My mom insists on meeting whoever I date, but most the time, I don't date them long enough for all that, lol. Dad just trusts my judgement. Neither of them care about piercings, as long as its in a sensible place, or my clothes. My parents just want me to be myself.
Oh no, after Dad came out of the closet, he's been great. Like, I can tell Dad about my boyfriends and crushes, and he won't freak out like my mom would. Plus, my dad buys me all my makeup, lol.
Pretty much, Mom doesn't try to control me too much; she knows I'm thirteen and very mature and responsible. But, like, if I'm wearing something that I don't look good in, Mom has no problems saying, "Sarah Elizabeth, I love you, but you look a hot mess."
Well, my dad was SUPER controlling back before the divorce, and so afterwards, Mom like tried to reclaim her youth or something. Still, Mom acts more like my older sister than my mom. So, Mom's cool with whatever I want to wear or something like that.
Me too. My sister got hers done for her fourteenth birthday, and it looked really good. I'm slowly but surely talking my mom into letting me get it done lol. I want my belly button pierced too.
Wow. I'm glad you went home. It's harder than people think to survive on your own.
I almost ran away once. Like I had the bag packed and everything, put it in the ditch outside our house. My family knew I took walks all the time, and one day I was walking, and just picked up the bag. I got a mile away before I chickened out and went home. I have all the guts of a kitten.
Well, from the time I was ten to this February, I've had a problem with stealing. When I was younger, it was just lip-gloss slipped into my pocket, a spur-of-the-moment thing for no real reason. Then, in January, my best friend Brittany got into it, and it went from being eyeshadow in my regular purse to me, Brittany, and my sister Codie would all get these huge bags and fill them with whatever we wanted - we usually walked out of there with fifty dollars a piece worth of stuff. It was crazy how good we were at it.
Then, in February, I was in Wal-Mart with my parents, and swiped some mascara. On my way out the door, one of the employees stopped me and asked if I had any mascara in my purse. That was it. I broke down, I started crying, my mom was [i]right there[/i] all of it. I'm lucky I was only twelve at the time and the only thing I had was mascara, or else I could've gotten criminal charges. Now, I'm not allowed back in that Wal-Mart unless one of my parents is with me, and everytime the woman who caught me sees me, she asks if I've been "doing what I'm supposed to." I swear to God, I'm going to be fifty and she'll remember me. I know I deserve it, but still. I haven't stolen anything since. Still, though, my brother won't let me alone in Wal-Mart.
Sorry it was so long, but its kind of a long story... so, why did you run away from home?