I was a 17 year old senior in high school when I became pregnant. Yep, I’m a statistic. I knew I would be a single parent from the start. My much older and then boyfriend Zach got me pregnant in a failed attempt to get me to marry him. He was 11 years older, married (but separated), and had children… All of which was hidden from me. Once I understood that he could get into some serious trouble, I felt the need to protect him (for whatever reason). I don’t remember how it ended, just that I stopped talking to him and he never tried talking to me until my son was over a year old. He never truly wants to be involved, so I’m not sure why he even comes around. Though this only happens every 6 months or so, it scares the crap out of me. Zach is not the type of person I want my son around. Yes, I should have thought about that before hand, but I was young and dumb. Zach is an addict with mental issues that he refuses to manage properly. He was also physically and mentally abusive. He had this control over me that I will never be able to fully understand. I will not allow someone like that to be around Colin. Period. I feel guilty that Colin doesn’t have a “dad” but I truly believe he is better off without him. I don’t think I’m being selfish or mean or anything. I think I’m doing what is best. Zach is not involved personally or financially, which can be very very hard. I never was one to want to party, (a little anti-social) so I had no “struggle to give up my youth” like some young parents. I am in my early twenties with a kindergartener, my own home, and a very stable job. Did things go according to plan? Of course not, but I wouldn’t change anything and for the most part, my life is pretty damn amazing.