one heartache

This is the story of my first boyfriend. Before you walk away, exasperated - wait. This isn’t just any story. This is my story.

I grew up in an extremely isolated and sheltered environment. Not only was I homeschooled (and only socialized with a handful of kids in my tiny hometown), but we didn't go to any church regularly, which could have been a social opportunity. We went to many different churches sporadically, none for very long. My mother would eventually discover something they were doing that she disagreed with, and we would stop going. I learned at a very early age not to get attached to (or become close friends with) the kids I met at these churches, because I never knew if we would go back.

I was never truly outside of my home environment. The summer after I turned seventeen, I got a job at a “big box” store in Kearney, Nebraska (This fact – this town – is true. All other names in my story have been changed to protect bystanders). I had my license for a few months, and it was a nice forty mile drive one way. I started driving our family's only mode of transportation – an ever so stylish Oldsmobile Silhouette minivan. I enjoyed a freedom I had never experienced before. It was absolutely liberating. We were not allowed to listen to “secular” music – only the local Christian radio station. And I remember deliberately setting the radio station in the van to the local pop station, and leave the volume up when I turned off the car. My dad would get so mad when he turned the key. It was just a little rebellion.

I started working as a cashier sometime in May. Of course, I noticed a boy. His name was Ben. He was nineteen, he smoked cigarettes, had more than one tattoo, and was a general all-around badass. At least to me. Of course, the situation being years behind me now, I do see it a little differently. He drank, he smoked weed, and he had a cool car (a ’70-something Maverick.) His perceived maturity was very attractive. Everything a young girl is looking for, right? In reality, I was a very innocent girl, with no exposure to the real world. I hadn't been given the opportunity to learn wisdom.

Sometime in early June, after we had spent some time together on our breaks and had had several conversations, he asked me to be his girl. We were standing in the hall near the lockers. I don't think we were sharing a locker at that point. (Being homeschooled, it was my first locker. And I remember being pretty thrilled about it at the time.) I said yes. It wasn't an option for me to say no.

No boy had ever asked me to be his girl. I was not about to close the door on that. Part of me knew he was bad news. I know even at that time I didn’t see a serious future with him. But I was not saying no. I did not want to miss out on that experience. So I was not about to miss the opportunity to see where it went. Not saying yes wasn't even an option for me.

I realize this sounds a bit ridiculous from an adult standpoint. You have to understand though, in my world, boys were taboo. I think that’s why they were mysterious and fascinating to me. But I was not allowed to talk to them. If I was caught even looking at a random boy, my whole family would say he was immediately my “boyfriend” and/or we were getting married. It was a group event – my siblings egged on and encouraged by my mother. It was a completely ludicrous form of reverse shaming.

Well, when I said yes to him, he leaned over (he was so much taller than me) and kissed me on my cheek. I remember his stubble grating against my face. It was my first kiss. And I liked it.

Now the problem: I was not allowed to have a boyfriend. Period. I had barely been allowed to get the job. I considered my life: I was driving our only vehicle, to a city forty miles away, and I was gone over 40 hours a week. There was no way they would find out. So I just didn't tell anyone. Our coworkers knew we were a couple, but that didn't really matter. We were normal to them.

We spent time together as we could. Sometimes, he'd come to work early to see me. And I started lying to my parents about my work schedule, so I could drive in early to see him.

We only went on one actual real date. We went to a Dairy Queen, and shared a frozen lemonade. I took him to a Bible study on a Wednesday night, and afterwards, the people from the church I was attending at the time, prayed for him. I took him to church with me one or two times also. It was the same church that my family had been going to, so I’m not sure why I would have done so. But I think I told them he was one of my coworkers, and then gave him strict instructions not to touch me affectionately.

He worked as a house painter after he got fired. I started driving to his house on my lunch break. I only got one hour, so I would speed all the way from the North side of Kearney to the South side, past the library a couple blocks, and a quick right turn, and then a few blocks West. It was stressful. I’ve always been very punctual, and this time in my life was no exception. I recorded in my journal how late I was in returning from my lunches. Most of the time it wasn’t more than a few minutes, but I still hated it. One time I actually tapped the bumper of the car in front of me at the very last stoplight before his house. Thank goodness they did not stop or I would have been busted.

