The Time I Got In Trouble

When —---- and I reunited at the local fireworks we made out behind CVS. I still had no cell phone but I gave him my email and soon we were sneaking around that summer. We talked to each other every day, met up once a week. We met up at the local campgrounds. One thing I liked about him is how smart he was. Our banter, always flirty, was now downright sexual. —- told me he loved me. I didn’t really believe him because I knew he had said it to many girls. Even as him and I continued to be together I knew there was a chance he was seeing other girls in other circles. He was not one to be satisfied. 

I don’t know what tipped them off but my parents read my journal. I felt embarrassed and violated thinking of the detail I had gone into. But mostly just ashamed. I didn’t regret what I had done but I regret they had to discover this way. My dad asked if we had to worry about me being pregnant. Since we hadn’t had intercourse we didn’t. I got grounded for a while and had restricted computer privileges.

There was also an entry about me going to a friend’s family party. We (all the teenagers) were hanging out in her room when my friend’s cousin started pressuring her to go downstairs and sneak up some alcohol. My friend returned with a bottle of chocolate vodka. No mixers so we did straight shots. After that I went on the trampoline until I got nauseous and lay down, the room spinning. My friend had a friend who wasn’t particularly cute but he was my age. I started kissing him. He asked my name and I could care less about names. That was all in my journal too. 

I could blatantly see my mom looking at me like “Who are you? What is wrong with you?” Turns out I was exhibiting early signs of bipolar disorder which we didn’t figure out until much later. I was so hard on myself in high school for being rebellious and promiscuous. But that was not the reflection of the person I was. My parents realized that too. Even though I got punished they made it clear they would never stop loving me. They continued to let me go to youth group. I was even allowed to   go to my best friend’s sweet sixteen. And as far as I know they never read my journal again.