Turn back time to when you were 15 years old. Do you remember looking back at Disney princesses and waiting for your first boyfriend to sweep you off your feet? The boy who would save you from all your drama and be the one "go-to guy"? The one you'd give your life to? Do you remember listening to songs on the radio, pretending to be in a music video where you get your first kiss? Well, let's fast-forward.

Here I am at 19. I have a 2-year-old diva of a daughter — I like to refer to her as a "Two-nager" — and I am happily engaged and in love with my man of five years. Seems picturesque, right? Waking up early to make each other breakfast in bed? Birds chirping and sweet child nestled between us?

HA, no. Here's what mornings look like:

Me dragging or being dragged, out of bed to the sound of my child yelling "Hello!" at the top of her lungs, changing clothes and fixing the curliest of hair only to be told she wanted pigtails,not a ponytail. I know dang it; How could I not have known she would've changed her mind? Making three things for my child for breakfast and having her eat two bites and getting "full." Cleaning up the dishes and wrapping up the untouched food and moving on. Don't get me wrong, I love my child. She is the only person who can drive me up the wall and still steal my heart simultaneously. I guess that was inherited from her Daddy. But she still can just drive me absolutely crazy. . . I think it comes with the territory.

Then, the day is full of school and completing assignments for my degree, trying to juggle a small hurricane that always seems to hit my living room; Nope, don't ask the child, she will have no idea how the crayon ended up on the fireplace. Compromising and trying to mesh a two adult and one toddler life together. It is full of laughing and tickles, of peekaboos and kissing scrapes, of learning and trying to jam pack my child's brain full of all the knowledge that will keep her safe and well-rounded. It is responsibility after responsibility, and I won't lie, some days I feel more like Cinderella before she got her glass slippers.

My man has definitely swept me off my feet. Yes, stereotypical "bad boy" steals the innocent girl's heart. We decided to be reckless and I ended up getting pregnant way sooner than anyone had anticipated, and therefore we had to mature faster. I was unsure and so were the people around me — a major understatement if you catch my drift. We had to progress ahead of our years which means making the adult decisions; No cute date nights to the movies, no time for afternoon naps and splurging on frivolous things I really didn't need but was "dying" to have. Some days we have less in our bank accounts than we care to mention, some days I am pushed to my limits and want to give in. But you know what? He won't let me. He will not let me stand alone. He will not let me crumble. In some oddly twisted way, he is my Prince Charming.

My point is, you don't get to make a road-map. You can plan and you can schedule and you can envision all you want, but while you are doing so, life is still happening — She says as she writes with child sprawled over her lap. Our love isn't a fairytale, our love isn't always romantic. Sometimes it uses up an entire box of tissues. Sometimes it's quick kisses and twelve hour days; sometimes it's an "I love you" text message because he had to go and wanted me to sleep in. It's giving up on gift giving so that our daughter can be blessed beyond measure. It's group hugs in the kitchen, singing our "It's Nighty-Nighty time" song into the phone for our daughter to fall asleep. This love is staying up late and making time for our relationship. This love is talking during a ten-minute work break and me taking our child to the E.R. without him; she fine doesn't worry. It's hysterically laughing because there're no other options. This love is giving each other a break to catch our breath. This love is learning how to do things separately and together.

Can I be honest? This love is hard. This love is frustrating as hell. This love is so messy. This love has cracks and scars, and contains every emotion I think there is. But this love is the best kind. This love encompasses my happiest moments. This love doesn't come easy, we have grown out of the honeymoon and climbed into the war. We are learning new things about each other and about ourselves daily. This love is growing with us. This love is the kind you fight for. This love isn't a fairy-tale, but it's mine.