Sanjo Jendayi's Blog, page 4

*This entry is a part of a continuous series, reading the previous entries will help you follow without missing a beat*

I saw this picture and it captivated me…it silently spoke to me telling me, “Sanjo, don’t let the things you’ve been taught to believe about yourself, this life and God make you so rigid that you bear unhealthy or no fruit at all because you will not bend and stretch your mind to hear the God in you! To talk to God, to check in with SELF to see what YOU believe, to still your mind and hear the GREAT I AM and bloom where you stand! Move, Dance, Blossom and let others see it’s a beautiful thing to be FREE!”

I had to finally sit down and seek God for myself. One on one. Me and God. I had to not only do this for me but for my children and my children’s children. God is an awesome God and when we truly seek Him…we will find Him. I wrote in my journal daily, walked and talked with God. During this time I also was battling health issues, I was having severe back pain for over seven years that would render me immobile. My children would have to literally carry me to the bathroom and take care of me at such young ages. I also fell frequently due to my balance being off. I was getting fed up and tired. I was tired of struggling, tired of being sick, tired of being angry, tired of being sad…JUST TIRED! Prayer and meditation began to change me, fill me with peace and give me hope.

Remember earlier I mentioned how there are times you have to call on the troops? Well God started building my troops before I knew that’s what they were. He lined my front line up and built them strong enough to stand up to me when the Lioness in me began to roar and roam like she could handle everything alone. I had to learn that my troops were no good if I never called on them to fight! God sent Donald Lambert who I met at a training class for MVM Security. In walks this 6 foot something muscular, cocky dude who was making everyone laugh. When he offered to treat a few of us ladies to lunch, I went. We have been inseparable ever since. He was one of the 1st men to genuinely like me for me and not try to get me into bed. We became the best of friends.

Then there was the man I called dad long before meeting my biological father. He was actually my Project Manager at work. I was in my twenties and Randolph Gresham would always give me fatherly advice never once trying to crack on me. One day my car broke down in front of the job and I was out there tinkering under the hood when he came out and took a look at it. He got it to work, told me what it needed and told me to bring it past his house that weekend so he could show me how to fix it. My facial expression must have showed what I was thinking because he said, “that way you can meet my wife as well.” I felt better about that. He became the 2nd male friend/father to love me for me.

I went that weekend and sure enough, I met his wife and we changed my oil, distributor cap and spark plugs. I was dirty but it felt good. It was an odd feeling of love I had never felt before.

After that, he would get on me if I came to work out of uniform in a skirt too short or if he caught me flirting at work. He started really treating me like his child and I didn’t resent it. One day I didn’t have lunch money and I asked if he could buy me lunch, he jokingly said he’s gonna have to start claiming me on his taxes as his daughter and I said okay dad. That stuck and some 16yrs later I still call him dad and his family is my family as they all embraced me with open arms, even when he remarried, his wife loves me and mine as much as we love her.  He was the only granddad my kids knew until my biological father found me.

http://www.sanjojendayi.com

*This entry is a part of a continuous series, reading the previous entries will help you follow without missing a beat*

There comes a point in every man’s life when he has to say: ‘Enough is enough.’~ Lance Armstrong

I came to a point where I realized life was not “happening to me” I was directing it and ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH! I declared, I am taking my life back and that is exactly what I did. I began writing and performing my poetry more frequently and released my 1st book, Black Butterfly…Soaring on the Wings of Poetry which did pretty well. Writing this book was true Poetic Therapy because at first I believed I was writing for myself, but each time I would get on the mic, someone would tell me that I am telling their story. Women would cry and say “thank you” when I left the stage and I was beginning to remember that God had a bigger calling on my life. I thought back to my days of speaking in school, to speaking in my early 20’s. Sharing my story is a large part of how He gifted me to reach other people. I had my own line of positive t-shirts and a cafe press store with everything from mugs, bags, hats, tees, journals, etc…ALL with my sayings on them. With that said, like a puzzle I could place together the pieces and the bigger picture is what I now have in view. I can’t quite make it out yet but I can see that it is shaping into a beautiful picture.

Church played a heavy roll in my life and at the time I needed a straight forward teaching that would penetrate this knuckle head of mine and God sent me where I needed to be during that time. This chapter of my life covers about a 10year span of carrying the “Little Girl Lost” as she began to feel strong enough to walk beside me and trust me enough to respond to situations instead of her reacting to them. I even practiced celibacy for 5yrs to learn a little more about me. It was hard at first but then it got easier, the more I began learning what I like. Day by day I was learning to love me.

I started studying my history more. Studying powerful women and reading self help books, autobiographies, and business books. I began doing more inner work to clean my cup on the inside in preparation for the overflow.

As I went from church to church seeking answers that I now know were inside of me all along; in hindsight it reminds me of how I went from man to man seeking a love that was already in me through the God in me.

