I love to go camping, hiking, off roading. I used to have a 1975 Ford F150 Custom. I miss it. I used to drive a 92 Honda Accord. I love big trucks and fast cars. I am addicted to Monster energy drinks. I love music. I prefer rock and country. I prefer the night over the day. I love photography, I am always taking pictures. I am slowly getting back to my roots. The core of me is a gentleman, a cowboy that loves to work with his hands, a happy soul that uses music and art to express himself. I love to read and write. I have written three books and working on my fourth. I have written a childrens book, a romantic murder/mystery, and erotica and I am working on a love loss book/ I am honest to the core. I prefer scene girls and country girls but I have dated both sides of the spectrum. I say random things when I am bored or excited. I love the unusual. I have been a Volunteer Firefighter for almost five years. I was a Paramedic for three years, I want to re-certify myself. I am a proud Texan. I was born in the city but fell in love with the country. I do not look it all the time but I am a cowboy at heart. I love being outside. I love muddin. I was in the Army but i have been out for a bit, I want to go back or become a Police Officer. I have three tattoos and I plan on getting more. I was in college for Graphic Design. I want to go back to college for either Criminal Justice or Forensics. I wish to have my own day care/adoption center or a horse ranch. I came from a very bad past and I find it hard to talk about it. I only speak when spoken to. I do not like to talk about myself. I am a proud member of the PGR (Patriot Guard Riders). I dedicate my whole life to helping others. I love art and reading. I listen to all kinds of music but my hidden obsession is country. I love children, I pray to have some someday. I am a family-man. I prefer to take jobs that let me come home every night to my family then take me away. I have a very high standard on how women should be treated. I do not party. I do not go to clubs. To me a perfect time is when I am with that special someone eating some homemade dinner and cuddling up to watch a movie. I believe communication is a must.You can be in love and loyal and trusting but if you do not talk out your problems, the relationship will fail. I am a great fighter when i must fight but I prefer to talk it out like adults regardless with who or what the situation is. I am a hopeless romantic. I love to flirt and when I can make a women giggle or smile, that is what blows me away. Sex is not everything. I think cuddling and laughing with that special someone is better then sex.

Well lets start off with the basics. My name is Ethan, son of Gregory and Wendy. I was born in Traverse City, Michigan on September 4th, 1989. I have one blood sibling. Her name is Ashley Starr. She is a year older then me. I am 5 foot 7 inches, my weight varies between 165-185 pounds, I have blue/green eyes. My father was in the United States Army. My parents got divorced when i was really young. Before the divorce, my father would take me on Ft Hood alot and he would always show me around the base. I loved watching him work on the AH-64D Apache attack helicopters. It was when I was watching my dad, in his BDUs, joking around and having a good time working on those helicopters that I had decided to make it my life mission to be a Soldier. I can still remember the final fight that caused my parents to get a divorce. Me and my sister were sitting on the couch and my parents were having a disagreement. My father tried to walk away and calm down so he could talk it out later. My mother refused to let him do so. That only angered him more. It ended up them screaming at each other in front of me and my sister. The fight was about my father going AWOL. He went AWOL for he just returned from a tour and less then a month later, they wanted to send him to South Korea. My father cannot handle going years without seeing his children. When he said he would finally turn himself in, my mother went ballistic. She accused him of cheating, in which he did so and she also accused him of much more in which he was not guilty. But what really set my father off, was Wendy said she was going to take me and my sister from him. As the yelling and fighting got more intense, my father had a plate in his hand and instead of hitting Wendy, he threw the plate at the wall, causing it to break. The sound of the plate breaking caused my sister to start crying. My father then tried to tell Wendy to stop so he can comfort Ashley and take us across the street so we dont have to see this. She refused and continued to push him. Then she took me and Ashley outside and called the MPs, she claimed my father hit her and was cutting himself. When in all reality, my father was crying sitting on the porch, watching Wendy take his children away. As i saw the ambulance and MPs drive up, I took Ashley aside and tried to distract her. I had to witness my father being carried out by the MPs and then being strapped down onto a stretcher. We ended up leaving shortly after. We drove from Ft Hood to Kalkaska Michigan. For the first few years we lived with Wendys mother, Glenda. It was good for a litter bit but she would not allow me and Ashley to have contact with our father. I remember one Christmas we were at a church, having a good time and Wendy came in, in a frenzy saying my father showed up and sliced her tires. But my father was in Texas at the time. There was another time she claimed my father and his younger brother Chris tried to break into the house and kidnap me and Ashley. She then put herself on food stamps and contacted Habit for Humanity. She took advantage of the system and was able to get her own house in Traverse City, free of rent and utilities. Me and my sister were in school full time and while we were at school I have no idea what Wendy was doing. But shorty after, she asked her if we would be fine with her dating again. We said yes. It started with a few random dates here and then and then it became where she would date. One guy she dated was a registered sex offender. He had told her he wanted my sister Ashley. Wendy continued to date him anyways. When i found out, I never let my sister be around him alone. Wendy