The only thing we really ever did was just hang out in his room. On my lunch break, I'd usually bring him food and a Mountain Dew, or these peach-flavored drinks we both loved. I know he might have been high some of the time. I don't think I was fully aware of this back then. I was extremely naïve for being seventeen. (Thanks to the homeschooling and isolation.) I'm sure he offered it, but I never accepted. His best friend Alex was there sometimes. I liked Alex. They would tease me about not doing smoking or drinking, but I never did. For me it wasn’t that hard to say no; I’ve apparently always been interested in having total control of my faculties. They both wore horrible ugly bucket hats. I was really into Tweety Bird at the time and Ben gave me a Tweety Bird bucket hat. It’s so hideous, but I think I still have it.

He lived with his sweet white-haired Grandma. He had a room upstairs, which connected to a tiny kitchen nearby. She was always a sweetheart to me. I remember one afternoon, he was sitting in a soft blue recliner in his grandma’s living room and I was sitting on his lap. He was so bony, there was plenty of room. We were talking to her about when we were getting married. He wanted to get married on Halloween. I don’t remember having any objections to this, so the plan was set – marriage on Halloween. (At that point, we had been dating for maybe a month.) I also met his sister and his mom, and his dad. His Grandma was in the hospital one time, and we went to see her. I was there at the hospital in Kearney, visiting his grandma, with his whole family. It’s so surreal when I think about it.

One evening, the three of us took Ben’s car and drove over to his ex-girlfriend's house. She had a baby in a high chair. And her boyfriend was old enough to buy beer. So Alex and her boyfriend left to get some while Ben and I stayed. (I think that’s the only other time I might have gotten caught, if the boyfriend had been busted buying beer for a minor. Because I had left my backpack in his car.) Then the three of us went back to Ben's room and they drank beers while we listened to Kid Rock.

I remember we kissed a lot. He wasn’t a good kisser. But of course I didn’t think that at the time, since he was my first. He always tasted like cigarette smoke, but I wasn't averse to it. We never had sex. He never attempted to have sex with me. Which, of course, was good. And it really wasn't part of the equation for me. I didn’t know anything about sex. Although it kind of makes sense when I found out what happened in his life directly before and after his time with me.

Which brings me to the beginning of the end...

Ben struggled with depression. Even before he was fired, I would spend hours coaxing him through his bad spells, encouraging him as well as I could. He threatened suicide more than once. I did what I could with my very limited knowledge. He never told me all of him. All of his stories. We were together for roughly two months, and most of those moments were stolen when I could take my lunch or go to his house after work.

All this time, I was still keeping up the facade at home. My family knew nothing about him, except that he was my coworker. One time, our whole family went to the store. I remember telling him that he had to “act natural” or something similar; it worked and they didn’t know that he and I were anything more than friends.

One night, he was very depressed. He was being very dramatic, and climbed up onto his Grandma's roof. In retrospect, don't think he was ever going to jump. But you have to understand: I was a very naive little girl. I was seventeen, but I may as well have been twelve. I had no experience with anything like this, and I took it completely at face value. My isolated life had left me no examples or experiences to deal with his manipulative behavior. I had never been exposed to anyone so unlike myself. I stayed. I stayed for hours. I talked to him. And eventually he climbed down. I finally left. It was very late.

I arrived home sometime after midnight, to discover that my mom had called the police and my dad had gone out in his truck to look for me on the highway. (Remember, this was the grand year of 2000. The common use of cell phones was only right around the corner.) They had called my job and discovered the truth. I was busted. But I didn't talk. I told them I had to make one phone call and then I would talk. I called him the next day and asked him to come to my parent's house.

He couldn't come that day, only the following day. Like a loser. So I spent the day in silence.

In the early afternoon of a warm Sunday in early August, his car rolled up. I was sitting on the front porch, waiting. I ran out to him, and leaned into the car. We shared a quick peck of a kiss, and then walked into my parents’ house, holding hands.

I said, "This is my boyfriend, Ben."  

As soon as my mother saw us walking in together, our hands intertwined, she violently hit our hands apart, growling viciously, "Get your hands off my daughter!”