See, those core beliefs that I had were not my beliefs. They were beliefs that were placed inside of me by my mom, my family, my churches, and society therefore, I had to also say enough is enough to all of the societal beliefs and other beliefs I let seep deep into my soul.

 www.sanjojendayi.com

*This entry is a part of a continuous series, reading the previous entries will help you follow without missing a beat*

James came back later in my life and we tried to make it work because truth be told, I LOVED me some him but we had too much history… bad history. A part of me will always love him though because he taught me a lot about myself and about life. See, James is a very intelligent man and he spoke wisdom most of the time. That second time around, James taught me how to eat right. He would exercise with me daily and he began speaking life into me. Our biggest downfall was James could see the speck in everyone else’s eye but not the log in his own. He had his own issues that he had yet to tackle and as I was growing the “Little Girl Lost” up (some with his help) we outgrew each other.  Anywho, I was proposed to three times including an actual engagement to James. He and I had went as far as planning the wedding down to our wedding location and everything but in each engagement, God always allowed some truth to surface before actually saying “I Do.” Each of these encounters were great lessons assisting me in my growth. Therefore, this “Little Girl Lost” still had some growing and healing to do before marriage.

I went to church with a friend one Sunday and felt God tugging on my heart so I opened up and let Him in. I gave up dancing, sexing, partying and smoking. I began working as a GSA Security Guard in government buildings (go figure! God can do anything!). God gave me so many ideas that I began seeking to speak again. I met Patrice & Gina Tsague who had an organization called Muticultural Youth Organization and I began to speak all over the DC Metropolitan area again, telling my story. Mentoring young girls. I created a positive T-shirt line with slogans such as “Face life head on,” “I am a Black Man…I don’t rob, steal or kill, now what?” “I am a Black Queen” to name a few. I began writing poetry and creating Poetry Plaques to sell. I was a natural creative hustler. I was being called on by Mayor Marion Barry, speaking on the same podiums as Eric Holder, Jim Vance and many others. I was doing what I loved.

The mentoring was beginning to take a toll on me. I wasn’t prepared for some of the nightmares these young girls were living. They were going through things that grown women couldn’t imagine and me, in my twenties was still grasping my own life. Their stories were making the “Little Girl Lost” slowly retreat to that corner. I would try to take them to church with me, out to eat with my kids and I and to museums/movies, etc…

That old negative tape began to play over and over in my head. What if you aren’t enough? How are you going to help these young girls when you don’t even love yourself enough yet? What if? What if? I couldn’t cope and I began smoking weed again, heavily. I started messing up my money mixing business and personal, taking bad business risks and before you knew it, it was the year 1998 and I had to file bankruptcy. My phones stopped ringing almost instantly due to bad choices! I was so devastated that I tried to take my own life by taking some pills. While drinking the charcoal at the hospital, I thought about how low I had fallen. My Spirit was broken and I could not see a way out of my own way…BUT GOD! I thought about my two beautiful children with each drink of charcoal to clear my stomach. What had I done? What was I doing? I went through many therapeutic sessions; some one on one and some with women whose problems seemed much bigger than mine. That experience had yet to hold much value in my life. I discreetly left the hospital and debated on ever sharing this with anyone.

In the meantime, my children and I had nowhere to go until a co-worker that I barely spoke to offered us a room in her apartment because we shared a mutual friend. I felt like such a failure, all I had left was my truck and job. I sat in my truck day in and day out reflecting, blaming, talking down to myself, having conversations with God, myself…trying to figure out how and why I got us in this situation. It was past time I take responsibility for all of the decisions I made in life, in love, in finances. I sat down and retraced my steps, owned up to all of the mistakes I made and asked God for forgiveness. His forgiveness was the easy part, forgiving myself was the challenge. God is so awesome in all that He does because in that time of dire need, he used someone that I never would have expected to help my children and I and had her open her home to us. I began to thank God and appreciate His blessings and His love for me.

We stayed in that room inside of my co-worker’s apartment for about two months before I was able to get another apartment. Can I tell you once I got the keys to our new place, I literally kissed the floor! We were all so excited to be back in something we could call our own. Before long, things were moving along and all was well…on the surface.

http://www.sanjojendayi.com

*This entry is a part of a continuous series, reading the previous entries will help you follow without missing a beat*I still had some inner demons lurking because the adult me was still trying to nurture, heal, love and raise the “Little Girl Lost” but she was stuck in this self-love part. I really had not even begun to scratch the surface in this area. I still felt a gaping hole within and longed for it to be filled and since sex was the thing I knew made me feel loved however temporary, I needed a man.

I had several relationships during this time but I was so insecure and it showed up in many ways. Every failed relationship in my mind was a confirmation that I was unlovable. I began focusing on my children and became super independent, so much so that guys began to tell me that I was too strong. I acted like I didn’t need a man. My rebuttal was always, “if you not man enough to handle me, then move on”. Whew! I was a pistol cocked and loaded! I started thinking I would get them before they get me so sex became my focus with relationships and if they got hurt in the process so be it. I ended up having a total of 5 abortions in my lifetime and a few miscarriages including the lost of twins. I was all over the place mentally and emotionally. Some nights I would blame my father for this because if he hadn’t left me, if only he had loved me enough to stay, if he had took care of me I would be better at this relationship thing, right?

