Dear LMN

The girl is nuts! She’s very obsessive and violent. She acts as if she doesn’t have common sense. What’s wrong with her? Why is she attempting to kill that guy? Why is she so clingy and needy? Is she talking to herself? She belongs in a mental institution. Poor guy doesn’t know what’s coming!


These are my thoughts when I watch the psycho movies on Lifetime or Lifetime Movie Network. I’m amazed at how weird and insane the young woman is on the television screen. I’m disgusted by her actions, by the faces she makes and her thought process. I cringe looking at the horrible things she’s planning in order to destroy that innocent family or embarrass that sweet young man she’s dating.


I sit ANXIOUSLY waiting to find out what her problem is. I wonder if her mother abandoned her as a child or her dad moved on to another family and she’s acting this way out of hurt. I, like many others form my own opinion of why she acts the way she does. I can’t wait for the movie to get halfway through so they can reveal why this girl is a nut job. I hate to watch because my kind heart is sad looking at all of the horrible things she’s doing, but I need to find out the plot to this story.


There it is, finally. Oh, no wonder this girl is such a mess, she’s a FOSTER kid! She was abandoned by her drug abusing mother as a young girl and bounced from home to home until she turned 18. It turned her mind into mush. She went temporarily insane because no one ever loved or wanted her. She doesn’t know how to love and treat people kind because she’s jealous of all who had a better life then hers. She can’t handle life because her’s was so uncontrollable. She needs help, she needs to be locked away, she needs medication.


Well Lifetime, NOT all foster children are a mess. Not all kids who didn’t have a stable home, grow up to be UNSTABLE. Some of us can handle what’s happened to us. The child abuse, rape, abandonment, and mistreatment didn’t destroy all of our minds. Some of us went down the right path based on the horrific things we’d experienced growing up. A lot of us learned about life in the worse way and used our pain to make the best out of our futures.


All of us ward of the states are not dangerous, mentally insane, obsessive, or angry with the world. Majority of us can cope in the real world as adults. So why does so many of your movies depict us as monsters with no conscience? Why is there so many movies of psychopaths that just have to be based on a former foster home upbringing? I will urge you to search out a former foster kid and get their story of struggle to success and stop painting the picture that we struggle the rest of our lives.


I am a former foster child. I was adopted and abused for years until the adoption broke by court order. I was molested during my time in foster care, abused, talked about, picked on and bullied for years. I grew up in and out of group homes and foster homes for over 8 years and guess WHAT, your assumption of me, IS NOT ME! Married with 4 children I’ve never physically harmed. Abandoned multiple times by multiple mothers; never stalked a boyfriend. Sexually assaulted by many young boys,;didn’t turn into a pedophile. Was bounced from home to home with no stability; lived in the same state since aging out of the system, not trying to run away from my past or from where my problems occurred.


I used the pain from my past to help heal others that needed me. I didn’t turn violent, rack up mug shots, turn to prostitution, or loose my mind, instead I shared my story. I used my pain to motivate, to never give up on myself or count myself out because everyone else did. I built a platform to encourage and inspire similar individuals by publishing a book detailing my journey and my fight to stay afloat. I started a nonprofit organization dedicated to struggling young women that need guidance, love and a hearing ear of someone that can relate.


So instead of making others afraid of us, persuading others to reconsider taking in a GOOD child that needs a home, how about doing your research and finding good stories to formulate into a movie. Paint the picture of the 75% that do make it out of a dark place and create a better future. We are not ALL BAD. We are not ALL CRAZY. We all deserve a chance to be someones son or daughter. Stop scaring off potential homes for our youth in need PLEASE!




A former foster kid without mental problems!

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Associate or Friend?

So…I’ve always wondered, “what is a friend?” How is a friend supposed to act? How do they interact with each other? How much time do they spend together? What’s considered TMI?

I’ve always wondered because I grew up without any stable relationships due to my upbringing in and out of foster care and group homes. I would always find that one person that I felt like I had a vibe with, and then BAM, they were moved, or I was!

I wanted to talk to them all the time. I wanted to play in their hair. I wanted to lay in the bed with them and kick my feet up while gossiping about boys and our home lives, but our time would be cut short before we got to that point. I remember that I was the oddball out kid. I sat with mostly special-ed kids on my lunch breaks and those were the type of people I interacted with in high school. I didn’t feel odd or embarrassed about hanging with them because they were the ones that accepted me. They were the ones that made me feel welcomed, comfortable and cared for.