They made us sit on different couches, and grilled us about almost everything. I say almost everything because I know they never asked if we had sex. You would think that would be the first thing you ask.

I don't remember much from those moments or the aftermath. They are swallowed up in my grief.

At the end of the conversation, Ben was forbidden to contact me until I turned eighteen. As I walked him to his car, we managed to sneak a quick, heartbreaking kiss, and he was gone. 

I remember sitting on the swing on the front porch, hot, burning tears of silent anguish running down my face and neck. He had brought me a giant stuffed alien he won at the county fair. I gripped it tightly to my chest like it was a life vest. I had never been so devastated. People talk about closure. They talk about how important it is. It is, especially when you don't have any control of what's ripped out of your life. It takes a very long time to recover.

The following day, my dad went to my job and told my boss that he would not see me again.

~ Epilogue ~

Repercussions continued for months. I was not allowed to go anywhere (even to the mailbox, which was only half a block away) without one of my siblings with me. I was in an invisible prison. I fell into a deep depression. I started drinking Mountain Dew. A lot. Some days, I would drink an entire twelve-pack in a day. It was the only "drug" I could get my hands on. It numbed me. It was a very bad time in my life.

Over the next few months, got over him, slowly, painfully. He called a few times, but I was never allowed to talk to him. My dad talked to him. I started going to a different church; joined the youth group, the drama team, and I made some new friends.

I found out he had been in jail before we started dating, for statutory rape. When my eighteenth birthday rolled around, he was again in jail for a second statutory rape charge. Because my mother was afraid he would come after me, she shipped me off to a Bible college in Ohio. I think she had an image of him built up in her mind that was far from the truth. I was never afraid of him.

I saw Ben once after my parents split us up. Our family was stopped at a gas station in Kearney, and he was there. My dad and my brothers talked to him like they were old friends. I wasn’t allowed to get out of the van. I never saw him again.

beautiful desolation

I lived in Nebraska my first eighteen years. At the time, with the misguided mind of my youth, I didn't appreciate it as much as I should have.

I was so focused on getting out. I was too young to know that I needed to appreciate the moments I had. Now, my visits home are so few and far between that it breaks my heart. I look back to that time in my life with a certain sense of nostalgia.

When I tell people about my motherland I always describe it as both beautiful and desolate. Part of the beauty is the desolation. The wide open empty spaces. The haunting wind that whistles on the prairie. It lives immortal in the words of Laura Ingalls Wilder and Willa Cather.

We are all works of art, works of beautiful desolation. Beautiful emptiness. We are containers. We fill ourselves up with what we choose. Once we leave home, we have a choice. We can no longer blame our parents for our problems. We are our problem. And we have control.

It took me some time to get over the things I went through in my childhood. Time truly is a healer of many wounds. Seen and unseen. As we grow and mature, we have a choice to let our experiences define us, or we can learn and grow stronger from them.

Now I have a little more wisdom. I realize I wouldn't be the person I am today, if I had not I walked through all of the valleys and the shadows of my childhood and adolescence. And I like who I am. :-)

Sometimes, life doesn't make sense, until you look back, and you see the paths that led you here, and you realize it all made sense, you just didn't know it.

"Abandoned House, Haskell County Kansas"

By Irving Rusinow, April 1941

National Archives and Records Administration, Records of the Bureau of Agricultural Economics

where's that girl?

When you see someone putting on his Big Boots, you can be pretty sure that an Adventure is going to happen. A.A. Milne

There was once a girl who might have accidentally stepped into the freezing cold water of a state lake. Because she stood too close to the edge. Both her own mother, and her siblings, made fun of her. And she did feel a little silly, with her pants freezing to her leg. But what a story!

That girl splashed into the deep, murky water of the Loup River all summer long, despite the water moccasins. She rescued her baby brother from certain death when he was pulled under in strong currents of water.

At ten years old, she was a giant clumsy bull in a tiny little shop in Mexico, and broke a glass figurine. She ran away, embarrassed and mortified.

She followed the boys, racing around town with them, on an ugly old green bike. When the chain fell off and she flew over the handlebars, she lived to tell the tale, with two cracked front teeth, and ugly gravel-rubbed scars on her elbows and knees.

She's the girl who went to concerts late on Sunday nights; arriving at work the next day, utterly exhausted, but completely happy.