Wrong! That is not taking responsibility. No one was to blame and no one could pull me out of this but me and the decisions I make from this point forward! Now I just need to figure out how! Lord, how do I get out of my own way?

The “Little Girl Lost” began to weep and I could feel her pulling further away back to her corner so I began to cry out for both of us:

Lord, I’ve been loving wrong for too long and it’s time to stop

I thought I was loving from my heart

But, you’re showing me that my love was dark

I wasn’t loving healthily and it’s been killing me

Even in my loving you, dark love was all I knew

So it’s been hard accepting that you could love me

after all I’ve been through

I’ve been abandoned and rejected at such an early age

Which led to people-pleasing and making plenty of mistakes

The child in me screaming, “I’m lovable” to everyone I meet

“I’m over here…Love me! Love me!”

Teach me to love God

Unconditionally, inwardly because it must begin with me

To accept that you love me in spite of myself

Loving me is the first step to loving anyone else

And I want this Lord

I’m ready to do the work

I’m hungry for it

I want to throw away the hurt

I once heard when the student is ready, the Teacher will appear

Well, I am ready to heal

And now my heart is open

I’m teachable, begging for freedom

Perfect love cast out all fear

So teach me to love Lord

Fearlessly, wholeheartedly and completely

Just as You love me.

“Little Girl Lost” eyes lit up as she ran back into my arms and hugged me tight!

http://www.sanjojendayi.com

*This entry is a part of a continuous series, reading the previous entries will help you follow without missing a beat*

Whew, honey rescuing the “Little Girl Lost” does not happen without some self-realization and confession. I had to guide the “Little Girl Lost” to confront my own demons and admit my part in this mess which was my life. I had become a prisoner of my own mind and it was high time for things to change.

Now that I acknowledge the “Little Girl Lost”, I am responsible for nurturing her and loving her in an effort to become whole with myself. Looking at the Woman in the mirror and telling truth to me was not easy, in fact it was downright painful.

I had to admit to myself the bad choices I made along the way…noooo, that was too much and I wasn’t quite ready for that type of responsibility. Besides I am the single mother of a little girl of my own.

There was this guy that was my friend for a few years but I always thought he was a cutie but I had a friend who was sexing him so I left it alone. My girlfriend that was sexing him had a boyfriend too so the day that our male friend asked us to go to the movies and she declined…I didn’t think twice about going.

Let’s call him “James” (name changed to protect the guilty) and I enjoyed the movie, went back to his house to watch the game and he threw a football at me. We started wrestling on his bed which quickly turned to kissing and before you knew it, we were naked wondering how we were gonna tell our girlfriend.

Needless to say, I told her because I didn’t want her to hear it from someone else and she rightfully cursed me out. I let her because it was wrong, I allowed her the time to vent about the situation but James and I had such a common bond and we were going places.

The friendship ended and James and I grew closer and closer together. By age 21 I was pregnant with my son. “No time to work on me”, or so I thought.

My son was by James, the love of my life…we are going to be a family. It seemed like this was true for awhile because he loved my daughter like she was his own, our son and me. We didn’t have much money but we did everything together. Problems began to arise when the streets grabbed a hold of him and he was starting to change a little bit, more controlling and demanding. I won’t tell his story…that is for him to do so I’ll just end it with our relationship became very volatile and he too, put hands on me…we fought a few times and finally broke up when I caught him cheating as well and he bruised my ribs. He told me no man was ever going to want me for more than sex and you know what? I believed him.

Life was rough…I had come to depend on James for everything. I really loved that man and now I had two kids with no job. Everything I owned, James bought and when he left, he took it all with him including panties and shoes. I had to find a job but how? I had no clothes!

My girlfriend who was a few sizes bigger than me at the time let me borrow some of her clothes to go on interviews. And so I did, pins tucking and hiding the size difference and I landed a job at Casual Corner- a clothing store. I was so excited! I purchased an outfit or two with my discount every payday. Not to mention, back then I was dating a hustler or two so it didn’t take long for my wardrobe to be back on point. I wanted my own money so I began doing little “favors” for dudes to earn my own cash. Sometimes these favors would take me out of town on day trips to pick up packages, shop and come home.

That dried up fast when one of the dudes got killed in NY on a trip I was supposed to be on. No more for me. I still needed that cash though because I needed to feed and clothe my kids and neither of their father’s were doing too much since they were beefing with me.

One day I was partying and a dude mentioned how tight my body was and how I could make a lot of money.  He said his boy was getting married and he wanted to throw him a hotel bachelor party…long story short; that was my first dancing gig.  I made $750 in one night dancing butterball naked with a mask on. Why a mask, you ask? For some reason, I always knew that I was going to make it far in this life and I didn’t want anyone coming back with a videotape of me dancing to throw in my face. It sounds crazy right? But I figured if I wore a mask, they would have to prove it. Yes, in the midst of all my dirt…I was still aware of my destiny. I recruited a partner in this and we began doing private parties every weekend with me paying her a cut. I had to get drunk and high to do this because I hated it. I hated dancing naked in front of strangers. I hated the girl on girl play for extra cash. I hated the propositions from married men. I began to loath men. I began to loath sex. I used sex as a tool to get what I wanted and I was very good at it. But I hated it. I was lonely. I was definitely playing out what James’ parting words to me were…no man would want me for more than sex.