I would sit and watch the other groups of “POPULAR” kids talk extra loud amongst each other, whisper, buy food, and eat off each other together. I would sometimes envy the normalcy. One thing that I never envied about those cliques, were the constant drama they kept up with other cliques and among each other. When I made it to high school, majority of my lunches were spent alone. I would eat in the senior lounge at a table, by MYSELF while groups of girls and guys hung out and played around. I was never asked to sit at a table with them, or if I wanted to join in on their conversations, it was like I wasn’t even in there with them, because I wasn’t a “cool kid.”

I noticed that those cliques in my high school were ALWAYS fighting, arguing, and accusing each other of things. It was like they were best friends one day, on the rocks the next, and enemies the following week. Come a month later, those same people that fought or argued were right back to bff’s and hanging in their little corner in the senior lounge. So I had to keep reminding myself that I didn’t want that type of trouble. I didn’t want to be fighting and arguing. I had enough fighting to do outside of the school making sure that I had somewhere to lay my head, and the “new” mom hadn’t put me out while at school. It was lonely, it was hurtful to just be left alone like that, and it was a trigger to my self esteem, but I never tried to force myself into anyone’s friendship because the fact they never tried to interact with me, spoke enough about them.

Now as an adult I ponder on my interpretation of friendship. I wonder if I have the idea of it, all wrong. I have lost numerous of friendships since becoming an adult. The way that I was treated by many, makes me believe that it wasn’t me, it was them. Majority of them had less then what I had and what I had was something they always wanted. Me being who I ‘used to be,’ always gave what I had. Giver, giver, never a taker and I got tired of that, so I’d shy away or they’d end up treating me bad and dissolving themselves from our friendships.

So here’s my interpretation of friendship:

1) You TALK to each other VERBALLY at least ONCE a week NOT TEXT each other ONCE a MONTH

2) You SEE each other at least ONCE a MONTH, NOT ONCE a YEAR if you both live in the same city

3) You don’t use family, children and relationships as a reason for not making a phone call for months

4) When one shares sad or detrimental news, you check on them the following day to see what state of mind their in and you continue to make sure their okay, until they tell you they don’t want to talk about it anymore, because friends can become depressed.

5) You support their dreams, and their business. You help them in any way that YOU can, to show you support their movement.

6) If you have an issue with them, you TELL them, NOT talk about them BEHIND their back!

7) You don’t stop talking to them or stop caring if they seem upset or hurt, you try and figure it out so that it can be fixed.

8) You don’t give up on them based one something that you’ve never talked to them about knowing that they’re unaware of what you’re upset about.

9) You make time for them rather it’s to talk or visit.

10) You be honest and upfront about whatever is going on so that the friendship doesn’t demise based on secrecy.

11) You don’t use SOCIAL MEDIA as a way to keep up with your friends. A Facebook page should not be used as a source of communication.

Everyone has time for something. People make time for what they want and who they want, so don’t use TIME as an excuse. If you know and care, you can set a reminder in your phone calendar to make a connection with your friend, you do the same for appointments and events, RIGHT?

If my friend started a business or something that they were really passionate about and I saw them giving it their all, I would promote to everyone I knew on their behalf. If they needed money to help get them going, and all I had was $5 or $10, I would donate it even if I had to use a credit card. My views of friendship, is full fledge support in every aspect.

If you can’t depend on those that call themselves your friends/family, who can you depend on? People really need to learn the true meaning of friendship, responsibilities and values of a good friendship.

I want the type of friendship that the girls off “Living Single” had. We play together, we laugh together, we hang together, we host dinners at each other homes, we plan vacations with each other and our spouses, we go out to eat and bowl with each other.

I want a friendship where I’m not the only one calling, while the other only texts once a month, AFTER I’ve called or texted them after not hearing from them since the LAST time I texted or called.

These are the things I deem to be considered a true friendship. Otherwise you’re an associate! Am I right or wrong?

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Relevancy Or Sympathy

Sometimes I think to myself, nobody cares about your sad story. I ponder over the idea of people thinking that I’m looking for sympathy, versus providing my story to others for comfort and healing.

The thing is I’m NOT looking for sympathy, but for IMPACT. I tell my story so that other people with stories similar to mines, can find comfort in knowing they are not alone and that someone else has made it through similar pains. I know the feeling of being alone and I hate to think that many are feeling the way I once felt, BEFORE I started sharing my story and finding comfort in people that had similar backgrounds.

