I am fairly headstrong. When I want something, I learned to just go for it. Growing up, I learned to be quiet, but then found out, that's not the best way to get what you wanted. I've been on my own since I was 16, so I learned how to take care of myself pretty well over the years. I'm not scared of a lot of things, so that does help. As long as my fears stay away, where they should be, I love living my life. I have a weakness for being out in nature and watching sunsets, so if I'm not working, I'm usually outside doing something. Hardworker, quick learner, and determined are the best traits I've heard being described about me from the few people I've learned to trust. However, I can be a little standoffish and quiet, especially when it comes to new faces. It's not that I'm rude, it's just that I don't trust very easily. I like routine to a point, but that's only when I'm working and on the clock. When I'm off the clock, routines don't stand a chance and I tend to work on my own schedule.

I was born to a drunk and abusive father and a mother that was made for him in Cedar Hill, Missouri. My childhood wasn't great. My father would beat my mother for whatever reason he deemed necessary at the time. It could be because of her not having dinner ready at the exact time he wanted it ready or because she supposedly made a comment that he didn't like. I was safe from those beatings until I turned two. That's the first time he laid a hand on me. I ended up falling and skinning my knee which made me cry out. He didn't like it, so he backhanded me. My mother didn't really care, or at least she didn't do anything to stop him or protect me from it. All she did was tell me, "You'll learn to stay quiet eventually." Mother of the year award right there, am I right?

When I finally was old enough to go to school, it was my happy place. I absolutely loved school. Everyone there was always nice to me and I was nice to them. I didn't bother showing how much I loved it to my parents. By then, I just kept quiet at home so I wouldn't get a backhand from my father. Of course, that wasn't a foolproof way of not getting hit. Sometimes, he would hit me just because I came into his presence and he was angry for whatever reason, usually while drunk. He was always drunk.

I got really good at applying make up by the time I was just 10 years old. It was the only way to hide bruises and black eyes on my face. I could use clothes to hide bruises elsewhere on my body at least. School was still my happy place though. I had dreams of leaving home as soon as I could and never looking back. I figured doing the best I could in school would be the easiest way to do just that. I had my plan in my head and I would do everything I could to make sure I was moving towards my goal.

That was until my father beat me so bad, that even make up wouldn't be able to cover it. I had a busted lip and a broken nose from that beating. The beating came from him telling me that he was basically selling me to the highest bidder, a middle aged drunk that he knew from somewhere. I was supposed to marry him and keep my mouth shut about it. I told him the one word that could set him off worse than anything else: No. I was just 16 years old. When he finally passed out and, my mother right there with him, I ran for it. I packed a bag with whatever clothes I could fit in it, stole every dollar my dad had in his wallet, and ran away, never looking back.

After the adrenaline wore off, I probably slept for 12 hours straight. The place I found to hide was a good one though. No one found me there in the alley behind a dumpster and under some cardboard. That was where I stayed though, looking over my shoulder when I went to find something to eat. My face healed, thankfully, enough where even if I showed my face, it didn't look bad. I knew in order to survive though, I was going to have to get a job, but I couldn't work anywhere near the podunk town I had lived in. So, decided to hitchhike. I found my way into Tucson, Arizona, where I felt like it was far enough away. By that time, I had no money left anyway, so I looked for a job right away, getting one as a waitress in a small diner. It wasn't much, but it would pay for food at least. To also help protect my parents finding me, I went by Amelia Wildman, ridding myself of my actual last name of Paulsey.

My favorite customers were the Sons of Anarchy that were out of Tucson. They were always the nicest and tipped better than anyone else that came in. Then again, they gave a lot of business to the diner too, probably the most business. The day before I turned 18, I saw a flyer for young girls being needed for modeling gigs. I figured it wouldn't hurt to try. I had been in Tucson for almost two years at that point and I really didn't have anything holding me there. I showed up and ended up getting the job and I ended up quitting my waitressing job soon after when I got the pay from my first photoshoot.

I stuck around Tucson, though, doing local photoshoots and managed to actually finally rent something nicer than the rundown apartment that I had been renting. I was able to pay for food that didn't look like leftovers and I ate at the diner twice a week like clockwork. I was starting to really relax in Tucson, and I couldn't believe that things were looking up for a change.

I started to save money as well, trying to make sure that I had something to fall back on, just in case I had to run again. Years passed and I saw an ad for a modeling gig that paid more than any other gig I've ever seen. I still had my looks, even in my mid-30s, thankfully, so I wasn't struggling to book gigs. But I was starting to think I needed a good adventure. I auditioned for the gig. It was for bikini models. I had modeled them before, so it wasn't out of the ordinary for me. I was surprised when I got it though. I was one of a few girls, and I packed, knowing the gig was to travel to California.

So that's where I'm at now. The girls and I are traveling to California. Not just any place in California, but a tiny town in California named Washington. It's supposed to have this amazing river going right through town and we have a historic hotel booked to stay at. I already miss Tucson, but I'm enjoying the ride at least.