Dedication: Women of Violence
My story starts as a young girl at the age of seven coming from a dysfunctional family that fell apart from the beginning. A mother who was mentally unstable with five children and a father who really didn’t know how or what to do with a wife that was a alcoholic and not wanting to change. He thought his only option was to leave the family and seek other relationships. My brothers and one sister was seen by our immediate family members as those children that would turn out to be nothing but a statistic that would never amount up to nothing. As the years went by and our family went in two different directions, the prophetic was coming true. My brothers were on drugs and in and out of jail, and my sister and I struggled with life challenges that came our way. I didn’t understand any of this misfortune of mine. Finally, my praying grandmother convinced a family member to adopt me. And my baby brother came later. I thought wow, a warm bed to sleep in, food on the table, a stable environment and a home with two parent who loved us and wanted to protect us from all harm and danger. Then, when I was eleven, my adopted mother had a heart attack and died. My adopted father was confused and became unstable to care for us. I ended up back with my biological mother who was still unstable, living in the projects and remarried to someone else who was physically abusive to her. My second to the oldest brother had seen my mother’s husband abuse her for years, until one day my brother snapped, and stabled him to death. I was scared, confused, and didn’t know what to do. I remember my adopted mother’s sister that lived in another city, so I went next door to a neighbor house and ask if I could use the phone to call my adopted mother’s sister to see if I could come to live with her and the young man of the neighbor tried to rape me after making the phone call to my aunt. Needless to say I was devastated. Months later, I went to live with my adopted mother’s sister until I was nineteen years old. After I graduated from high school I came back to live with my adopted father who finally got his self together and I went to college. At that time I met my husband, got married and the dysfunction started all over again. My husband abused me physically and mentally for years, but my determination was to finish college get a job and take care of my children. Eventually, my husband pass away after nineteen years of marriage. I raised my children alone from this point forward. My son married with three children and my daughter in the medical field. I then finish a my master degree in nursing and have remarried to a wonderful man. I said all of this to say, don’t let your past define your future. There is a purpose for your life. Rise above the pain, hurt, and dysfunction. There is a grandmother or a family member who is praying for you. The end of the story has not been told.