Her graduation announcement stated boldly, “On to Adventure!” but somewhere along the way, she got lost in the mundane, in routine. 

She was adventurous and daring, she broke the rules. 

What happened to that girl? Where did she go?

I intend to find her again, tell her to put on her Big Boots, and run jubilantly outside her comfort zone. 

So... skydiving, anyone?! ;)

"that girl"

My Mother, Unabridged

On a recent Sunday afternoon, I was relaxing with my mother (coffee and newspaper nearby) on my balcony. I had a dash of inspiration, grabbed a notepad, and started writing. I started asking her a few questions; as she replied, more popped into my head. This post is the result. This is her, her words, her thoughts. Unabridged. (The italics and bold are my words.)

What advice would you give to your thirty year old self?

Run from Andy, do not marry Andy.

What about your already married self?

Get a divorce, the sooner, the better. In other words, don’t stay in a bad marriage.

When did you realize that you had made a mistake?

The day of the wedding. I didn't feel like there were any other options available. I felt pressured. Even by the Christian pastor there. (I wanted to) wait for my (ex) husband to get back. I wanted to wait, and the pastor said I couldn't because he was defiled by other women. So, I was manipulated all my life.

Is it, even if you know you’re being manipulated? Do you choose to be manipulated?

You always have a choice. You’re not always strong enough to resist manipulation. Maybe if I went back I would be stronger to resist manipulation. Maybe it was my childhood that caused me to be weak and have a bad perspective on men. I still don’t know if I ever met a good one.

Are you saying you've never met a good man?

I've actually met at least one – a friend.

That’s all?

At least one, maybe two.

Do you think maybe your standards are too unreachable, too unattainable?

Standards for a good man?

Yes.

I think that when I first started looking, after the divorce, my standards were extremely high. However, even against the advice of many people currently, I am considering someone who has absolutely no money, who has some bad habits that I don’t like. Clutter is one. But, I’ve never lived with him, so I don’t know. But he keeps all his old clothes and clutter. But I feel the good outweighs the bad. So in other words, my expectations have gone way down.

I wanted to leave the USA so I could get out of the public eye, and here you are doing this.

Guillermo will make you happy?

It’s already made me happy to be with him. Why? Because he didn't mind when I didn't wear makeup and looked horrible. He doesn't mind being with me in public, or showing affection in public. He’s offered to shop and cook for me. He loves to have fun and go out and drink and dance. He likes to party and is willing to learn Latin dance. I should have gotten to know him a little better this last year. His mom doesn't mind me. I don’t know her that well either.

Is Guillermo the great love of your life?

Time will tell. (A long sigh; she stared into the distance.)

What are your favorite hobbies?

Drinking and dancing. Hanging out at the beach.

What advice would you share with the world?

How can I give advice when my life’s such a mess? I have enjoyed my life recently because I've been adventurous and unafraid to experience new places and cultures. I've lived one of my dreams - island living.

Why do you think your life is such a mess?

Because I made bad choices. I can’t blame anybody else. And yet, maybe I can blame God? Because I thought I was following God’s direction at times, and when it seemed like things didn't work out at all. But maybe things will still work out.

I don’t think your life is a mess. Think about all the positive things that have happened.

Well, my last big dream didn't come true yet. Twenty-five years of marriage, eight years single. Wanting to be with a man who loved me, and a man I loved, and it hasn't happened yet, and that’s why it’s a mess.

Do you expect to be magically happy when you find a man?

You can’t expect a man to be your god, and that’s what I've done, very much, and it causes tremendous emotional stress. Even caused me to cut my wrists at one time. Never felt that with your dad, because I never loved him. That was one safe thing about that relationship – I didn't get addicted to him. It’s better to find somebody who loves you more than you love them.

If you never loved him, why did you stay?

I stayed basically for my children. I thought it would help them, but it didn't.

Do you feel regret about that, or resentment?

I don’t feel resentment, and I don’t live in the past, so I don’t feel regret.

Tell me the positive things in your life.

Every time a baby was born, that was a blessing.

Four children.

Four grandchildren.

Living on all the islands; living on Hawaii for ten years, and all the other islands in recent years.

