Before I was born, my father kicked my mother in the stomach so hard that she that she flew into the Christmas tree. Long before that his mother approached my mother and told her to have an abortion. I was born February 2, 1967 after 73 long hours of labor. At the age of 4, I had already moved around so much due to the misguidedness of my father, but by the time I was 5 he decided it was time to settle down, so me my little sister, my three older brothers and my mom nestled in a 2 bedroom 1 bath house. That is where all my troubles began. I was first molested by the neighbor's Uncle. When I told my Mom she told my Dad, who then told my Uncles, and they walked me back down to the guy to confront him. My Dad took out his knife and stuck it to his gut and said that if he ever touched me again he would kill him. I kept thinking to myself, "kill em now, kill em now. A few month's later, I was spending the night at my best friend's house like I always did when I woke up to her dad molesting me. I pretending to be asleep and rolled closer to my friend. The next day, I told my Mom. I was told that I was never to go over there ever again. I thought something was wrong with me. As the years past guys would try to trap me and take advantage of me, and I never knew how to handle it. One day I just became a fighter. A fighter for everything.
In 1995 I lost my daughter. I wanted the world to come to an end. But it didn't. I had to go on. I walked away from my husband due to his cheating ways. Lost my one and only car. I had two jobs that I was working, when I quit one for harassment, then the other let me go without cause, and 3 mouths to feed. I nearly lost my home, had to sell that at a short sale, and nowhere to go. I found places here and there, till I finally found another job and a place to rent. turns out the place I was renting had been foreclosed on and I was paying the defunked owner 700.00 a month for a house she didn't even own. I was told by the bank that I had 30 days to vacate the property. Luckily (yeah okay) I was dating someone who offered his home to me and my boys. He had friends living with him at the time who pilfered through my things taking what they wanted before they moved out.
in 2001 I move to AZ. I met what I thought was my first true love as an adult woman. He ends up being a closet Methhead. He beats me and my teenage sons, he nearly killed me at one point, choking the breath out of me while he sat upon my stomach which I had just had surgery on. The whole time all I wanted to do was help him get off the drugs I believed were the reason behind why he was acting the way he did. It took me 3.5 years and the loss of my sons and their respect to realize you can't help someone who doesn't want the help. And no matter how much love you think you've got invested, it isn't worth losing the love you already had. I was wrong to think that my love for my sons had a foundation to which could survive anything, or anyone.
I finally find a good place in my life, a good home, a good man, and happiness. It isn't perfect, but it is the best thing that I have ever had in my life. I have a little boy whom I enjoy immensely. I just wish things were different with my three older boys.
There is something about me that either inspires people, infuriates people, or just makes them down right want to rip me to shreds, and I do not know why.
I am who I am, and I will not apologize for that. I am my own living book, and I am the only copy. Everyone has had a piece of me and I am still here. I am still here damn it. Despite all your rips and tears, and put downs, and anything else you try and do to me. I am still here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You can't have the part of me that you want so bad. No one can. It's not yours. It's mine. My strength. My courage. My wisdom. My pride. My spirit. Me!! I cannot be broken.
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