Brandon Stanton's Blog, page 50

“I’d been living a reckless life. I was stealing a lot. I was...

“I’d been living a reckless life. I was stealing a lot. I was dabbling in drugs. I’d gotten to the point where I had no hope and no faith. Eventually I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital because of a suicide attempt. My parents came to visit me. We’d never seen eye-to-eye. But they told me: ‘Come home and we’ll pretend nothing happened.’ It was a toxic thing to say, but I was relieved to have any sort of support. We’d always been a military family. So even though I wanted to go to college, I saw enlisting in the Air Force as the only way to redeem myself. The recruiter told me that I needed to lose 70 lbs in three months. But I was determined.  I started working out three times a day. I became addicted to counting calories. And it was during this period that I met Irina. We were working at the same restaurant. One night we were folding napkins together, and I sort of just poured out my whole life story. She didn’t seem to mind. We began to hang out quite a bit. She started taking me to church with her. She’d come to the gym with me every day. And even though she was in much better shape, she’d always run at my pace. She supported me every step of the way. She even came with me when I got a tattoo to cover up the scars from my suicide attempt. Everything seemed to be on track. But on the day of my final weigh-in, I was .2 lbs over. Standing on that scale, I actually felt a sense of peace. My recruiter told me to try again next week, but I turned her down. I knew I didn’t want to be in the Air Force. My parents were so disappointed that they told me not to come home. That night Irina and I sat in a park for two hours. She told me: ‘I’m always here for you. And so is my family.’ If it wasn’t for her and the church, I’d probably be in a hospital bed right now. Either that or I wouldn’t be here at all. But instead I’m about to graduate with a social work degree. Irina and I are living our dreams together. We’re roommates. Both of us are youth group leaders. And both of us are working as addiction counselors. I’m finally living life on my own terms. I want to be the person that I needed when I was a kid, the person that Irina was for me.”

“I’d just gotten out of a ten-year relationship. I didn’t want...

“I’d just gotten out of a ten-year relationship. I didn’t want to date. I didn’t even know how to date. But my friend Marla was really working on me. For months she was trying to get me to go on a blind date with her friend Kate. She’d talk about her. She’d show me pictures. But I was scared, so I’d find any excuse not to go through with it. She seemed too wholesome. She was from the Midwest. And worst of all, she had a kid. I was childless for a reason. I’d had a difficult childhood. My father was an alchoholic and sexually abusive. Two of my siblings died by suicide. And somehow I’d internalized that it was my fault. I had a belief that children ruined their parents’ lives. But I agreed to meet Kate anyway. We met at a park in the middle of a rare March snowstorm. The snow was really coming down, but we still walked for three miles around a lake. Kate talks a lot when she’s nervous, so I heard her whole life story. Being a mother was such an important part of her life. And she was determined to have another child. She’d just gotten to the end of a long adoption process, but at the last minute, the girl’s father wouldn’t let a lesbian adopt her child. I listened to Kate’s heartbreak, and her determination, and I couldn’t help falling in love. After a few months of dating, I was allowed to meet her son. And he was wonderful. But another child? A baby? I tried to talk her out of it. And she tried to meet me in the middle. She did her best to not want another child. But eventually she told me that it was going to happen, and I needed to make a decision. I took a two-week trip to Bali for a yoga retreat. I sat in daily meditation. And one morning I had a vision of a young girl in my lap. I could feel her warmth against my body. I seemed happy. And she seemed happy. It was such a feeling of peace. And there was Kate, smiling at us both. By the time I opened my eyes, I had made my decision. But unbeknownst to me, Kate had also made a decision. She needed a partner who was fully committed. So she came to the airport ready to break up with me. But she didn’t have a chance. Because the moment I got off the plane, I told her: ‘Let’s get married. I’m ready to be a mother.’”

“It drove my mom mental. The minute I got home, I was right in...

