Conquering Chaos (3 page)

It was never about erasing the differences between us. Not at all. I’m more reserved
and easygoing and he’s more outgoing and loud, and we pull each other out of our comfort
zones. I’ve taught him how to calm down and not get anxious or mad about the little
things that he used to get mad about. And he’s taught me how to get a little tougher
about what I want. And when we’re facing something difficult, we each bring a different
perspective to every situation that the other person wouldn’t naturally think about.
That’s what teamwork is all about.

Tyler:

We’ve both mutually benefited from what we taught each other. We started working on
this stuff when we were just kids, really. We’ve been a team for a long time, and
the bond we have together matured as we grew up. We’re not perfect, and we’ve had
some rough patches. But once we figured out how well we worked as a team, we tried
to keep that going. Neither of us ever had any interest in being one of those couples
who fight hardcore all the time. What’s the point?

Catelynn:

We’ve never been a fighting couple. We’re just not interested in making each other
miserable like that. In the first years of the relationship, we didn’t argue much
at all. If we did, we were probably drunk and laughed about it later! Basically, when
we had a problem, we talked it out. That was our rule, and it still is.

Since we’ve gotten older and started dealing with more adult stress and challenges,
we’ve had some bickering here and there. But overall, we can remember maybe six fights
we’ve gotten into. Most of them happened in the years after we’d placed our daughter
Carly for adoption. Those were some overwhelming times, and we’re human. But for the
most part, and definitely for the important parts, we’ve been a team since day one.
Not only are we proud of that, but we’re thankful for it every day. Without each other,
who knows how we would have come as far as we have?

Tyler:

Just imagine if I hadn’t grabbed her hand.

Catelynn:

Yeah, just imagine if I hadn’t let him!

From the very beginning and continuing to this day, we get asked for relationship
advice. Even our parents ask us! We try to give the best advice we can, but all we
can really do is share what we’ve learned from our own experiences. Every single time,
it boils down to a few important things.

First, be with the person you want to be with. Don’t just date to date, or date because
you’re afraid to be alone. A good relationship is based on mutual love and dedication,
and that’s all there is to it.

Second, honesty is absolutely necessary in a relationship. Be open about your feelings
and what you want, and make sure the other person feels safe doing the same thing
with you. Don’t let problems build up in silence because you’re afraid to bring them
up. That’s like throwing a grenade under the rug. It
will
blow up later, and it’ll cause a lot more destruction than if you would have just
talked it out in the first place.

Third, be kind to each other. Never say or do things just to hurt the other person.
If you’re lucky enough to be with someone who trusts you enough to show you their
weaknesses, the worst thing you can possibly do is turn around and use that against
them. No low blows. Ever.

Fourth, respect the other person’s point of view. Even if you don’t agree with what
they’re saying, try to see where they’re coming from. In the end you might have to
agree to disagree, but at least you’ll know you respected each other enough to try
and understand why. And who knows? They might be seeing something important from their
point of view that you just weren’t able to see from yours.

These things are all easier said than done. Emotions can get in the way, and people
make mistakes. That’s why relationships are hard! But if you work together with love,
honesty, kindness and respect, you can take on the world as a team. Like we always
say, we can only speak from our own experience. But working on these good habits made
our relationship a source of strength that got us through the most difficult experiences
of our lives. In the years since we joined hands for the first time, we’ve had to
draw on that strength many, many times. If we hadn’t been able to turn to each other
when times were dark, who knows where we would be now? Probably not writing this book!

Ever looked at a young person and saw something in them that made you say, “That’s
a good kid”? We’ve heard that said about us a few times in the years since we started
sharing our lives in the public eye. “They’re good kids.” It makes us feel good to
hear that, but it also makes us wonder sometimes: What does that mean, really, to
be a “good kid”? People make it sound like it’s something you either are or you aren’t.
Like there’s some sign they can spot early on that says, “This kid is gonna grow up
right.” Sometimes they’re right. And it’s a nice thing for a kid to hear, that they’re
“good” — and it gives them pride, something to live up to.