During this time I was also introduced to “making pick up runs” for an old friend that paid extremely well for a few hours of my time on a Saturday. One day I was doing one of my runs shopping in NY when I had a very disturbing vision about these runs so needless to say, I made that one my last one and good thing too because in the coming weeks, everything hit the fan for those who remained. God pulled me out just in the nick of time, yet again.

http://www.sanjojendayi.com

*This entry is a part of a continuous series, reading the previous entries will help you follow without missing a beat*

Whew, honey rescuing the ���Little Girl Lost��� does not happen without some self-realization and confession. I had to guide the ���Little Girl Lost��� to confront my own demons and admit my part in this mess which was my life. I had become a prisoner of my own mind and it was high time for things to change.

Now that I acknowledge the ���Little Girl Lost���, I am responsible for nurturing her and loving her in an effort to become whole with myself. Looking at the Woman in the mirror and telling truth to me was not easy, in fact it was downright painful.

I had to admit to myself the bad choices I made along the way���noooo, that was too much and I wasn���t quite ready for that type of responsibility. Besides I am the single mother of a little girl of my own.

There was this guy that was my friend for a few years but I always thought he was a cutie but I had a friend who was sexing him so I left it alone. My girlfriend that was sexing him had a boyfriend too so the day that our male friend asked us to go to the movies and she declined���I didn���t think twice about going.

Let���s call him ���James��� (name changed to protect the guilty) and I enjoyed the movie, went back to his house to watch the game and he threw a football at me. We started wrestling on his bed which quickly turned to kissing and before you knew it, we were naked wondering how we were gonna tell our girlfriend.

Needless to say, I told her because I didn���t want her to hear it from someone else and she rightfully cursed me out. I let her because it was wrong, I allowed her the time to vent about the situation but James and I had such a common bond and we were going places.

The friendship ended and James and I grew closer and closer together. By age 21 I was pregnant with my son. ���No time to work on me���, or so I thought.

My son was by James, the love of my life���we are going to be a family. It seemed like this was true for awhile because he loved my daughter like she was his own, our son and me. We didn���t have much money but we did everything together. Problems began to arise when the streets grabbed a hold of him and he was starting to change a little bit, more controlling and demanding. I won���t tell his story���that is for him to do so I���ll just end it with our relationship became very volatile and he too, put hands on me���we fought a few times and finally broke up when I caught him cheating as well and he bruised my ribs. He told me no man was ever going to want me for more than sex and you know what? I believed him.

Life was rough���I had come to depend on James for everything. I really loved that man and now I had two kids with no job. Everything I owned, James bought and when he left, he took it all with him including panties and shoes. I had to find a job but how? I had no clothes!

My girlfriend who was a few sizes bigger than me at the time let me borrow some of her clothes to go on interviews. And so I did, pins tucking and hiding the size difference and I landed a job at Casual Corner- a clothing store. I was so excited! I purchased an outfit or two with my discount every payday. Not to mention, back then I was dating a hustler or two so it didn���t take long for my wardrobe to be back on point. I wanted my own money so I began doing little ���favors��� for dudes to earn my own cash. Sometimes these favors would take me out of town on day trips to pick up packages, shop and come home.

That dried up fast when one of the dudes got killed in NY on a trip I was supposed to be on. No more for me. I still needed that cash though because I needed to feed and clothe my kids and neither of their father���s were doing too much since they were beefing with me.

One day I was partying and a dude mentioned how tight my body was and how I could make a lot of money.�� He said his boy was getting married and he wanted to throw him a hotel bachelor party���long story short; that was my first dancing gig.�� I made $750 in one night dancing butterball naked with a mask on. Why a mask, you ask? For some reason, I always knew that I was going to make it far in this life and I didn���t want anyone coming back with a videotape of me dancing to throw in my face. It sounds crazy right? But I figured if I wore a mask, they would have to prove it. Yes, in the midst of all my dirt���I was still aware of my destiny. I recruited a partner in this and we began doing private parties every weekend with me paying her a cut. I had to get drunk and high to do this because I hated it. I hated dancing naked in front of strangers. I hated the girl on girl play for extra cash. I hated the propositions from married men. I began to loath men. I began to loath sex. I used sex as a tool to get what I wanted and I was very good at it. But I hated it. I was lonely. I was definitely playing out what James��� parting words to me were���no man would want me for more than sex.

