pass... the company I was working for, was bought by a larger company. That company also bought a bunch of other companies and a few guys transferred in from one of those companies on a one-year contract, from Chicago. I was a young 21-year-old, who hated her job and still had music on her mind. I ended up dating one of those guys with BIG plans of moving out to Chicago with him when his year was up. I couldn't seem to get anything going with anyone in my small-town area, so screw it. I'd move to Chicago and make a real go of it.

It was 2 weeks until we moved to Chicago and I was really sick, I couldn't figure it out. One of my friends was joking around and said, "you're probably pregnant." Well, she was right. Two weeks before we moved to Chicago... and now I'm moving there for a completely different reason. My dream of being a rockstar in Chicago went out the door, the minute I found out I was going to be a mom. I was moving out there for a totally different reason now. I had to go and give this child a chance to have her mother and her father in her life. We hadn't been together a full year when I got pregnant. Getting pregnant before marriage, to a guy I was only starting to get to know, was not something I ever thought would happen to me, but it did.

So. I move to the suburbs of Chicago with the father of my child. I'm 21. pregnant for the first time ever, have no idea what to expect and now I'm 600+ miles away from all my family, my friends and everything I had ever known... what could be worse?!

Well, I'll tell you...

The father of my child changed the minute (and I mean the minute) we got to Chicago. It was like a light switch, night and day. He was like an entirely different person. He hated me for getting pregnant, hated me for being there, he would leave in the middle of the night while I was sleeping. I would wake up and couldn't find him. No note, no text, nothing... and when I asked him where he had gone, I was told "it was none of my business, it didn't concern me." I felt trapped in a little duplex, alone, no car, I didn't know anyone, hormonal, with a man who drank constantly, was verbally abusive and either wasn't there or would just up and vanish. I cried more in that first pregnancy than I had my entire life. I cried so much and so hard... I was terrified I was going to hurt my baby in doing it.

Eventually we moved to a better house, I tried like hell to make it feel like a home. It helped the situation to keep myself busy with home renovations to prepare for the baby. Things weren't good... he was a raging alcoholic, I was belittled and/or screamed at over nothing, and when he got way too drunk... he was physically abusive. A real gem of a man. Our daughter eventually came into the world, and we got married 7 months later. I thought it was the right thing to do, for my daughter. I didn't want her to come from a broken home. I got pregnant with our second daughter less than 2 years later, which was quite a surprise. He kept pushing for an abortion. He would bring it up often, reminding/pleading that "we don't have to go through with this." That was just not something I was ever or could ever do. He did this steadily the first 3-5 months.

Things weren't good between us. I was only having sex with him, to keep him from running out and cheating on me. At the time, we were still "trying" to work things out. It didn't make any difference, he was cheating on me. He stopped coming home after work, stating he was hanging out with his work buddies. Which, I guess he was... but it wasn't the boys, it was a girl he worked with. He told me, that she was a lesbian and for me not to worry about her being there with them. I didn't buy it for a second, but by then I was so over it. It was easier without him at the house anyways. I knew... when my second daughter was born... we were gone. It was clear he was done with the marriage and didn't want me having the baby because he wanted life with her, (though he refused to admit to it). So I... happily obliged.

When my daughters were 2 years and 6 months old, after a couple very concerning gun scares and him starting to belittle my 2-year-old daughter... I decided it was time for us to leave. We left him and moved back home to Pennsylvania and I never looked back. I was not going to live that life... I was not going to have my girls grow up thinking how he behaved and treated us was okay... or normal. I was so thankful for my parents and the way they raised us and their character values and love for one another. Had I not had that growing up, I might not have known better to get myself and my girls out of that situation. My dad came out to get us. I packed up the few things we had in a U-Haul and we headed home. Every mile closer to home was that much more weight off my chest. I never looked back. He never wanted us... I gave it my all, to try to do the right thing for the girls. But, in the end, the best thing I could do for them, was to leave and get as far away from his toxic behaviors and personality traits as we could. It is not an ideal situation, but it forced me to be strong, brave the unknown and have confidence in myself and my abilities (something he made a point to try to destroy within me).

We lived with my parents for about 7 months, while I fixed up their rental house for us to live in. We moved into the house with the mindset that it was only temporary. I was working and saving to get us a house of our own. It was all I could think of, making a home for us. I had longed for that feeling of home for so long. I tried to make other places feel like home, but nothing ever did.