But we wouldn’t have that idea of “good kids” if we didn’t have an idea of “bad kids”
to compare it to. And for every kid in school who grows up hearing they’re good, there’s
another one wearing the other label. You can probably think of one right now. Maybe
you’re a teacher and you’ve got a boy in your class who just has no respect for rules
or authority. Maybe you remember a girl from seventh grade with a mean streak who
was always picking on other kids. Maybe you’re a parent with a teenager whose only
goal in life seems to be to make your life miserable.

Or maybe you
were
a “bad kid.” Like us.

Yep. That’s right. People don’t seem to take it seriously when we tell them, but it’s
true: We didn’t start out as the “good kids” we might have come across as on TV.
Hell
no! Back in the day, we were more like the ones the “good kids” weren’t allowed to
hang out with. The fact is if you’d seen us before MTV, back in junior high or even
in elementary school, your first thought probably wouldn’t have been, “Those kids
are definitely gonna turn out right.” More likely you would have shaken your head.
You might not have come right out and called us “bad kids,” but that’s what plenty
of people thought we were.

We like to think we’ve proved them wrong.

See, it’s never as simple as “good kids” and “bad kids.” That kid in kindergarten
tearing up all his notebooks and yelling at the teacher? He might be the most sensitive
kid in class, if he could just figure out how to channel that energy. That first-grader
with the sweet manners who always follows instructions? She might have problems at
home that’ll drive her to drugs by the time she’s twenty. Kids are complicated. You
can’t just look at them and think you know what’s going on inside, and you definitely
can’t say for sure how they’re going to turn out.

We’re glad people think we’re good kids now. And we sure as hell don’t want to change
anybody’s mind! But since we’re lucky enough to have all these people listening to
us with open minds, we want to show the rest of the story. We want to give you a chance
to reconsider that whole idea of “good kids” and “bad kids,” and how much people can
change.

Tyler:

Trouble started early with me. I got kicked out of every daycare I was ever in. How,
right? Well, I was very defiant toward any kind of authoritative figure. Even before
I was five years old I remember thinking in my head, “What gives you the right to
tell me what to do? Who gave you the title to tell me that I’m wrong because I don’t
agree with what you’re saying? Just because you were born a few years before me?”
I just wanted to battle them constantly: Cops, teachers, parents, anybody in charge.

The first time I remember really getting into it with a teacher was at a monastery
daycare. It was run by nuns, and the place had a strict, crazy, cultish atmosphere.
It wasn’t the right place for me from the start, to put it bluntly. For example, when
you got in trouble, the nuns used to put you in an extreme time-out. They’d lock you
in this little room with the lights off, nothing but a filing cabinet and a chair
facing the window, and they’d tell you to sit there quietly, think about what you
did, and pray.

That wasn’t working for me. As soon as I knew the door was locked, I started kicking
it as hard as I could. I kicked it and kicked it and kicked it. Nuns are really patient,
you know. They probably thought I’d wear myself out. So they let me kick my heart
out…until the wood started cracking. Then it was on. When the nun opened the door,
she was really upset, but I was in beast mode: I got a hold of that filing cabinet
and shoved the whole thing over. Even worse, the corner of that thing nicked the nun’s
arm, and she freaked out. That was it for monastery daycare. It was like, “Take your
crazy devil son and get the hell out of here!”

That last daycare, though, that worked out. It was the first one I didn’t get kicked
out of, which was good, since it was the last one left in the county. The woman in
charge was named Debbie, and she worked a miracle on me. All she really did was take
the time to talk to me, individually, instead of just making me part of the group.
She never just treated kids as kids. She tried to understand them and communicate
with them. When she told me to do something and I said “I don’t wanna do that,” she
didn’t just say “Well you have to.” She said, “Well, why not? Why don’t you wanna
do that?”

