I Didn't Mean To

Who? Me?

    Who am I?  Isn't that the question we all ask?  Ok, setting aside philosophy, I guess this is my story, so I can be anyone I really want to be.  Hmmm....  I'll try to be as honest as I can, and tell the whole story, but you'll have to bear with me, there's a lot to tell!  I'm an "agri-scientist", or at least that's what my Mom always called it.  Others tell me I'm a witch, or a druid, a natural drug dealer, or a telepath, depending on their particular bias.  Those that don't know me well assume I'm bad, evil or just a con artist, but I'm just a young woman doing her best to be a good person.

    That doesn't mean I've never done anything wrong.  I know I've made choices that hurt others.  I've made decisions that haunt me every night but I've tried to always do my best to help others.  

    Where do I start?  I divide my life up into BTN (Before THAT Night) and ATN (After THAT Night).  While my life changed significantly one fall evening when I was 17, it's what I was before then that influences who I am today.  I grew up suddenly in a space of about 4 hours, and lost my childhood very quickly.  

    I grew up on a backwoods farm, "off the grid" is what they call it now.  My parents were independent people, and we had no internet, no neighbours, no power, and no contact with the world at large.  My Dad told me I was a genius, but I had nobody to compare to, so I don't know if that was true, or just his belief in his daughter.  I was home schooled, and I did have a strong affinity for sciences, especially chemistry and biology.  Both my parents had multiple degrees from big city Universities, but they often commented on how their education was a waste of time and effort.  Dad had studied Psychology and Bio Mechanics, while my Mom studied Ecology and Engineering.  Then they threw it all away to raise me away from society, people, and outside influences.

    If I'm a genius, I don't know why decisions are so hard for me.  I see the black & white answers, but I also see all the shades between.  I understand why my parents did what they did, and I accept that some of their decisions were wrong in the eyes of the world, but they always said it was for my benefit.  Bruises and slaps were dished out in the same ratio as hugs and praise, but I know now that I must forgive them their errors.  

    If home was tough, I always had the forest.  Or maybe I should called her Forest.  Yes, I believe Forest was my friend.  Her trees talked to me, sighing when the breeze ruffled their leaves, singing when they enjoyed a strong wind.  Their shade hid me from danger, and their branches protected me.  My life grew strong roots in the ground at Forest's feet, and her strength nurtured me.  Forest enveloped me in her green embrace when I cried, when I was lonely, when I was hurt.  And she opened the sky to me when I needed to see the world beyond my small home.