During this time I was also introduced to ���making pick up runs��� for an old friend that paid extremely well for a few hours of my time on a Saturday. One day I was doing one of my runs shopping in NY when I had a very disturbing vision about these runs so needless to say, I made that one my last one and good thing too because in the coming weeks, everything hit the fan for those who remained. God pulled me out just in the nick of time, yet again.

http://www.sanjojendayi.com

*This entry is a part of a continuous series, reading the previous entries will help you follow without missing a beat* Two years later, I ran for State President and won presiding over 38 DC Chapters consisting of about 799 members at the tender age of 14. Who said dreams can’t come true? I was living my dreams and traveling all over the metropolitan area speaking to my peers and adults. Mrs. Collins coached me, purchased red and white business suits for me, taught me dining etiquette and introduced me to the late Dr. Cleeretta H. Smiley who together groomed me for my biggest challenge yet. I became the youngest FHA member to run for National President, speaking in front of thousands at an FHA convention in Chicago. I didn’t win that election but the experience was priceless! My junior high school years all but erased my memories of innocence.

The very topics that I was speaking against: peer pressure, drugs, sex, etc…were about to steal it, or shall I say borrow it because to steal would mean I was not a willing party in the taking of my innocence. I found some pornography tapes that I chose to watch and they awakened something that I didn’t even know existed as they chipped away at my innocence. My peers teased me about everything like being a nerd, always reading and speaking; they called me teacher’s pet more times than I could count. They would get angry because I would rather sit in the house and read than come outside. I think I was one of the very few kids to grow up in Southeast, DC and not know how to play cards and not care much for fried chicken or watermelon.

I was a dark skinned, skinny, pigeon-toed teenage girl. I had developed a very bad case of acne so I was teased and called rocky mountain; the other kids would say let’s play a game of connect the dots on Desi’s face. I was called black ugly monkey, grease monkey and a few names I dare not to repeat here. I was teased about my clothes because I couldn’t afford what other kids were wearing. I wore thrift store clothes or my mom would surprise us sometimes with an outfit from McBride’s or Mortons. I would be hyped about my new outfit, only to get teased because it came from the “cheap stores”. This began to cut deep and make me question how I felt about me, chipping further away at my innocence and my Spirit. My mom’s and my relationship began to suffer during the height of my FHA years; we were constantly going at it about my trips and what my teachers were doing for me.

One hot day in the summer of 1984, some peers challenged me to be cool and dared me to hit the joint that they were about to smoke. I had been around them smoking before but never indulged because I would think back to that day at my brother’s father house when I got sick smoking and drinking and I thought it was stupid. This day, after a full day of teasing and in a last minute decision to ditch my “good girl” image…I took a puff, and then another until I was laughing hysterically at anything and nothing. I didn’t seem to have a care in the world and surprisingly, I liked it. The straight A, State President of FHA had just made a choice that would change her life for years to come.

I was starting to want my own money so I would cornrow a male extended family member’s hair for a little extra change when during one of these sessions; he would slowly and slyly rub my foot against his penis as it would grow hard. It freaked me out at first but I didn’t tell my mother about it because I wanted to make the money. This occurred a few more times before I just told my mom I didn’t want to do his hair anymore and she said ok, no questions asked. I decided the following year to look for love. Someone was going to love me…all that stuff people said about me and the names they called me was about to change. I lost my virginity at 14 to one of the most popular boys in school. You couldn’t tell me anything because he wanted ME out of all the girls in the school!

Well, I soon found out it wasn’t me he wanted but my cookies and he took all I was willing to give in a short period of time before he started acting different and left me.  I felt so empty. I wanted to feel wanted again, loved. So I started going out with this “older guy” who was about 19 with a car and a motorcycle. Shoot, he was a man and yes, he wanted me. He would take me out to eat and then to a motel. I would lie to my mother about my whereabouts until my lies caught up with me. He paid to get my hair done and bought me my first designer bag, a Fendi. My young and naïve tail had no idea what I was doing but I was playing grown up for sure! That got me pregnant at 15 and left alone to have the first of many abortions. You would have thought that taught me a lesson but no, it just taught me to play the game a little smarter.  I started working after school to help out at home and get me some new clothes to look good.

Oh, I didn’t mention that my feet were turned in so badly that I would trip over my own feet. My mom took me to an orthopedic doctor who decided that I needed surgery to straighten my feet because the bone was turning in at the hip. The procedure was called an Osteotomy and the doctor cut the bone at the hip, turned it and put a metal plate in for one year that would help the bone heal straight. That left me on crutches for 6 months and then a repeat of the process when I had the plate removed a year later. Oh, and I had outgrown the seizures by now too and I no longer had to take dilantin.

http://www.sanjojendayi.com

*This entry is a part of a continuous series, reading the previous entries will help you follow without missing a beat* Two years later, I ran for State President and won presiding over 38 DC Chapters consisting of about 799 members at the tender age of 14. Who said dreams can���t come true? I was living my dreams and traveling all over the metropolitan area speaking to my peers and adults. Mrs. Collins coached me, purchased red and white business suits for me, taught me dining etiquette and introduced me to the late Dr. Cleeretta H. Smiley who together groomed me for my biggest challenge yet. I became the youngest FHA member to run for National President, speaking in front of thousands at an FHA convention in Chicago. I didn���t win that election but the experience was priceless! My junior high school years all but erased my memories of innocence.