“It drove my mom mental. The minute I got home, I was right in front of the computer. But video games were the only place I fit in. I was never very popular in school, even though I wanted to be. But things were different online. People respected the way I played. Back then it was mostly Warcraft III, and I was good at it. I wasn’t ranked at the top or anything, but I had over 1800 wins. Most people didn’t even believe I was a girl. One night I was randomly paired with a player named SirFishingKill, and we stomped the other team. We overran their bases with a giant army of crypt fiends and frost wyrms. Then we played another game. And another. Until before long we were playing almost every night. Our conversations were mainly about strategy, but gradually we learned more about each other. His name was Patrick. He was eighteen. And he only lived a few hours away in Toronto. During one of our talks I asked if he wanted to meet. At first he was reluctant because I don’t think he believed I was a girl. But when I visited Toronto with a group of friends, he agreed to meet us at Union Station. I had no idea what he looked like. I just knew he had blonde hair and blue eyes. So when I finally found him, I kinda clammed up. It was like: ‘Oh my God, this guy is cute.’ We spent hours walking around the city. We went to the top of the CN tower. And after that day, our conversations became much more frequent. We’d have these long MSN chats every night. I’d rush to my computer the moment I got home. It felt nice. To get to talk to someone. Even if it was about my stupid day. Patrick was the first boyfriend I’d ever had, even if our relationship was mostly online. He broke me out of my shell. I wasn’t the girl who stared at her shoes anymore. Somebody cared what I had to say. The relationship only lasted seven months. We were so young, and there was no way long distance would work. But my new sense of confidence stayed with me. And several years later, when we reconnected as adults, everything just clicked. We got married in 2017. It wasn’t a total gamer wedding. Nobody dressed like elves or anything. But we did play some World of Warcraft tavern music at the reception.”

“I called our neighborhood ‘The Bermuda Triangle.’ A lot of...

“I called our neighborhood ‘The Bermuda Triangle.’ A lot of talented people never made it out. All three of my older siblings dropped out of school. I really wanted to graduate from college, but I wasn’t the best student. And my parents didn’t speak English so they couldn’t help me with applications. Only one college even accepted me, and I missed the deadline for the interview. A few weeks later our assistant principal Ms. Effinger stopped me in the hallway. She asked me where I was going to school. I explained that I’d been accepted to SUNY Purchase but had missed the deadline. That’s when she grabbed me by the arm and said: ‘Come to my office.’ She called the admissions office and asked them to give me another opportunity. But she didn’t stop there. She asked my mom for permission to let me sleep at her house. Then the next morning she drove me to SUNY Purchase. The interviewer said that I must be special if my principal would go through all that effort, and I ended up getting accepted. But the story didn’t end well. I just wasn’t ready. And after a year, my GPA fell so low that I was dismissed. I felt horrible. I asked the school if I could come speak to new students, and inspire them to make better choices than I did. I still do that today. But I felt most badly about Ms. Effinger. I never spoke to her again. I couldn’t face her. This woman had gone out of her way to do something for me, and I’d ruined it. But she still changed my life. Even though I didn’t graduate, I never moved back to Harlem. I ended up finding a good job at a wholesale center, and my children were given opportunities that I never had. A few years ago I enrolled in night courses at SUNY Purchase. My boss couldn’t understand why I was going back to school, but I was carrying such a huge burden. I felt like I owed something to Ms. Effinger. I finally graduated this year, and I found her on Facebook. I gave her a call. I told her everything that happened over the years. I said: ‘You changed my life. And I don’t understand why you did it. I don’t understand what you saw in me.’ She replied: ‘I did it because you had potential. And I couldn’t understand why you didn’t see that in yourself.’”

“During my ‘Little House On The Prairie’ phase, Mom made a...

“During my ‘Little House On The Prairie’ phase, Mom made a covered wagon out of an old Radio Flyer. She was always crafting and inventing things. That’s how she was during our entire childhood. When we were watching The Sound of Music, she sewed the costumes for us. And when I fell in love with American Girl dolls, she wrote a movie about all the characters. She invited my friends to be the actors. And she even rented our local theater to screen the film. My interests changed as I got older, but I never outgrew my dolls. I learned photography by taking their photos. I’d create little scenes and stories. And whenever I had a new idea, my mom was there to help with the props and outfits. I needed the encouragement because I never had much confidence. Things got especially bad during high school. I hated how I looked. And what I wore. I felt self-conscious that my hobby was dolls. My mom could sense I was getting depressed. And every time I came home from school, she’d ask: ‘What can I do, Syd?’ But I never had an answer. Then one night we were watching ‘Stand By Me,’ and suddenly I got really excited about recreating the scenes with my dolls. Of course my mom encouraged me.  We spent hundreds of hours going to thrift stores. We found exact fabric matches to what the boys wore, and my mom made perfect replicas. She was also in charge of the set design. Every detail was perfect. We took a road trip to Oregon where the film was shot, and spent an entire day shooting in the town. It was the most fun I’d ever had. And I knew I’d discovered my passion. Since then we’ve recreated scenes from over twenty movies. I’ve gotten commissions from all over the country. I take the photos, and mom does everything behind the scenes. She doesn’t want credit. That’s who she is. And not just for me, for everyone. She does everything for my dad who has stage four cancer. But if an elderly neighbor needs their lawn mowed, she’s the one who shows up. Mom always told me that she was just like me as a child. She never had confidence. She never trusted her talent. So she’s always been behind the scenes. But she’s the most creative and selfless person I know. And I finally want her to be seen.”