Love from my first husband.

Health, and perfect health through Jesus Christ, for many years, not even colds.

Strength.

Latin music and dancing.

Corn Island, for its beauty and awesome people.

Beaches, everywhere, including the Platte River and Loup River in Nebraska.

Big churches, like World Harvest; worship.

I’ve been able to travel lately, seeing you, shopping.

Four books published.

What are your future plans and goals?

I was thinking this morning that I’m ready to die. (She said this with a genuine smile and I laughed at the absurdity.) I wouldn't mind. I just don’t see that there’s much to live for in this life.

You’re finished?

Not the first time. I thought it recently. I’m done, but God’s not done with me, so I’m still here.

It’s better to go now because I’m not old. I can last a couple more years, if it will work out with Guillermo.

When I leave, I will dance out of the world, or be raptured.

Why did you decide to homeschool your kids?

One, I loved them too much to let them out of my sight. (Must have been part of my love addiction - I didn't want to be separated from you.) Two, I didn't want them to be influenced by the evil world.

Do you feel you were a successful homeschool mother?

I am very happy that all of my children are responsible adults and take care of themselves.

Did you play a part in their success?

I think… I don’t know, did I? I think that partly my daughters are more responsible because they had responsibilities from a young age. I am sorry I did not have more time to give to each child individually because I had four (close together) in a row. However, I do not think that homeschooling hurt any of them.

Do you think that your children were truly educated?

Well, considering one of my daughters graduated high school at sixteen, after studying college-level subjects, and graduated Bible College Magna Cum Laude, I can’t say homeschooling did not educate. And, I have another daughter who is successful in her work, and writes this awesome blog, and reads millions of books, how can it have been a mistake?

My sons have also been successful at early ages at everything they have done.

Another basic thing that makes me happy about my children is that three are in stable marriages.

So, how can homeschooling be wrong?

Your Magna Cum Laude daughter - you'll remember she did all of her studies on her own.

But if she would have been in school, she wouldn't have had the time and opportunity to self-educate.

Do you think your kids are successful in spite of you?

Yes, of course. They would say that too.

Would you do it again?

No, I’d never do it again. I’d never even have children. So, we are alike. I definitely don’t want any now.

At this point, I paused, to tell my mother I’d never change anything about my childhood. The path where her parenting led me, although extremely painful, created me. I don’t want to be anyone else.

Do you have anything else to add about your children’s childhood?

I wish I would have been in a good marriage for them. Because I think it would have made a lot of difference. A lot of difference in the end result - in the relationships I have or don’t have with them now.

She laughs, saying, Do you want a drink? Yeah, I want a drink!

Do you want to talk about Grandma?

I loved her like a child should love a mother. She wasn't perfect, but she was perfect for me. She was my mother, I respected her, honored her, and was very blessed by her life. And I suppose I don’t measure up to her example as a mom.

Do you think you are like her?

In some ways, I am finally like her. Especially since my divorce. I am more optimistic and fun-loving.

Any last words of wisdom, or advice?

My advice is marry your first love at a young age and live happily ever after. And one thing I’ve learned is to stay in the now.

I’ve never been interviewed like that before. You really dug into my life. You’re good.

If you could sum up your life in one sentence, what would it be?

She lived her life.

She emailed me her final thoughts after she returned to Nicaragua: It’s all about Jesus. Connecting to Him. Nothing else matters. This life, no matter how beautiful, fades into grays compared to His love and the beauties of eternity with Him. I thank Him for holding me all these years even when I thought I was completely alone and that no one cared.

August 10th, 2014, Apex, North Carolina

Dane Petersen: Friend, Patriot, Philosopher

I've never met Dane. Not yet anyway. Somehow, in the hazy mazes of Facebook, we collided. He’s from, and went to school, in the small town I was born in: Loup City, Nebraska. Ironically, if I would have gone to public school, we would have seen each other when we were both still in Nebraska.

Dane is the most patriotic person I know. He exudes American patriotism from his very core. He makes it a priority to spend time with those he loves and cares about. He’s there for his family and friends, he knows what is truly important in life. His focus is on people, not things. He knows and understands the true meaning of life. People.

I am challenged daily by him to live my own life more intentionally. I hope you are entertained and inspired by his words.

