Lordy, I don't even know where to start. I suppose I'll start where all the cheesy novels do; the beginning.
I joined Deviantart late May of 2012- just three weeks post graduating my 8th grade year at a little tiny Catholic school that I'd gone to for all 10 years of schooling. I was barely 5' tall, my hair was long and all one layer, brown, and curly, and I still thought I looked good in neon colors and capri pants. I was feeling a little down that summer, but I didn't think much of it. I'd ridden an actual, living, breathing horse a grand total of five short times (the time at the county fair when I was 8 didn't count), and I was excited to start high school.
Now, I'm 5'2" (big improvement, I know), and my hair is short, layered, and various shades of blue. I wear lots of fandom t-shirts and jeans, and I don't own a single pair of capri pants.
The down feeling didn't go away later that year; it got worse. Freshman year was much more difficult of a transition than I'd anticipated. I didn't know who I was, I was in a new, enormous school with more classrooms than the entire population of my old one, and I was very much alone. This world was the opposite end of the spectrum from what I'd known for 13 years, and it was difficult to understand that not everyone worked the way I did. I slid past on c's and b's, and was stuck in a rut as far as my riding career went.
Sophomore year didn't fare much better. I struggled with what I would later learn was depression, but at the time I was too stubborn to get help when I didn't feel I needed it. I was convinced this was something I could get over, and that I was just tired. Every good day made me forget about all the bad ones, and I'd be back at square one putting up with what I was convinced was a phase. I knew what I wanted to do after high school (truthfully, I've known what I wanted to do with my life since I was five), but I had no real path to get there. I was still lost in myself, unsure of who I really was and what I really wanted. I was really active on DA and RPing sites, trying to find out through characters what mine was.
At the beginning of Junior year, I had lost hope. The future was looking bleak, I was uncomfortable in and hated my own skin and what was on it, and the "I'm 15 and realizing that people are assholes and the world is a shitty place" really blindsided me, and it hit hard. There was little beauty in anything, I no longer had fun dancing ballet as I had for years, and I isolated myself, partly to make my guilt lesser when I had finally had enough.
But the good Lord must have been holding out on me, because on the second day of school, I met a girl who would become my anchor and aid in ultimately saving my life (let's call her Aveline). I introduced her to my other good friend and we were looking good. I hadn't ridden seriously in some time, but I picked up a working student job at a nearby hunter-jumper barn (which turned out to be a terrible exchange, albeit a learning experience). When that fell through, I found a lease in a lot near my home that had been there forever (but that's a long story). Stories, writing, became the most important thing in my life, and what I didn't feel I was in reality, I could be in the pixels of a Word document with characters that loved me when others couldn't.
About a month into school, a friend of my long-time friend (who's pretty much my soul mate but in a friend way u feel me) transferred into my favorite class; biotechnology. Her name was Chrissy and she would join Aveline in saving my sorry booty. She was a little awkward like I was, but she was strong, and she didn't take nobody's shit. She was confident, she wore what she wanted and said what she wanted, and for a doormat like me who had little opinion for much of anything, it was like I had seen the prophet Moses. She (along with the two others in my little Molly-saving team of superheroes) and the stories I wrote helped shed light on who I really was, recognize my depression and harmful form of self-medication and get help for it, and to begin moving my into a different mindset. Losing touch and friendship with a good friend at the end of the year helped me accept a number of things, all of which have made me a better person in myself.
My point is, these three years have exhibited more change than I thought possible. I went from lost and unsure to hatred to suicidal to "I'm a pretty okay person" to "I'm fucking awesome and I'm gonna do this thing and no one can stop me 2 fab 4 u". Chrissy turned into Kris and he's still my spirit animal. My childhood dream turned into a goal, and one that I will never let go. My coping method with a reality that became painfully harsh changed from drawing blood to expression through the written word, allowing my proficiency for English and love of language to flourish. I can wear t-shirts again without feeling ashamed of my arms. It took me a while, but I came to learn that scars don't form on the dying, and that I'd be okay.
Two people who were once strangers have since become my family, and one I almost let go has once again become the closest friend I have, and there are no words to express how much I love them. I understand myself -not completely, though I doubt that's possible- a hell of a lot more than I did before, and every day sheds light on something new. I came back from a family visit a couple weeks ago with a hundred selfies and pictures of the gorgeous Malibu beaches. Yesterday, very proudly sporting Bahamas-ocean-colored hair, I took my senior photos, with a real smile. I feel beautiful again.
It is with that that I need to let go. I have to admit, however, that I'm abysmal ago goodbyes, so this won't be one. This is a hiatus (hopefully not as long as the Sherlock ones) while I apply to college and get the rest of my life underway. I want to thank especially
for being my lovely twin and reassuring me that I can, in fact, still make friends <3, and 
, who told me "if ya stick it out and keep that want alive, you'll have your farm somewhere neath stars untainted by the glow of city lights." I have not forgotten, and I doubt I ever will. I'll keep the account open and keep drawing, but most of it probably won't make it to my gallery. Maybe I'll come back, one day, to be active. But until then, to whomever reads this, thank you for entertaining me, inspiring me, teaching me, encouraging me, and being with me, in whatever way, through these three years of on-again off-again activity, soul-searching and character development and learning how to live.
I love you all. <3
Until next time,
-Molly