“There was a big drug bust in 2014 called ‘Operation Dead End.’...

“There was a big drug bust in 2014 called ‘Operation Dead End.’ They listed all the names in the local paper. Most of them were young kids. But then there’s my dad at the bottom, 55 years old. It was humiliating to see my last name in the paper. I called him and said: ‘What the fuck is this?’ But he just brushed it off in his typical way. He can be very convincing, which is probably why my mom stayed with him for thirteen years. He’s got this high-pressured speech, even when he’s sober. It’s captivating. It can draw you in. For most of my childhood he lived at my grandparents’ house. They had a swimming pool, and pinball machines, and an air hockey table. The court said I wasn’t supposed to be alone with him, but he’d always convince me. And I’d convince my mom. Even though he invested time, it was always to the point of him leaving later. So he could do his crack and not feel guilty about it. He’d show up for ten minutes before I went to prom. He came to my high school graduation, but was gone by the time I finished walking. I remember always thinking he was going to die. I’d write him letters. I’d leave him voicemails. But he never stopped using. After Operation Dead End, the judge gave him an option to enroll in a three-year diversion program. I was there for him as much as a college kid could be. I called him every day. He’d cry a lot, which was new. He’d say: ‘It’s hard. It’s so hard. But I’m going to get sober.’ And he did. He’s been clean for four or five years now. My whole childhood I was desperate for his attention. And now he bugs the shit out of me. He calls me four or five times a day. He’s been addicted to drugs for most of his life, so there’s a lot he didn’t learn: building credit, paying bills, stuff like that. My mom says I’m the parent and he’s the child. But at least I’ve got him. I just want him to live his life and enjoy it. It wasn’t easy what he did. He turned his life around. So I’ve let go of my expectations. For the longest time I thought he was going to die in some crack house. But now he can see me get married. He can meet his grandchildren. I’m not ashamed to be connected with him anymore. I’m actually proud to have his last name.”

“I heard the rumor from a random girl in school. She told me...

“I heard the rumor from a random girl in school. She told me that my boyfriend had gotten another girl pregnant. He’d cheated on me before, so I assumed it was true. But for awhile he denied everything. Then he shifted to blaming the girl. Her name was Stacie. And as the story often goes, I turned all my hatred and hurt toward her. We literally never spoke. And my boyfriend would talk her down every chance he got. I’d occasionally see her when she dropped the baby off at the house. I’d feel such hatred every time the doorbell would ring. She was always so well put-together. There was this unapproachable air about her. Like she was better than everyone else. Worst of all, she had this connection with my boyfriend that I didn’t have. The connection of a child. And that was thrown in my face every time she came to the door. My jealousy created a monster inside of me. I withdrew from everyone. Then one year later I got pregnant myself. I didn’t feel any excitement. Instead there was a moment of clarity. I couldn’t raise a child with this man. He was a pathological liar. For weeks I went back-and-forth. Do I get an abortion? Do I give the child up for adoption? Then one day I made the decision to become a single mother. I remember being so scared. And the first person I thought of was Stacie. It was like: ‘My God, I’ve vilified this woman for so long. And now I’m her. And she is me.’ I picked up my phone and sent her a text. I apologized for everything. And I asked for her support. That was eleven years ago. But we still love to joke about how our horrible taste in men when we were young brought us together. Stacie is my best friend in the world. She’s my person. Our daughters know each other as sisters. At times she’s been my roommate, my biggest confidant, and my maid of honor. Sometimes I think back to those early days, watching her walk up the driveway. I think about all the hatred I would feel. And now it’s her hugs that I need when I’m feeling upset. There have been some bad episodes in my life. But every time I’m down, she shows up. The doorbell will ring on a random Tuesday. At 4 PM. And when I open up the door, there she is. And she’ll give me the biggest hug.”

“I really wish he’d left letters. My sister was relieved,...

