📦 Packing Up, Starting Over

The summer before freshman year, I packed everything I owned into boxes—my journals, my band tees, my lingering insecurities—and moved to Charlotte. My parents had finally separated (a long time coming), and honestly? I was relieved. After being bullied relentlessly through middle school, I was desperate for a fresh start.

New town. New school. New me.
Except… I still looked like a Hot Topic clearance rack. And I wasn’t mad about it.

🎭 Theatre, But Make It Alt

I was that girl—the goth/alt theatre nerd who smelled vaguely of hair dye and eyeliner. I cycled through phases: diet goth, punk, then diet goth again like a moody little fashion boomerang.

“Diet goth” because, let’s be honest—I wore blue skinny jeans half the time, but everything else was black. Black tops, black eyeliner, black jewelry, black boots. Full goth heart, casual denim ankles.

Theatre was my cathedral. The art wing, my sanctuary. When I wasn’t sketching or scribbling, I was backstage, directing scrappy little productions or taking any role that gave me permission to be loud. Until senior year, when I traded the spotlight for yearbook—running the show like an editorial goblin queen. 👑

🎶 Choir, Cabaret, and the Evanescence Incident

I took Choir freshman year—an alto lured in by the promise of harmony, camaraderie, and maybe a solo. But my creative fire was spread thin. After that year, I bowed out to chase art and theatre instead.

Not before Cabaret, though. My friend and I auditioned with “Missing” by Evanescence (because of course we did). Emo? Check. Dramatic? Double check. Perfect song—until she blasted the backing track so loud, you could barely hear my timid little voice. We got cut. Brutal. But iconic.

Shoutout to Amy Lee for carrying my teenage soul like the goth fairy godmother she is. 🖤

🚗 Ollie, My Red Chariot

At 16, my Grams gifted me Ollie—a red Volkswagen Beetle convertible. Suddenly, the whole state of Michigan was mine.

The first concert I ever drove to? An acoustic Haiti benefit with Travis and Hunter from We The Kings. I still remember pulling up to Taylor’s house, sunglasses on, smirking:
“Get in, bitch. We’re going to a concert.”

Ollie became my therapy. My freedom. My concert chariot.

📚 Classes, Crushes, and Chaos

English was my jam. I titled my 10th grade research paper on miscarriage, abortion, and teenage pregnancy “Curiosity Killed the Rabbit.” Dark? Yes. Too much? Maybe. On brand? Absolutely. 🐇

Crushes? Everywhere. Coworkers. A yearbook guy. A Swedish exchange student. And, of course, Nick Jonas. (Look, we all had our era. Don’t judge me.)

I also created a final drama project that was basically a fanfic fever dream mashup of Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan, and Powerpuff Girls. Weird. Chaotic. Art.

🍿 Movie Theatre Royalty

Outside school, I was the Eaton Theatre girl. People came to me for showtimes, midnight premiere scoop, and whether we were doing cosplay nights. And oh, those midnight shows—where strangers became friends and eyeliner ran from laughing too hard.

It was The Breakfast Club, but at midnight. With buttered fingers and smudged eyeliner wings. Pure magic.

🎀 Spirit Week, Snow Ball, and Beauty Scars

Prom? Never went.
My first prom dress got taken to Burger King with one of my best friends.
The next year, I wore a different beautiful prom dress… to a concert with my sister.
Peak alt girl behavior.

I only ever went to Snow Ball. One year I worked coat check for Art Club. The others, I was behind the scenes setting up the yearbook photo booth and avoiding the dance floor entirely.

Spirit Week, though? I lived for it.

And like many girls growing up in a world that taught us to hate our bodies—I was deeply self-conscious. I wore a waist trainer and girdle through most of high school, trying to hide what I thought was “too much.” It was painful. Literally. I still have scars from the metal hooks digging into my skin. But it shaped me—physically, yes, but emotionally too. Those scars carry a lot.

🖤 Other Random Highlights from My Alt Era

• Met Taylor in Algebra I. I sat behind Mason—full-blown goth with ICP-style makeup and fiery red hair. Taylor’s first words to us: “You two should date.” We didn’t. But years later, Mason offered to “put a baby in me” when my ex-husband wouldn’t. 🤷‍♀️ He meant well. I think.
• A kid in ceramics class started making bongs in the kiln. Pretty sure he still sells them. Small business legend.
• I was a freshman mentor junior year, which got me a front row parking spot but my mentee never showed up.
• I got invited to be a camera operator for MHSAA, but turned it down to work with Dan Phillips Media instead. Still proud of that choice.

🎤 Final Bell

High school was messy, magical, awkward, emotional, loud, and completely unforgettable. It was eyeliner and concerts and skinny jeans and scream-singing lyrics out the car window. It was skipping math class but never art. It was heartbreak, best friends, and getting through the chaos one photo booth setup at a time.

And yeah… I miss it.

I miss Ollie.
I miss my friends.
I miss midnight showings.
I miss spirit week and the drama kids.
I miss being that slightly mysterious, always sarcastic, eyeliner-wearing, band-tee-collecting goth girl with too many opinions and not enough patience.

She’s still in there.
And every time the right song comes on…
She’s ready to take the wheel. 💋