Don't Stop Believing

Where were you born? Central Nebraska. I think Grand Island. Probably on a riding lawn mower. Something weird probably. Something has to explain the way I am.

What does patriotism mean to you? It is extreme pride and devotion to one's country. To my country. People always joke about how I'm so patriotic. I mean why wouldn't I be? We are so freaking blessed to be in this country. I have lived an extremely cool life. I don't think I'd have that same opportunity anywhere else.

What do you stand for? Your life motto? Wow. That is a good question. I stand for the pursuit of happiness. Life is too short to be miserable. Everyone deserves to be happy. Everyone has the choice to be happy. I work to push people to be happy. I really don't have a life motto. I have words tattooed on me that are lyrics from a rapper that I was a big fan of who passed away. From Eyedea's song Smile, “I’m falling, but no matter how hard I hit the ground, I'll still smile." Those words really hit me hard. No matter what challenge, obstacle, or curveball that life throws at you, you need to keep smiling, keep positive, and push forward. Also, I always say "live loud." Make an impression. Live intensely. No point of living in the shadows. I am Dane Petersen and I want to be remembered.

Sometimes, patriotism and politics have a tendency to be confused and melded with each other. Do you think it’s important for Americans to remember and appreciate the good things in America? And to learn that we are more than our politics? People get so ​​caught up in their beliefs and instead of fighting for what they stand for, they slander what they don't believe in. I like to joke around and say that every political post I have seen on social media influences my belief. Because it never has. I am not a political person. I have my views. I have enough struggles in my own life that I need to focus on, instead of wasting time and energy complaining about Hoppy Lobby, Obamacare, welfare reform, or fear they are going to take our guns. People get so headstrong on hating the people that believe the opposite view and make no efforts in working together to find a best possible solution. People do forget how fortunate we are to be in a country that allows us to argue about these issues. A country that gives us a chance to lobby, campaign, hold debates, question what’s going on, and vote for what we believe. Then, after all that is over, we can go out and get rip shit drunk together and forget about that for a minute... until we get enough in our systems and then we get in drunken political arguments that always end well.

Tell me about your tattoos, and what they symbolize. Every tattoo has pretty significant meaning to me. I just don't get random crap tattooed on me. My first tattoo, which is my favorite is a stencil of the state of Nebraska, with a star over the capital Lincoln, and a heart on my home town, Loup City. Under that is the state slogan "The Good Life," written in some ghetto fab lettering. Because Nebraska is hood... I think... In conjunction with that, I have my high school mascot tattooed on my calf. It is an extremely offensive Native American called the "Red Raider." I am very proud of being from Loup City and I've been able to compete for them in athletics and other competitions growing up. The name changed to the rebels because they consolidated with another school for sports, and for other obvious reasons. It was the first tattoo that this artist did under his apprenticeship. The guy is a friend of mine. I figured no matter how bad he screwed up, it would still be offensive. In my grandparents’ home town, the Danish capital of Nebraska there is a painting of a Danish Viking ship on the side of a building. I had that tattooed on me. On my right arm, I have the letters G.A.T.A. tattooed down along side of a scar. I will get into that one later. I don't feel like explaining myself twice. On the other side, I have Jaster's Feather, which is on the chest plate of Star Wars character Boba Fett. It is the sign of his adopted grandfather Jaster Mereel. Mereel fought for what was right and was known for his strong morals. I am a huge Star Wars fan. The original movies got me through a very tough time in my life when I was young. I already spoke of my lyrics tattooed on me. Oh, I have Jesus playing a Stratocaster on my left tricep.... because my God is a rock star.

