Speaking My truth and healing is a part of this journey.

I was born in February of 1976 and lived my life in a small town where everyone knows everyone. Sadly, at a young age men showed me what was needed from me to prove I loved them. Being molested at a young age, all I knew was, sex will make him show me some attention. Attention I wasn’t getting at home from my father or my mother. We looked like the Huxtubles from the outside, but it was more like low budget Tyler Perry movie behind closed doors. The emotional and mental abuse and lack of conversation about things young girls need to know to ensure she's able to protect herself outside of those four walls called home. The whippings out of frustation, leaving two young girls to fend for themselves while the mother throws herself into her working night shift jobs or out shopping for hours, while an alcoholic father was home putting the wifely/motherly duties onto my sister and me. We were way too young to be doing and knowing the things we did. Doing and hanging out laundry, ironing his work clothes, cooking dinner, cleaning the house and writing out checks to pay bills. This was all while in elementary school. The older we got the worse it got, and I always wondered why my mother put up with his craziness. But since she wasn't home with him as much as we were, I guess it didn't matter. My sister and I looked out for each other because each other is all we had. This is where the people pleasing began. At a young age I started to do whatever was needed to get the feeling of being seen and needed.