then dated a real good man. This man adored e and Ashley and would never hurt us. he made us our entire world and once Wendy discovered that, she stopped seeing him. She then went back to going to bars and clubs and just have fuck buddies. I remember one time I was hanging out with Ashley in her room and I walked out to the living room only to see her have sex with a random man. I remember finding nude pictures of Wendy.Then it got to the point where Wendy was never home. Ashely had a full time job at Taco Bell at the time but Ashley would always be home when i got home. She would ask me how my day was, we would talk about anything interesting that happened and she would help me with my homework. Then she would make me dinner and go off to work. And when she got home, if I was still awake, she would help me with any homework I could not finish and she would feed me again if I was hungry. If I was asleep, I would wake up to seeing her come into my room and hugging me, making sure I had the covers over me and she would kiss my forhead and whisper "I love you". She would do this every day. And any time Wendy would start in on me, Ashely would always defend me. My sister at 12 years old, mew at 10, had to step up and be my mother, my sister, my friend and my tutor. All while still maintaining "A' and "B"s in school and working full time. About a year laterWendy met James Edward Schmidt III. Imminently we moved in with him. When we first got there, things seemed alright. He gave us gifts and would always want to spend time with me and Ashley. Ashley asked Wendy if she could live with my father for a year. Wendy said yes. It wasnt long after that before things started to go south. Soon me and James started to argue alot, he became very strict. He would wake me about 5am and would work me till about 6pm before I could eat. Then work me until dusk. One meal a day and sometime it was just a sandwich. Then the arguing became more intense. I remember the first time. I had no taken a shower in over 4 days. I asked Wendy if I could take a shower. She said no. I asked why, James got into my face and slapped me upside my head, knocking me down. I cried. I was only allowed to shower once a week. The fights would then increase. From a slap to a punch, from a punch to a kick. I remember one fight with James in the basement. James said  "Ashley is a lose, fat whore and when she comes back, Im going to fuck her". I glanced down at a steak knife and he told me to take it. i didnt. He told me again to take the knife and I didnt. He then grabbed me and slammed my head into the corner of a billiards table.I fell to the ground and he mounted on top of me. He then spit in my face and began calling me all sorts of names before he punched me again and then stood up and put me in a head lock. He threw me down and walked away. I thought that was as bad as it would get. I was wrong. One day, I was pulling on a one piece snow suit and was getting ready to go outside and install lights on his business sign. I needed to get a ladder to get to the top of the sign. I told James that but he refused. he told me to climb the sign to do it. I told him I cant, that I would fall. So I walked outside and walked to the back yard to get a ladder. Him and Wendy came after me. He tackled me down and mounted me as he started to repeatedly punch my in the head. Then for the first time, Wendy struck me. She started to kick me in the side. Minutes passed and then they got off me. A few months later my sister came back. When she did, the beatings stopped. But after a couple months, it happened one more time. I live on the second story of a large farm house in the middle of the country, in the upstairs bathroom we had a toilet that didnt work properly. After you flush, you would have to take the top off and pull the little lever to make it stop flushing. Well I used the toilet and walked back to my room to make my bed. James came flying up the stairs and walked into my room screaming for me to fix the toilet. So i stopped making my bed and proceed to fix the toilet. AS soon as I stopped making my bed, he yelled at me about that. So I went to finish making my bed and he lost it. He charged after me and tackled me onto my bed. He started screaming insults and started to choke me. Just before I passed out, I heard my sister run into my room and tell him to get oof of he. He yelled back at her and then i passed out. I woke up moments later and saw Ashley yelling at James. James then slapped Ashley and that angered me very much but I still couldnt move. Then James punched Ashley. At that point I was able to sit up. I then heard Wendy come up that stairs. I thought she would tell james to stop. I was wrong. She turned to my sister and said "Leave now or get the same treatment". My sister does not take kindly to threats, let alone threats against me. She refused to leave until James did. Wendy then pushed her into the hallway and James turned towards me. As James made his way back to me, I heard glass breaking and s scream. James stopped and turned around. Right then, Wendy walked into my room with blood dripping down her face. Ashley followed with blood on her fist and a smile on her face. She then lurched for James. I could tell that the look in her eyes means she wanted blood. James kicked her and threw her down. I then jumped off my bed and finally fought back. I tackled James down and started to punch me. He pushed me off and then tried to leave my room. I tackled him down again in the hallways and then he threw me down the stairs. And then they went about the day like that morning never happened. I was afraid to come home from school. I had purposely gotten into trouble alot in school so they would give me a "baby sitter" or a personal Para. When I came to school that day with a black eye, my Para saw it and took me to the office. They called Child Protective Services and the Sheriff. They took statements and pictures but I was too afraid to say what really happened. My Para said i could stay at her house for as long as I wanted if I didnt feel safe. Without me telling her, she knew how it happened. But again I was too afraid. When i did go home, it wasnt good. There was alot of yelling. Another time I went to a friends, in which they