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Different Priorities

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Sep 15, 2001

My mom came up to me with a proposal, to write a “Mother- Daughter article for this site. Hey the pay is good I guess, more than I get for babysitting. So, I accepted. But I just could not think of anything to write. Nothing really seemed to stick out in my head until I looked up from my comfy seat on my bed to see my cheerleading uniforms. It got me to thinking my mom and I can not be anymore different. The “Gamble’s” did not come from a rich family; they did not even come from a middle class family. My mom grew up all over the world, living in Michigan, Louisiana, Texas and even a few months in England. Her Dad was a boat captain who drank way to much alcohol. From what I understand her stepmother could fit the mold of any fairy tale stepmother character. By today’s standards they were pretty poor, like living in a two-bedroom trailer with six kids poor.

She had my brother, Josh at the age of sixteen. She married my dad in her early twenties and had me at the age of twenty-five. That marriage didn’t last but five years (that’s another story). Some time later she met and married my step-dad etc. etc… That brings us to now. Me sitting here on my bed, 10:30 at night starring at my uniform and mom just came in to tell me to “get to bed’.

Anyway, My mom is so very shy, and she passed that trait on to my brother, Josh and me. (“Thanks Mom“) Thankfully I got the least of it and I have been on a quest to overcome my shyness. Imagine me a cheerleader the first ever from that side of the family, I believe.

I hang with the ‘in crowd’. I wear ‘the cloths’. I even went blonde. I am a….drum roll, please…. Tall, blonde teenage cheerleader and I feel like I do not belong here at all. I do not feel like I deserve these Nikes *trademark or this cheerleading skirt. This isn’t me. I do not belong with all these perfect girls, with their perfect hair and bright white smiles. I was never popular; boys never smiled my way. I am not supposed to be here. I am not (by any standards) rich, pretty or even a little outgoing. You are probably wondering where I am going with all this. The thing is I wanted it and I went for it. I wanted to be a cheerleader. I like being blonde and wearing make-up. I was not happy being the lonely girl in the back of the room with her face in a book.

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