That worked like magic. I did great at that daycare! I was there for about a year,
right up until my mom saved up enough to buy a house and we packed up and moved forty
miles away. The last day I was at daycare, that teacher was bawling her eyes out.
When I left she told me, “I will never, ever, ever forget you. I will remember you
for the rest of my life.” I said the same thing to her, and it was true. I do still
remember everything she did for me at that crazy time in my childhood. So Debbie,
thank you.

I did fine when I felt like someone was actually hearing me. I just didn’t like being
told what to do without a civil conversation. And honestly, that was the theme that
repeated over the course of my years at school. I didn’t even make it through second
grade before the trouble start up again. Some kid had knocked over my crayons and
spilled them all over the floor, and I told him to pick them up. Of course he said
no. So we started to fight about it, and when the teacher noticed, she said, “Tyler,
pick your crayons up.” Well, that wasn’t fair. I wasn’t the one who dropped them!
So I refused, I got defiant, and bam. I was suspended.

The second time I got suspended . . . well, we’ll save that for another chapter.

Catelynn:

I didn’t really have problems in school. Well, my grades sucked. I guess that’s a
pretty big problem. But as far as fighting with teachers, I didn’t have the same experience
as Tyler at all. I was a really laid back person at school. I didn’t act up in class
or make people mad. My problem was just being a social butterfly. All I really cared
about at school was hanging out and talking with my friends. So it was fine for me.

My social life was important, because I didn’t really like going home. There was just
no stability. That was how I got away with failing everything all the way through
middle school. My mom just wasn’t involved. She wasn’t going to meetings with the
teachers to see what my issues were, or showing up to parent-teacher conferences.
Nobody ever made a big deal out of it or tried to get me to straighten up my grades.
Well, a few teachers tried to help me out, of course, but it didn’t really matter.
Seriously, I failed everything. Our middle school didn’t kick anyone out for bad grades,
so they just pushed me on through. I didn’t start doing well until later, in high
school. For the most part I just floated through school and focused on hanging out
with my friends, because that was where I could relax and be myself.

Basically, school wasn’t the battleground for me. Home was the battleground. At home
it was all parties and drinking. My mom had a different boyfriend every few months,
and people were always over at the house partying and playing music loud. All the
time there were parties! I used to get out of bed at night and ask them to turn it
down so I could get some sleep before I had to go to school. And there was tons of
drinking. My mom was always drunk. The only time she was sober was in the two years
after my little brother was born. When that time was up, she went right back to her
old ways, passing out at the kitchen table with the kids running loose. I’d have to
put pillows under her head and make sure she was okay, then take care of my brother
and sister. It felt like I was on guard all the time. We moved around a lot, too,
from house to house. It was just never stable at all.

My mom and I didn’t fight a lot, though. We actually got along really well, at least
right up until I got pregnant. But before that, we were good friends. It wasn’t the
healthiest relationship, though. She never pushed any rules or restrictions on me,
and I pretty much got to do whatever I wanted. And growing up in a trailer park without
supervision, you know, eventually I did end up finding lots of stuff to do that I
shouldn’t have been doing. Tyler’s a witness!

Tyler:

At home, my mom was begging me all the time: “Tyler, just keep your mouth shut, for
God’s sake, and you wouldn’t get in trouble! It’s simple!” And I would have to say,
“Mom, I’m sorry, I can’t.” I didn’t have those authority problems with her, though.
In our house, we’d get into it, but then we’d work things out. She debated things
with me. She listened. She let me have the conversation. It wasn’t like “I’m 30, you’re
10, and this is what it is.” It was, “Let’s talk about this. What happened? What are
you feeling? Why are you acting that way?” She gave me the opportunity every time
to explain what was going through my head. I still got in trouble plenty of times,
but at least I had a chance to feel like it was fair and we both got to tell our sides
of the story. That’s what I wanted. I just wanted someone to listen to me, and then
I was ready to listen back.