knew ahead of time, they called the police and said I ran away from home. There was another case where James drew a rifle on me and told me he would kill me. Then when my father received full custody of me, Wendy kidnapped me. She drove us down to Arkansas and hopped from camp ground to camp ground for over a month. Then she went back to Michigan and I was finally able to get in contact with my father online. Three days later my father showed up with a Sheriff. James tried to hide me upstairs and say I wasnt there and that Wendy wasnt there. I watch threw the window and then I started to whistle down to my step mother at the time. The Sheriff told James to bring me downstairs. James had me strip down to just my boxers and sandles then sent me downstairs.As I was walking downstairs, one of James dogs attack the officer and the officer said he was going to charge James. James said "fuck you" and fled inside the house. The cop followed until James went upstairs. He asked me if James had any gun in the house and I said yes. Then the officer raidoed for back up and told us to leave. It wasnt until  was with my father that I learned James had a warrant out for his arrest for shooting at a police officer. Living with my father was always good. We had our ups and downs like normal but I was always safe and protected. He ended up leaving his second wife and met a far better woman. His second wife hated me because my dad always put me before her. But his third and current wife is an amazing mother. I love her to death and she has always been there for me. I currently have 5 sisters and one brother now. I am the second oldest. I was a volunteer firefighter for quite a while. I was in the Army. I got a medical discharge. When I lived with Wendy and James, I vowed to never raise my hand to a woman or child in such a manner and I never have. I have always wanted to become a Police Officer or a councilor for children from broken homes. I want to save children from a past like mine and I want to punish those parents and people that bring such hurt onto a woman and child. I have looked around and seen how hateful the world is and I want to change it. One random act of kindness a day can go very far. I have worked as a Nurses Assistant, I want to be a certified mid-wife, I want to have my certificates in Child Development, Child Behavior, Child CPR and I want to one day own a Child Care and Adoption Center. I have gotten beyond my past and I now use it as a motivational tool to be the best damn father I can be when that time comes and to help change the life of other children. My father is my Hero, my best friend. I used to be the silent type, very timid. Thanks to my father, being a firefighter and soldier, I have grown to not be afraid to stand my ground no matter what and to always voice what is on my mind. I am an active member in the USO, Adopt A Soldier and Soldiers Angels. When I am single, I like to flirt. But once I get into a relationship, I cut out nearly all my female friends, I stop flirting and I give her my all.i try to be the type of friend that will drop whatever he is doing and rive where-ever he has to, no matter how far to help a friend. I am the protective big brother and the "role model" for my siblings. I am a daddys boy and mommas pride and joy. I prefer to always talk out my problems but I am not afraid to get physical if there is no other option. I love to clean and I want to learn how to cook more. I love to write poetry and short stories. I ahve written a childs story and I am working on my second childs story. I try to love everyone and hold no hate but I am just human after all. To those of you who have taken the time to read this, thank you and please comment. I will add more later.

I have been a firefighter for 5 years, I was a soldier for a while. I have been knocked out, I have be beaten till I was on life support, I have seen and experienced mankinds hate....I have been scared shitless, I have cried but I still did it because my love for the people is stronger then anything the hate throws at me.....I have been on life support four times and I will not let it ever hold me back.I do it not for glory or even honor. I do it because I cannot stand by and watch others die for me. I cannot see people get hurt. This is not the world I want my children to grow up in. I do it for my father who did it for me in desert storm. I do it for my step mother who has shown me such amazing kindness. I do it for my sisters and my brother who has always been there to make me smile. I do it for my real mother, for even though she beat me I wish to give her a better life then she have gave me. I do it for my Nazi step father, so that maybe before he dies, he can see the good in America and not hate so much. I do it for America, the spirit that lives in each one of us because if it wasnt for that spirit, I never would have been able to live in such a god gifted place. I have done things I am not proud of. I have done things people would consider heroic. I know I am different. I know I am meant for great things. Sometimes I forget that. I have a hero complex. I always have to rush to peoples aide, without a thought about my own safety or happiness. I know this will get me killed one day but I will not and cannot change. A wise man once told me "A man is not judged by the life he leads, a man is judged by the lives of others he has changed." So I live my life so that when my time comes, I have no regrets, that others will say "He was a man among boys". Every person I come in contact with, I try to make better. The bible says "One random act of kindness a day goes very far" so I try to change the world, one act at a time. I have memories of things people should never see. I have experienced things that people should never experience. But it is the life I chose. Most days i wake up and I am fine. Some days I wake up and I can only think about those memories. But this is who I am. I am the man that will always rush in to danger to save someone, even if it kills me. I am the man that will go out of his way to make someone a little bit happier. I am not perfect. I do not want to be. I am happy with myself. I love everyone. Life is short, you never know when it is your time. Live, laugh and love.