I met a guy... we won't take much time on him... but he was from the area, a pretty boy. I was working in a pizza shop and he kept coming in. He was very cute, I'd known who he was since high school and always thought so, but I just assumed he was with someone. I was totally oblivious that he was coming in to see me and was interested in me. He seemed like a nice guy, came from a good family, much like my own... but I didn't want him to meet the girls. He assured me, he knew I was a package deal, and he wanted the whole package. Fed me lines about how his last girlfriend never brought her son around and that was a huge issue for their relationship. So, I said okay and eventually I introduced the girls to him. Things were going great. I was very happy... then he disappeared. No rhyme or reason. 8 months in and we were ghosted. He never gave me a reason... but, I'm fairly confident it was due to a girl he worked with. One that he assured me was "obnoxious, and he couldn't stand her." Really classy. (I'm noticing a pattern here, are you?) He actually broke up with me, by changing his Facebook status to single. Neat.

I will admit, I was pretty devastated in the beginning. The lack of closure or reasoning and just complete and utter silence out of nowhere, bothered me for a while. It was like, just say the words so I can put this behind me, but he wouldn't. So, I was just like "You know what?! Screw him. I dodged a bullet..." I realized he was not much of a man to begin with. Just another jerk wearing a mask. And all at once, I was over it.

I am not the type of woman that introduces her kids to a bunch of "potential daddies." I'm so thankful they were very little at the time and don't remember him. I count my blessings for that. I would NOT make that mistake again. I spent the next 4 years after that working hard, getting better jobs, and building the highest and thickest walls around us. My standards were sky high and no one less than what I wanted and what we deserved would get through my walls to hurt us again.

Years pass. I was busy being a warrior woman. I got a really great job (in which I still am employed) and was so busy being the heroine of our story, that I (again) didn't realize another guy was interested in me. I had never in my life met a man with such strong character. A man that's morals matched my own. He was a hard worker, quiet and very kind. He was shy and professional when we were around each other, so it took me a while to realize he was into me. He seemed to check all the boxes when it came to finding a man worthy enough to allow into our lives. I honestly, did not think that man existed. I was fully prepared to die alone. Good guy or not, I was still very scared to let anyone in. He was scared too. Boss lady like I was... and two little girls... I couldn't blame him. We established a firm friendship... and eventually he became my boyfriend.

Fast forward 4 years... and you have finally made it to my life today. Still with that same man. He's a good man, a very good man. That has not changed. Honestly... not much has changed. He's a very (painfully) slow mover and we've gone through some real shit together. It wasn't until I met him, and we got in a relationship together that I discovered... the damage my marriage with the girl's father had caused. I thought I made it out relatively unscathed. I was wrong.

Did you know... in a healthy relationship... both parties are allowed to have a voice? I knew that, but I was experiencing some PTSD (of sorts) where I legitimately could not communicate the minute my partner got even the slightest tone in his voice. I would sink down inside myself. It was like I was sitting at the bottom of a well inside myself. I could hear everything that was being said... but all I could do was internalize how I NEEDED to change this... how I NEEDED to fix this... how I WAS broken and worthless and unlovable. It took years for me to learn to communicate. Years for me to be able to make eye contact with my partner when we would have a disagreement. Years... and I'm still not where I want to be with it.

I'm still living in the same "temporary" rental house of my parents... (it’s been 8 years now). I'm desperately trying to save money to build us a house. That is my BIGGEST and most desperate goal. I'm hoping to figure out how to make some money on the side, with this project to help get us there. I'm so miserable here and I have let that consume me. It consumes everything. I do not want a temporary house; I don't want to live a temporary life. I am a woman with goals and purpose.

I've lost myself a bit these last 4 years, I developed hypothyroidism. I was so exhausted for 2 years and gained so much weight, practically overnight but couldn't figure out what was happening to me. I'm finally on medication that has my levels in check... but I'm still tired. Always tired. I've been depressed due to the weight gain, the tiredness, and frustration of still being in this house and not moving forward on my goals/dreams.

So, after years of sitting in this pit, this purgatory state of life, I got really pissed off at myself. This is not who I am. Sitting around not actively going after shit and letting my life pass me by. I'm doing nothing. I am being LESS than LETHAL. I am done with that life. I'm done waiting around for other people to make things happen, that clearly aren't as invested in the dream as me. I didn't soldier on all these years... to lay in this trench and die. I clawed my way out and I'm standing at the edge of that pit... but I'm not focused on it. I'm not looking back and pouting about all the time I wasted, waiting for someone to love me how I needed, or take the next steps in a relationship. My head is up. I am at the base of a great mountain and I'm readying myself to climb. I will get everything I want from this life. I will give my girls the best life, because that is what they deserve. I have come so far and done so much... but I'm nowhere near done. I've got this... I always have and I always will.

I'm striving for happiness, pushing for success, reaching for the stars.

I'm going to make my dreams a reality.

I am Layney Lethal... and I'm here to shake shit up.

It's great to meet you.

Let’s do this!

All my love!

Lethal \m/