Is there a specific childhood experience that had a large impact in shaping who you are today? Ok, get ready for a short novel. Readers: stop right here and move to the next if you would like. January 29, 1994, I was playing dodge ball in PE. I threw a ball. On the extension of my throw, there was a loud popping noise. I was crying like a baby. The teacher and my parents thought I had just pulled a muscle or something... I was in third grade, is that even possible? My dad said to walk it off, I would be ok. It was my arm. What the hell. I stayed in school the rest of the day. The next day I could only made it a half day. Finally, my parents took me to the doctor. When the X-rays came back, there was a big lump my humerus... and a break that was clean all the way across. Kearney was my next stop, to the bone specialist. After looking at the X-rays, the bone specialist gave us two options: a steroid injection, which would take care of my arm if it were a cyst, or a bone graft, which was a much more extensive surgery and would be a much longer road to recovery. My parents chose the steroid injection. Guess what. The lump wasn't a cyst. It was a benign tumor called Fibrous Dysplasia. Several months later, I had the bone graft. During that surgery, a nerve was stretched. I couldn't move anything below my shoulder for a few months... it was weird. Eventually, after 2.5 years of for the most part having some sort of sling or brace on my arm, I was able to fully participate in sports. I never thought that I would have an issue with this again. My senior year of high school, I chose to join the Military. My scores were very solid on the ASVAB. I wanted to fly Apache helicopters. That dream was short lived. At MEPS, they had to take X-rays to make sure it had healed fine. Just before I was to leave for basic, shortly after graduation, I received a letter that Washington decided that there was a slightly increased chance of breaking during basic training. I had been permanently denied from all branches of the armed forces. My arm eventually developed the nickname "Good Ass Tumor Arm." It is weird to think that if this had never happened to me, I would not be in Virginia, I would probably not have been in Lincoln much. I would more than likely only know my Loup City family. At the end of the day, I am thankful for my GATA. So, I got GATA tattooed down the side of the scar from the surgeries. I am thankful for the path my life has taken. . I am sure that this has been painful to read... seriously... why you are still reading. Oh, also I once wrecked my bicycle and my head almost got ran over by a Dodge Dakota... thank God for anti-lock brakes.

I know you are an open book already, but tell me something about you that most people would never guess. I am really shy around new people. I have to force myself to mingle. I really am. Just like everyone else, I am really comfortable with this keyboard and computer screen talking for days. But really, it takes me a few minutes to warm up to people... or a half dozen Busch Lights.

The perfect meal is… fish that my old man and I caught, fried up and eating with my family.

Who is your hero, and why are they your hero? I don't have "a" hero. I have so many heroes. Everyone in my life has heroic moments that go unrecognized. I have my buddy Peck who has been sober for like 10-15 years because he recognized there was a problem and took action. I wish I was a strong as him. One girl I know is raising two awesome boys on her on and is taking actions right now that she isn't super thrilled about but they are to really push her life forward. She is Wonder Woman. Weaver, my best friend was on a complete life crash course. I didn't even think he was going to make it. The guy is doing better than almost anyone I know. The asshole doesn't quit. I have a ton of friends that served or are currently serving in the armed forces. More heroes than any of us will be.

Tell me about the course of events that led you from Loup City, Nebraska to Charlotte, North Carolina. When I was 22. I was just going through the motions. School part time, and just a job. I didn't want to be stuck in the same routine. My old boss from the automotive industry reached out to me and asked if I would be general manager of a store for him in a franchise he just took over in Central Virginia. I packed up everything I had and left. Turned wrenches for about four years, until my body started breaking down. I left and went to the wireless industry. The wireless industry has treated me too well. I got promoted fast a few times but was commuting all over Central Virginia. In my last position, it was at a very low-ranking store and I was essentially sent to hopefully turn things around. I took a huge hit financially and felt life crashing around me. I needed to get somewhere with the company not so spread out. My best friend's family had recently moved to Charlotte, and they offered to help me get back on my feet. I applied for everything they had, and was in Florida on vacation and got a call from a store and did a Skype interview while down there. The nice thing about Skype interviews: you can do them without pants on. Which is what I did. Was offered a position as a sales rep. So I stepped out of management and moved down. The Gillan family has been such a huge blessing in my life. I have been doing very well here and on my feet, sprinting ahead in life. It is pretty cool.

Tell me about your favorite adventure you've had, and one you haven’t had yet… My life is an adventure. I really never know what is going to happen. I really don't have a favorite one. Every single one has had so much beauty in it. I guess my current favorite - two weeks ago I drove back from Nebraska to the East Coast and at the last second decided to veer off the beaten path and do part of the bourbon tour in Kentucky. I made a point to drive through a lot of the countryside. I drive almost everywhere I travel to. It gives you a chance to actually see this country. Appreciate things more. I am really looking forwards to venturing out to the West coast. I haven’t done that part of the States yet. This may sound weird, but I have no real desire to see much overseas until I see all of the United States. There is so much beauty and different personalities in our country in the different regions. I want to see it all.