“I really wish he’d left letters. My sister was relieved, because she didn’t want to read it. She knew what a letter would say: ‘I love you,’ ‘You’re going to be OK,’ and all that stuff. And that’s probably true. But still. I wanted to know what mine would say. I wanted one that said: ‘Dear Claire.’ Maybe there would have been something different. Something just for me. I was the sporty one. In high school I played on his water polo team. And he’s the first one I called when my college team won the ultimate frisbee championship. I called him for everything. So many of my friends hated their dads. They wanted nothing to do with them. I used to feel so sorry for them. But now they still have their stupid dads, and I don’t. He left nothing behind. No explanation. I learned later that he’d been battling OCD his entire life. Maybe water polo was the thing that kept him grounded. He coached for thirty years. It was his passion. So when he finally retired, and he lost that focus, his problems became more apparent. Toward the end he stopped sleeping. He was terrified of germs. He thought every little thing was going to kill him. Maybe he was so afraid of death that he couldn’t wait anymore. But this is all a guess, he never shared his problems with me. It’s like: ‘C’mon Dad, we could have talked about it. I’m going to find out eventually if you kill yourself.’ He never wanted a funeral, but we hosted a water polo tournament in his honor. The turnout was amazing. People came from all over the country. When it was time for the women’s game, I went back to the office to change into my suit. My dad had spent a lot of time in there. In the corner there was a desk that served as a lost and found. It was covered in old goggles and things that nobody wanted to reclaim. Lying on the pile was a slightly rusting necklace, in the shape of a heart. There was a letter C on it. Maybe I should have left it, but I felt like it was for me. I know it’s stupid. Usually I roll my eyes at that kind of stuff. But it was a heart. On that day. In that spot. With a letter C. And It just felt like mine to keep. It felt like something that finally said: ‘I love you. And you’re going to be OK.’”

“He wasn’t my type. He was nerdy. He was wearing Converse. And...

“He wasn’t my type. He was nerdy. He was wearing Converse. And he talked like a robot. But it had been over a year since anyone had paid attention to me. And I was enjoying our conversation. I never told him that I had a daughter. I just wanted to be ‘that girl at the brewery.’ For one afternoon, I didn’t want to be the young, single mother. And it was nice. It was nice to feel wanted again. When he asked if we could go out sometime, I didn’t even hesitate. But I started feeling nervous as soon as I got home. Because I started thinking about all the places a date could lead, and I knew I had to tell him. So I sent him a text. It said: ‘You should know I have a daughter. Things aren’t good with her father. I’m not asking you to fill that role, but if you want to cancel the date, we can.’ There were twenty minutes of silence. And then he replied: ‘It is what it is.’ Just like a robot. Then he wrote: ‘If the date sucks, we never have to talk again.’ We made plans to meet at a famous brunch place. They didn’t even serve alcohol, which made everything twice as awkward. We agreed to take it slow. And to just have fun with things. He made it very clear that he wasn’t in a place where he wanted to be a dad. And that remained his official stance for about three months, until he met her. It’s been over two years now. So he’s been there her entire life. They’re obsessed with each other. She constantly wants to talk with him about everything. She wants me to call him when she farts. She wants to be a Wildcat fan because he went to Arizona. And when we find a shell on the beach, she’ll pick it up. But it’s always for him, not me. And he loves that little girl. But that’s not surprising. What’s surprising is that he loves me. Roo is easy to love. She’s so young. She doesn’t withdraw or want space. She doesn’t have scars. She’s never been abandoned. She accepts love without question, and she gives it without question. They love each other so much. So much that it makes me nervous. Sometimes I’ll ask him: ‘Do you just love me because you don’t want to lose her?’ And he’ll say: ‘No. I love her a ton, and I love you a ton.’ He always says it very calmly. Just like a robot.”

“My brother and I were both placed into foster homes at a young...

“My brother and I were both placed into foster homes at a young age. He was lucky—he went to a family called the Ripleys. I went through four different homes in three years, and each one was worse than the next. I’d get to see my brother every few months.  Ms. Ripley would take us for lunch at McDonalds, and that’s when she first noticed the scars all over my body. She immediately made arrangements for me to join their family. Back then the word ‘family’ didn’t mean much to me. But the Ripleys made me feel welcome in their home. Whenever I did something wrong, Ms. Ripley would sit me down and explain why it wasn’t OK. But then she’d say: ‘You’re not going anywhere. Because you belong to us now.’ Shortly after I joined the family, Mr. Ripley was diagnosed with cancer. And later that year he passed away. Ms. Ripley’s entire world fell apart. They’d been high school sweethearts. And now she was alone with two foster kids. Nobody would have blamed her for taking us back. But instead she took us to court and made it permanent. The three of us moved into a single wide trailer in Mississippi, and that’s where she raised us. She worked whatever odd jobs she could find.  We never had much, but we went to movies. We had family game nights. She kept us busy with little league and Boy Scouts. She must have been super stressed, but that’s not at all what I remember. I just remember the affirmation that she gave me. It was always: ‘You’re smart.’ And ‘You’re handsome.’ And ‘You survived all that stuff because you’re strong.’ She cried when I joined the Marines, but she knew it was my best chance for a college education. And eventually I graduated from law school. Last year I had a daughter of my own. And that really put me into an emotional tailspin. Because I realized how every little choice I make is going to affect her future. And then I started thinking about how different my life could have been. Because my early development had been the opposite of what a child’s should be. I should be broken, but I’m not. Because thirty years ago my Mom decided to keep me. And somehow, despite all her sadness and heartbreak, she poured enough love into me so that I could heal.”