The very topics that I was speaking against: peer pressure, drugs, sex, etc���were about to steal it, or shall I say borrow it because to steal would mean I was not a willing party in the taking of my innocence. I found some pornography tapes that I chose to watch and they awakened something that I didn���t even know existed as they chipped away at my innocence. My peers teased me about everything like being a nerd, always reading and speaking; they called me teacher���s pet more times than I could count. They would get angry because I would rather sit in the house and read than come outside. I think I was one of the very few kids to grow up in Southeast, DC and not know how to play cards and not care much for fried chicken or watermelon.

I was a dark skinned, skinny, pigeon-toed teenage girl. I had developed a very bad case of acne so I was teased and called rocky mountain; the other kids would say let���s play a game of connect the dots on Desi���s face. I was called black ugly monkey, grease monkey and a few names I dare not to repeat here. I was teased about my clothes because I couldn���t afford what other kids were wearing. I wore thrift store clothes or my mom would surprise us sometimes with an outfit from McBride���s or Mortons. I would be hyped about my new outfit, only to get teased because it came from the ���cheap stores���. This began to cut deep and make me question how I felt about me, chipping further away at my innocence and my Spirit. My mom���s and my relationship began to suffer during the height of my FHA years; we were constantly going at it about my trips and what my teachers were doing for me.

One hot day in the summer of 1984, some peers challenged me to be cool and dared me to hit the joint that they were about to smoke. I had been around them smoking before but never indulged because I would think back to that day at my brother���s father house when I got sick smoking and drinking and I thought it was stupid. This day, after a full day of teasing and in a last minute decision to ditch my ���good girl��� image���I took a puff, and then another until I was laughing hysterically at anything and nothing. I didn���t seem to have a care in the world and surprisingly, I liked it. The straight A, State President of FHA had just made a choice that would change her life for years to come.

I was starting to want my own money so I would cornrow a male extended family member���s hair for a little extra change when during one of these sessions; he would slowly and slyly rub my foot against his penis as it would grow hard. It freaked me out at first but I didn���t tell my mother about it because I wanted to make the money. This occurred a few more times before I just told my mom I didn���t want to do his hair anymore and she said ok, no questions asked. I decided the following year to look for love. Someone was going to love me���all that stuff people said about me and the names they called me was about to change. I lost my virginity at 14 to one of the most popular boys in school. You couldn���t tell me anything because he wanted ME out of all the girls in the school!

Well, I soon found out it wasn���t me he wanted but my cookies and he took all I was willing to give in a short period of time before he started acting different and left me.�� I felt so empty. I wanted to feel wanted again, loved. So I started going out with this ���older guy��� who was about 19 with a car and a motorcycle. Shoot, he was a man and yes, he wanted me. He would take me out to eat and then to a motel. I would lie to my mother about my whereabouts until my lies caught up with me. He paid to get my hair done and bought me my first designer bag, a Fendi. My young and na��ve tail had no idea what I was doing but I was playing grown up for sure! That got me pregnant at 15 and left alone to have the first of many abortions. You would have thought that taught me a lesson but no, it just taught me to play the game a little smarter. ��I started working after school to help out at home and get me some new clothes to look good.

Oh, I didn���t mention that my feet were turned in so badly that I would trip over my own feet. My mom took me to an orthopedic doctor who decided that I needed surgery to straighten my feet because the bone was turning in at the hip. The procedure was called an Osteotomy and the doctor cut the bone at the hip, turned it and put a metal plate in for one year that would help the bone heal straight. That left me on crutches for 6 months and then a repeat of the process when I had the plate removed a year later. Oh, and I had outgrown the seizures by now too and I no longer had to take dilantin.

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*This entry is a part of a continuous series, reading the previous entries will help you follow without missing a beat*

The year was 1987 and drugs were all over. The guys were driving flashy cars and dressing really nice, smelling good and writing their phone numbers on $20-100 dollar bills depending on how they were balling and how much they wanted to impress. I was hanging around the way when this dude with a tricked out maxima pulled up on me.

“Hey baby, can I holla at you for a minute?” I looked into the car and saw this fine chocolate dude so I slowly walked over to the car with my hips swinging to the beat of their own drum. He gave me his number on a $100 dollar bill and told me to call him later because he wanted to treat me real special. I couldn’t wait to call him when I got home! That night we talked for hours about anything and nothing. We set up a date for the following weekend. The day came for our date and he took me to a place called Crisfields to eat seafood. We had a great time and then he took me home. I didn’t hesitate the next day when he asked if I wanted to go to the movies.

