This is my life written in a fictional version (to protect the guilty!) My author avatar, Shelly, helps readers to understand a challenging childhood and early years growing up in rural Ohio, then follows the adventures of how her first (and very short) marriage happened. There is an angel-guided recovery from addiction, then the action of cutting ties and running away...to Florida.
Life in Florida is non-stop from Shelly's roommate/lover stealing the car, a boss who gives her his business (along with all of the problems that go along with it), the FBI seizing assets, learning her lover is a jewel thief and how she was forced to grow up without anyone's guidance, other than those powerful angels. It outlines a slow spiritual awakening and yet another marriage and divorce, only to have Shelly end up living in the Florida Keys. It's a tale of teaching and adventures.
This is my life written in a fictional version (to protect the guilty!) My author avatar, Shelly, helps readers to understand a challenging childhood and early years growing up in rural Ohio, then follows the adventures of how her first (and very short) marriage happened. There is an angel-guided recovery from addiction, then the action of cutting ties and running away...to Florida.
Life in Florida is non-stop from Shelly's roommate/lover stealing the car, a boss who gives her his business (along with all of the problems that go along with it), the FBI seizing assets, learning her lover is a jewel thief and how she was forced to grow up without anyone's guidance, other than those powerful angels. It outlines a slow spiritual awakening and yet another marriage and divorce, only to have Shelly end up living in the Florida Keys. It's a tale of teaching and adventures.
I was born in late August, 1967. The lifetime I was being born into was to be the most challenging lifetime my soul had ever lived. As you may or may not know, our souls live many lives, both on the Other Side (also known as Heaven) and here, on Earth. We aren’t able to remember these lives most of the time, so each time we’re born it’s like a brand new existence. Our soul’s purpose is to learn specific lessons while we’re here, and of course to do good and kind things to help others. My soul is an old soul. It has lived many lives before. When my soul chose to live the life I was about to begin, it knew it was going to be challenging, but it was necessary because I needed to learn to be independent, patient, and learn how to love myself unconditionally. I would need the help of many guardian angels and spirit guides to make it through the challenges I would be presented, but that is the reason we’re all here, after all.
My parents, Patty and Lou Drezinski, were sure I was going to be a boy as soon as my mom started to show. The two factors that led them to believe this were that my mom felt completely different during her pregnancy with me than she had during her pregnancy with my older sister, Tina. She also carried me very low, which was thought to be an indication of a boy back then. From the time they married, my parents dreamed of having a girl and a boy. My older sister Tina was almost four years old when they got pregnant with me, and since they waited seven years after they got married to have Tina, they were nearing the end of my mom’s optimal child-bearing years, as it was believed back then. My parents hoped this pregnancy would produce the son they wanted so badly, because it could be their last chance.
My family’s house was built from a kit that was purchased from the Sears catalog in the 1950’s in Twinsburg, Ohio. Twinsburg is a small suburb located halfway between Cleveland and Akron, Ohio. My parents had a close-knit network of family and friends who lived nearby, and everyone was looking forward to my birth…the birth of Patty & Lou’s son. My future nursery was painted light blue and my sister’s pink crib had been painted red in preparation for my arrival.
My mom’s belly was low and large in the last month we spent together as one. She was very uncomfortable and irritable, which is probably why a lot of things went awry with my arrival.
It was early on a Wednesday morning when my mom was awakened by the pains of labor. Thank goodness my dad, who worked the midnight shift, just happened to be home when it happened. He loaded us into the family Impala and we began our trek to Bedford Hospital, about thirty minutes away.
Although my mom’s labor pains were pretty severe, we made it to the hospital in plenty of time. She was given pain medicine upon her arrival, but unfortunately her body didn’t process pain medicine very well. My mom’s labor went on for fourteen hours before I finally arrived. By that time, the numerous doses of pain medicine had really scrambled her brain.
On August 30, 1967 at seven twenty p.m., my mom’s lengthy and intensive labor that was only moderately dulled by pain medicine resulted in the birth of me, her second daughter. When my mom was told by the doctor that I was a girl, she thought the doctor was kidding. She actually told her physician, Dr. Nancy, to stop playing around and let her see her son. Dr. Nancy was a bit concerned for my mom’s insistence on seeing her son, and her concern would become justified.
When my dad (who had been waiting in the hallway with the aunts, uncles and grandparents I would soon meet) learned I was a daughter, his smile faded for a moment. He looked down at his shirt pocket that contained the “It’s a Boy” cigars and removed the hand that had been there waiting to pull one out as he processed this unexpected information. He then looked up at the nurse as if she were kidding, but soon realized that she wasn’t. The aunts, uncles and grandparents were excited because I was a healthy baby and didn’t care beyond that. Shortly afterward, my dad was invited to see me for the first time. Although I don’t remember meeting my parents for the first time, I do know that I really put a wrench in their plans.
My parents had been tossing around boys’ names for months, so having to come up with a girl’s name on demand presented a challenge. Remember, my mom had been given a few rounds of pain medicine as she endured fourteen hours of labor, and my dad had spent his time pacing in a hallway, as dads did back then. Eventually my mom, in her painkiller-induced state, came up with Michelle (that is my older sister’s middle name) Antoinette. Antoinette was my great grandmother’s name, but when the nurse asked my mom how to spell it, A-N-N-E-T-E came out, so I became Michelle Annete Drezinski.
I would be called Shelly for short, and this name would end up giving my sister Tina a lot of ammunition in the battle that would become our relationship.
This fictionalized memoir, told through the eyes of Shelly, is a rollercoaster of emotions, challenges, and growth. By blending personal experiences with creative storytelling, the author offers a raw and unfiltered glimpse into a life shaped by hardship, resilience, and self-discovery. From the quiet struggles of a challenging childhood in rural Ohio to the chaotic twists of adulthood in Florida, the narrative is packed with drama, heartbreak, and unexpected turns.
The strength of the story lies in its honesty and emotional depth. Shelly's journey through addiction recovery, tumultuous relationships, and spiritual awakening is compelling and relatable for readers who have faced their own struggles. The inclusion of angelic guidance adds a unique, spiritual element that sets this memoir apart, giving readers a sense of hope amidst the chaos.
However, the story's rapid succession of dramatic events—from stolen cars to FBI asset seizures—may feel overwhelming at times. While these moments certainly add excitement, they risk overshadowing the emotional nuances of Shelly’s growth. Additionally, the focus on external events might leave some readers wishing for more introspection or exploration of Shelly's inner transformation. Though it is understandable that guilt tripping plays a role here, I still think that blurring the thin line that separates fiction from non-fiction doesn't fully help the readers sympathize with the writer's point of view and circumstance.
Personally, I found the mix of gritty realism and spiritual undertones intriguing. The portrayal of life’s unpredictability is both chaotic and inspiring, reflecting the author’s ability to rise above difficult circumstances. However, the narrative would benefit from a more balanced pacing, allowing readers to fully process and connect with each stage of Shelly’s journey.
In conclusion, this fictionalized memoir offers a captivating and dramatic account of a life lived on the edge. While it might feel overwhelming at times, its themes of resilience, spiritual awakening, and self-reliance make it a meaningful read for those seeking stories of triumph over adversity.