Why I started blogging.

So, I’m going to do it. I am going to write a blog… or in lamer terms, I am going to type a bunch of stories about myself and write down the thoughts in my head in hopes that it inspires someone reading them. At first, I thought, who cares about my life saga? Who cares about what I have to say? Well, I care. I care about my experiences and how they’ve made me who I am today. I care about other people going through what I went through and I want them to see that we are all hot messes and it is possible to smile through the disasters in life. I also want them to know that you will come out on the other side… yes, you are going to fail, you are going to fall and get hurt but you will not sink! I promise. You will come out fighting, if I have anything to say about it. With that being said – here’s a little time line of my unfortunate, fortunate life.

Just two years ago, I began working at my first big girl job. What a time to be alive, right? I had just graduated college and I was SO over being the broke, drunk, college girl looking for my next hook up at the fraternity houses. 1. Those guys were never going to grow out of their Sperries and Chubbies and 2. How did I manage to get drunk every weekend with $20 in my bank account… honestly life just wasn’t adding up for me anymore. So, I matured (just a little) and started working 8 hours a day for a corporate company paying me not enough a day. I had to get a second job to be able to move closer to work but then I found myself working 12 hours a day, 5 days a week. At the time, I smiled through the pain. I smiled through the 5 am wake up calls and eating literally every meal out of a to-go container. I thought “this is the struggle you have to go through to be successful”. I mean every successful person starts their story with, “I sat in my dark living room because I couldn’t afford the power bill that month”. If I wanted to prosper, I had to keep my head down and grind every day until my time comes, right? (not to spoil the ending but WRONG).

On top of working two jobs, I somehow found the time to workout every. single. day. As well as, have a social life, because how was I going to meet my husband if I didn’t go out and socialize every week night? (sarcasm) Looking back, I have no idea how I kept all that up. That Madison was a workaholic. BUT that Madison was having the time of her life! I was able to afford to go to fancy dinners with friends and have cocktails with rose petals floating on top. I also was in the best shape of my life. I could see my abs without flexing. Again, what a time to be alive. LOL I was so self-absorbed.

Anyways, during that time I started seeing my college ex-boyfriend. He is a story in himself and you guys will have to live in suspense until I have the courage to write a blog on him but until then, just know, we were not good for each other. We had so much fun together and loved all the same things but we did not bring out the best in one another. I felt like our relationship was a constant up-hill battle … all in all, we were childish and immature but dang did we have fun together.

So, I kept living my best selfish, twenty-something lifestyle like no one could touch me or tell me I was making terrible financial and life decisions. My boyfriend (yes, the same guy I just referred to as my ex-boyfriend was now my current boyfriend) and I went on a trip to Boston right after I had just been offered pretty much my dream job at the time. Life. Was. Good. Until, we got back from our Boston trip. We fought pretty much the whole trip and basically broke up 10 times during the 3 days we were there. We were both confused as to why I was an emotional wreck, why I got sick on the plane ride back and why my boobs were sore for two weeks straight… you can guess where this is going. That next Monday, I found out I was PREGNANT. Yup. Holy freaking crap, I was pregnant. Just remembering that day gives me all the feels. When I say, I have never felt like that in my life I truly mean I have never felt like that in my life, still to this day. That gut wrenching, want to throw up and crawl in a hole alone kind of feeling is honestly one of a kind and I rather never experience it again. Seriously, I thought my life was over.

Fast forward to today… I now live back in my home town, just me and my baby girl who is now 9 months old and working a full-time job. To get the scoop on what all went down in the past year – because I know you guys totally want to know where baby daddy is now - click on my next blog to find out how I am still alive (LOL kidding but not).

Come back soon to read about my pregnancy and how it changed me!

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