My mom was home so I met him around the way and we drove to Virginia to the movies. On the ride back he put his hand on my thigh and said, “girl, I’m gonna make you mines” and I was in heaven. Instead of taking me right home he said he wanted to stop by his place to change. I didn’t think anything of it. We get to his place and he goes straight to the back while I sit on the couch. Walking back out towards me with no shirt on, he lifts my chin and kisses me sweetly. His tongue dancing with my tongue and then he trailed kisses down my neck that felt so good.  I remember him standing me up and us kissing and walking to his room. I was ready but when he started nibbling on my breast through my shirt and the thought hit me that I wanted to do things differently this time…I stopped him.  “Not tonight, let’s go slow and continue to get to know each other”, I whispered trying to straighten my clothes. He lifted my shirt anyway and I hit his hand and said, “Stop, I’m serious! I’m ready to go home” but just as I went to stand up, he shoved me back on the bed. “STOPPPPPPPPP,” I yelled, kicking and squirming under the pressure of his body weight. I screamed again only for him to put his hand over my mouth, look me in my eyes with a deadly look saying, “shut the fuck up, this MY pussy and I’m taking it tonight! Scream again and I will kill your ass!” I followed his gaze to the nightstand where there was a gun partially visible under his t-shirt he had taken off.

The rest went by in a daze as he lifted my tennis skirt and ripped my panties off, tears streamed down my face. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. I was numb. He finished his business and went into the bathroom taking the gun with him. Good thing, because I probably would’ve been writing this book from a jail cell. I took my ripped panties and wiped the blood and semen from my legs and I began walking home in a daze.  I don’t remember how long it took to get home because he didn’t live close but I walked and walked and walked right into my house, into the shower and then fell on my bed crying myself to sleep. I was afraid to tell anyone for fear of them saying I caused it, it was my fault. A part of me shut completely down that night. The hole in my soul was getting wider and wider. I never told anyone about the rape, actually managed to block it completely out of my mind until a few years ago.

Shortly after, I started having chest pains and I went back to the doctor for them to diagnose me with Mitral Valve Prolapse and put me on a portable heart monitor for a little while. I hated that thing! My principal at Eastern High School called me into the office one day because he thought I had a walkman on and he was going to discipline me until I explained that it was a heart monitor. I was so tired of stuff happening to me and I really believed that I was not worthy of love, “in my mind” my thoughts were what had I done for God to allow all of this to happen to me, so many people to dislike me including my mom and dad.

I was a mess! I was having sex like a nymphomaniac and not even for the joy of it but more for the feeling in that brief few minutes that someone loved me. Then I met my first real boyfriend and he loved me so much that he started hitting me when I would do something that he didn’t like. We had a rocky relationship to say the least; full of fighting, yelling screaming, death threats and all. We had a big argument and broke up after about 1 1/2 years and one morning  I cut school to have sex with this guy from school that flirted with me my entire 3 years in high school. He was cute, sexy and most of all, he wanted me. That night my abusive boyfriend came back crying about how sorry he was and we too had sex. That was the day I conceived, I was 17 and pregnant. My High school counselor told me how disappointed she was, how I had just made the biggest mistake of my life and was not going to graduate with my class but end up a statistic.

Well, I used that to fuel my drive and was determined to prove her wrong.  March 7, 1988, I gave birth to the most beautiful girl in the world, my daughter SeKeithia. June, 1988 I graduated with my class. I didn’t have the first clue about being a mother but I knew I loved my baby and I was going to do right by her…if only I really knew what love consisted of.

To sum up my childhood, there was a paternity test done to identify the father between the high school crush and the abusive boyfriend who dragged me out of a club, beat me and finally broke my collar bone in a public fight in the street over him cheating. In another fight I tried to stab him with a butter knife after he smacked me. We finally broke up for good because I was tired of fighting; after all it was evident that he didn’t love me.

I end this chapter by returning to the rescue of the “Little Girl Lost.” This is a continuing journey because the little girl did not get lost overnight, therefore you will not heal her overnight so allow yourself the time and space to nourish and heal, to cradle your wounded parts like a newborn child with delicate touches, loving hugs and kisses. You can choose to begin the reflection process and rescue alone or with a trained counselor. At some point you will need to call in the troops to assist in the rescue (we’ll talk about that later).

Just a few years ago, I began the process through reflection and dissection. I had to cut through a lot of weeds and bushes of pain to get to her but I finally found her balled up in a corner of my psyche in the fetal position still weeping. I spoke gently to her, coaxing her to lay her head on my shoulder, to trust that I wasn’t there to hurt her.  I told her that she was loved and adored, how God formed her wonderfully and fearfully. I began to nourish her with all that I had learned as an adult.

We spoke about all of the things that she had endured, all of the feelings that she had felt, and I allowed her to just cry…let it all out. This was the beginning of something real…

*This entry is a part of a continuous series, reading the previous entries will help you follow without missing a beat*

The year was 1987 and drugs were all over. The guys were driving flashy cars and dressing really nice, smelling good and writing their phone numbers on $20-100 dollar bills depending on how they were balling and how much they wanted to impress. I was hanging around the way when this dude with a tricked out maxima pulled up on me.

���Hey baby, can I holla at you for a minute?��� I looked into the car and saw this fine chocolate dude so I slowly walked over to the car with my hips swinging to the beat of their own drum. He gave me his number on a $100 dollar bill and told me to call him later because he wanted to treat me real special. I couldn���t wait to call him when I got home! That night we talked for hours about anything and nothing. We set up a date for the following weekend. The day came for our date and he took me to a place called Crisfields to eat seafood. We had a great time and then he took me home. I didn���t hesitate the next day when he asked if I wanted to go to the movies.