What are your three favorite beers? Busch Light. Old Style. Yuengling. Go ahead and judge me. I am not fancy. I am not cheap either. Those are my go too beers. I generally prefer Ambers or Brown Ales. I am actually on a big whiskey kick.

How did you get involved in rugby? A friend of mine that I hired when I was running my shop played. I was driving down the road after doing a Crossfit workout with my old trainer Jeff Rhoden (RIP) and he drove up in the lane next to me and was on his way to practice. He hollered at me to come and so I did. I was hooked. I have met so many cool people along the way. I want to start playing again, but it is difficult to have time in the industry I am in.

Did you break a bone while playing? I have broken a lot of bones from rugby. I have broken my foot twice. One of the times I ran a half marathon a month later after it. Terrible Idea. I dislocated my collar bone. I broke my finger wrestling a teammate in the snow before practice once. My right index finger now is super crooked because it. I broke my nose, it is crooked now too.

What are your future plans? Do you make plans, or do you live each day as it shows up on your doorstep? I honestly do not know what my future holds. I tried to plan my life out when I was 19. I had that stripped from me when denied from the military. Since then, I don't really plan life. I need to try it again, make a career path. Until I somewhat figure things out, I will continue to work as hard as I can and spread as much good as possible. Not planning and just doing is not as bad as it sounds. I love my life being so unexpected. Creates some absurd experiences. Short term - more tattoos, hot wings, concerts, bad decisions, more charity work, and loads of travelling.

What’s the most important goal in your life? To get laid. Ok really. Right now I cannot pinpoint just one goal like career goals. I want to be at a point where if I wife a girl up, that if she hates what she is doing, or just doesn't want to work, I can be like, quit. Be happy. Personally, I'm creeping up on thirty. One big goal is to have a family. I'm one of two left in the Petersen Family to carry on the family name. Yikes. .... Ladies?

How big is your television? First of all, I would like to point out to everyone that I was told to erase this question. However, this is one of my favorite questions. I have a 42" TV, and haven't turned it on in over a month. I just don't watch TV or play video games like I used to. I think for the most part TV is trash. The only things I want to watch are sports. I got to people's houses or bars to watch sports though.

Besides being awesome, what are your other hobbies? First of all, I am not that awesome. But thank you. Right now, I find myself turning into a creature of habit. My favorite things to do right now in life are going to this bar by my house on Sundays for Karaoke, and Mondays for breakdancing and rap battles. I really enjoy doing that. I lift weights a lot too. I'm trying to become a monster. I find myself slipping off of my routine and drinking a lot. Which is bad. Kids, don't do that. It sets me back. One of my ongoing personal battles.

How often do you get to go home to Nebraska? I am such a crappy son. Last year was my first time back in two years. I used to go back about 2-3 times a year. I need to go see my mother more often. I just say my mother, because my dad always makes me work on vacations. They still live happily together in Loup City. I am going to start making a point to go back to Polish Days, my home town festival, every year if at all possible.

How many pieces of American flag clothing do you own? How many American flags? I own two flags. The sexiest American flag running shorts you will ever see. They even have built in underwear, for improved speed, agility, and sexuality. One custom made tank top, and one sleeveless UnderArmour-style shirt, a few bandanas, and a headband.

Who or what has been the greatest positive influence in your life? The most negative? The answer for both is my best friend. Jon Weaver. He is there for me no matter what. Absolutely. He keeps me grounded. The only partier person than me that I know. The dude is such a positive influence on me. He lives life how it should be lived. Calls things how he sees it. Works his ass off. Lives it super intensely. Why is he a negative influence? Whenever there is a moment when we seek advice from each other about a decision we are about to make that we know is bad, we push each other to make that bad decision, because we know it will lead to a great story.

If given the opportunity, what message or wisdom would you give to the world? If you work to leave the world in a better place when you leave it than when you entered it, then we all win.

Authors note: the following is a video of Dane being Dane. No bad, but maybe not for children.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2oA5pV4tCH8