For as long as I can remember I dreamed of moving to California. I don’t recall when or why that thought even formulated in my mind. Perhaps it was because of the usual “Hollywood Appeal” the dream of being rich and famous. Perhaps it was because California was so far away from the small country town in Alabama where I grew up; it was pretty much as far away as I could ever get without leaving the country. I wanted to escape that small, mediocre, boring lifestyle even as a child.

The first memory I have of really voicing or planning for this dream was when I was in the 5th grade. My StepFather had a death in his family and relatives from all over flew into town. One of those being his Uncle and Aunt from Sacramento. I had never met them but they were immediately the coolest family members I had. They were an older couple, probably in their late 50s but they just seemed so hip. I was comfortable around these virtual strangers the moment I met them. My StepFather introduced me to them by telling them I want to move to California when I finish High School. That I want to go to UCLA and he doesn’t want me that far away without any family. They talked to me about California, about LA, and about Sacramento. They weren’t too keen on me going to Los Angeles but encouraged me to come to Sacramento and Northern California. To this day I remember how excited I was to just have had the conversation with someone. To slowly start to plan and build this dream so that it would in fact one day be my reality. God, that was nearly 20 years ago and I’ve still only visited the state once. Time to get the ball rolling!!

I never liked school but I was always good at it. I’d skip class or get suspended; not study for tests or turn in homework late and still pass the semester with As and Bs. For some reason book smarts came easy to me. As much as it may have bored me, this became my ticket out. I would put in more effort and excel in school. That would get me into the college of my choice and that would get me out of this pathetic southern town life that I so dreaded getting trapped in forever. My Grandparents had always put such an emphasis on us going to college that I knew this would be the only way they would “help” me leave. So that became my plan. I got my GPA up to  3.8, aced my ACTs, started building my college application by taking on Extra Curricular activities, like the Beta Club, and doing Community Service. It was hard, I didn’t really enjoy it, but this was my PLAN and I stuck with it.

The beginning my Senior year I was stressed. I knew I had to crack down and get a higher score on my SATs, I knew I had to start writing all those Admission Papers to accompany my college applications, but I was focused. I had been meeting with my Counselor/Advisor regularly about my goals.One meeting she had scheduled my Dad and Grandmother to attend. My Dad had never believed in me period, probably had never even listened to me rave about my plans to go to UCLA. When the counselor mentioned my desire to attend college in California he chuckled, “California? That sounds expensive.” Very matter-of-factly the counselor agreed with his statement, “It’s about $30,000 a semester.” WOW! $30,000?!? I knew it was going to be expensive but I couldn’t even fathom that amount f money, and that was only ONE semester? My Dad was pretty much a dead beat. He never really did shit for us growing up, we didn’t typically have much. My Grandparents had been wealthy in their younger years and while their increase in age and all the issues that come along with this had significantly altered their lifestyle, I just knew there was a College fund. I’m not sure why I thought I “knew” that but I was convinced of it. Had never in the YEARS of executing my UCLA plan thought that if I made it all happen I wouldn’t be able to go because of the cost. Call me a naive child, but I truly believed if I “earned” it I would receive it. My Grandmother’s mouth dropped at the figure, $30,000, but she didn’t say a word. I knew that wasn’t a good sign.

Sure enough, when I got home from school my Grandparents sat me down, of course Dad was nowhere in sight, and explained that they simply could not afford to send me to a school that would cost $30,000 per semester, or even $30,000 per year. Perhaps I should consider going to the University of Alabama, at least for a few years. Or maybe I could get a scholarship. Well, while my grades, test scores, and achievements were great, they weren’t AMAZING. To get an academic scholarship into a school like UCLA would take MAJOR achievements. I just hadn’t achieved “enough.” You can’t get a scholarship for the Dance team?” My Dad would later joke. Sports scholarships are rarely awarded for what I refer to as the “Girly Sports.” As much skilled is required to do many of these it’s just not enough to earn you a full ride. SO NOW WHAT?

Honestly, in that moment I kindof gave up. I refused to even apply to the University of Alabama because I was so persistence my ENTIRE life that I wouldn’t end up there. I started slacking on my school work and my As dropped to Cs. Then second semester came along and I found myself moving in with my high school sweetheart. Now I had another reason not to leave. He was “The Love of My Life,” how could I leave him behind? Lord, was I naive. I applied to the local Community College and received a Full Academic Scholarship. How ironic was it that I used to laugh at the people who went there, referring to it as the “13th grade” of my High School; it was literally right across the street. I had always wanted to get as far away as possible and now not only was I not leaving, I was staying in virtually the EXACT same place.

After my scholarship was secure I stopped caring about my grades at all. I ended my last semester of High school with only Ds on my report card. All that planning had been for nothing, all that work had been in vain. The only thing that soothed the blow as they accounted my name and the school I would be attending at my Graduation Ceremony, was the fact that I was with this man that I though would supersede all my previous dreams. The one I thought would replace my Fairy Tale of California. So I put all my effort into him, all my hopes into him, all my plans into him, all my dreams into him. I gave up on that glittering, golden star covered dream of California and settled for the exact same situation I had spent all those years trying to escape. I shredded the escape plan I had worked so hard to draft, I threw in the towel after all the work I had put in just as i was insight of the finish line. I was accepted to both the University of Miami and UCLA but I chose to attend my Hometown’s Community College.