My mom was home so I met him around the way and we drove to Virgina to the movies. On the ride back he put his hand on my thigh and said, ���girl, I���m gonna make you mines��� and I was in heaven. Instead of taking me right home he said he wanted to stop by his place to change. I didn���t think anything of it. We get to his place and he goes straight to the back while I sit on the couch. Walking back out towards me with no shirt on, he lifts my chin and kisses me sweetly. His tongue dancing with my tongue and then he trailed kisses down my neck that felt so good. ��I remember him standing me up and us kissing and walking to his room. I was ready but when he started nibbling on my breast through my shirt and the thought hit me that I wanted to do things differently this time���I stopped him.�� ���Not tonight, let���s go slow and continue to get to know each other���, I whispered trying to straighten my clothes. He lifted my shirt anyway and I hit his hand and said, ���Stop, I���m serious! I���m ready to go home��� but just as I went to stand up, he shoved me back on the bed. ���STOPPPPPPPPP,��� I yelled, kicking and squirming under the pressure of his body weight. I screamed again only for him to put his hand over my mouth, look me in my eyes with a deadly look saying, ���shut the fuck up, this MY pussy and I���m taking it tonight! Scream again and I will kill your ass!��� I followed his gaze to the nightstand where there was a gun partially visible under his t-shirt he had taken off.

The rest went by in a daze as he lifted my tennis skirt and ripped my panties off, tears streamed down my face. I didn���t move. I couldn���t move. I was numb. He finished his business and went into the bathroom taking the gun with him. Good thing, because I probably would���ve been writing this book from a jail cell. I took my ripped panties and wiped the blood and semen from my legs and I began walking home in a daze.�� I don���t remember how long it took to get home because he didn���t live close but I walked and walked and walked right into my house, into the shower and then fell on my bed crying myself to sleep. I was afraid to tell anyone for fear of them saying I caused it, it was my fault. A part of me shut completely down that night. The hole in my soul was getting wider and wider. I never told anyone about the rape, actually managed to block it completely out of my mind until a few years ago.

Shortly after, I started having chest pains and I went back to the doctor for them to diagnose me with Mitral Valve Prolapse and put me on a portable heart monitor for a little while. I hated that thing! My principal at Eastern High School called me into the office one day because he thought I had a walkman on and he was going to discipline me until I explained that it was a heart monitor. I was so tired of stuff happening to me and I really believed that I was not worthy of love, ���in my mind��� my thoughts were what had I done for God to allow all of this to happen to me, so many people to dislike me including my mom and dad.

I was a mess! I was having sex like a nymphomaniac and not even for the joy of it but more for the feeling in that brief few minutes that someone loved me. Then I met my first real boyfriend and he loved me so much that he started hitting me when I would do something that he didn���t like. We had a rocky relationship to say the least; full of fighting, yelling screaming, death threats and all. We had a big argument and broke up after about 1 1/2 years and one morning�� I cut school to have sex with this guy from school that flirted with me my entire 3 years in high school. He was cute, sexy and most of all, he wanted me. That night my abusive boyfriend came back crying about how sorry he was and we too had sex. That was the day I conceived, I was 17 and pregnant. My High school counselor told me how disappointed she was, how I had just made the biggest mistake of my life and was not going to graduate with my class but end up a statistic.

Well, I used that to fuel my drive and was determined to prove her wrong.�� March 7, 1988, I gave birth to the most beautiful girl in the world, my daughter SeKeithia. June, 1988 I graduated with my class. I didn���t have the first clue about being a mother but I knew I loved my baby and I was going to do right by her���if only I really knew what love consisted of.

To sum up my childhood, there was a paternity test done to identify the father between the high school crush and the abusive boyfriend who dragged me out of a club, beat me and finally broke my collar bone in a public fight in the street over him cheating. In another fight I tried to stab him with a butter knife after he smacked me. We finally broke up for good because I was tired of fighting; after all it was evident that he didn���t love me.

I end this chapter by returning to the rescue of the ���Little Girl Lost.��� This is a continuing journey because the little girl did not get lost overnight, therefore you will not heal her overnight so allow yourself the time and space to nourish and heal, to cradle your wounded parts like a newborn child with delicate touches, loving hugs and kisses. You can choose to begin the reflection process and rescue alone or with a trained counselor. At some point you will need to call in the troops to assist in the rescue (we���ll talk about that later).

Just a few years ago, I began the process through reflection and dissection. I had to cut through a lot of weeds and bushes of pain to get to her but I finally found her balled up in a corner of my psyche in the fetal position still weeping. I spoke gently to her, coaxing her to lay her head on my shoulder, to trust that I wasn���t there to hurt her.�� I told her that she was loved and adored, how God formed her wonderfully and fearfully. I began to nourish her with all that I had learned as an adult.

We spoke about all of the things that she had endured, all of the feelings that she had felt, and I allowed her to just cry���let it all out. This was the beginning of something real���