I honestly believe that more people should be more open and honest about their pasts, and share their stories. Storytelling brings about healing for the one telling the story because it shows you care about the other persons feelings and FUTURE. Telling your story also helps the other person heal because they now know that they are not fighting a battle alone. Storytelling soothes and comforts the mind.

One might say to me;

Why would I tell someone else that I was addicted to drugs and turned to prostitution at a young age?”

My response is;

Where are you at now?” What kind of life are you living now?”

“Well I’m not doing that good financially, BUT, I’m no longer doing drugs and I’m not prostituting.”

EXACTLY! That’s my point! You can start out with a bad story full of pain and mistakes and end up with a good ending.

Many people don’t see good endings to their situations because NO ONE is willing to tell them it exists, because they’re too afraid to reveal they KNOW based on PERSONAL experience. The average person assumes you’re “just saying that” because you trying to be nice. If you let them know you’re saying it because, “You’ve been there, done that, and OVERCAME that,” they’re outlook on life would change. They would find hope through your testimony. Their outlook on life would be, “if she/he can do it, so can I.”

That’s why I share my story. That’s why I’m not afraid to let people know what I’ve been through. I give the bad, the sad, the pain, and the GOOD to show that there is a light at the end of the tunnel and that I am the living proof!

They don’t know, until they’re told. I believe in being a live example. My personal belief is that God gave us battles that he knew we were strong enough to fight and brave enough to talk about! I’m brave enough. I’ve shared my story, what’s yours?

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Looking For Me

I said I wasn’t going to do it. I just knew that I could keep it together. I thought to myself, “I snap back right after I have them.” I look like i’m about 17 years old, I’ll always have that look of being young and sexy. I didn’t even start trying to enhance my beauty until I was around 24 years old. My enhancement consisted of eye shadow, eyeliner and mascara. I felt like my natural beauty was enough, and I didn’t want to overdo it!Then I got a man, got engaged, got pregnant, bought a house and got married!

The engagement, was two years ago. I started to feel like, well I don’t want to be too sexy with a new man in my life. So away I did with all of my eye makeup. I took all of my income taxes to put towards the down payment on my home, so there was my money to buy appealing and sexy clothes and keep my wardrobe up-to-date. Then I had my baby and thought, “I’ll lose this weight in a few months like I did with my other two children.” Didn’t happen! So there I was dealing with a newborn, planning a wedding and this wedding was an additional financial burden.

I did my own hair for the wedding, and I did my own makeup. I couldn’t afford to pay someone for those little things. The guy who took the wedding pictures didn’t edit anything. So after the wedding there I am staring at what should be, beautiful pictures, and I’m seeing pimples, smudges of makeup around my eyes, the makeup that covered the tattoo on my chest was on my dress, my hair stuck out in the back, and my belly was huge from giving birth a month and a half prior.

Each one of those flaws stuck out to me like a sore thumb. I begin to question my beauty, my sexuality and my confidence level. I went back to work from my maternity leave looking like a mother. Not to mention two weeks before returning to work I was rushed to hospital for severe pain in my chest area. I was told I needed immediate gall bladder removal surgery three days after getting married. Imagine trying to carry a wiggly newborn with a sore aching belly!

Then my husband and I decided that I would stop working and work whole heartedly on Can We Talk? Inc, a nonprofit organization. So there was my drive to get my “sexy back”, straight into the trash. I no longer felt the reason to dress up, to do my hair or to keep my appearance fresh and sexy. Sweatpants, t-shirts, ponytails and ashy hands became my new fashion statement. Then I had my miscarriage, two weeks before our one year wedding anniversary. That was a huge slap in the face and a gigantic heartbreak. I felt like I couldn’t carry my baby because my womanly insides, had been torn and lost. I hadn’t even had a visit from mother nature since giving birth, so I knew it was my fault the baby passed away. If that wasn’t bad enough, the baby didn’t come out on its own. It had to be forced out by a miscarriage pill because it set inside of me dead for two weeks. By the time the PRC had it completely figured out, I was nine weeks along.

To see a baby that should have been growing and kicking around in your stomach, dead, was a blow to my life. I knew it was early, but the baby was still a part of me. It hurt me; it hurt my husband; it hurt us. The whole two years of our relationship has been so tough and hard to adjust to. I’ve lost myself in the midst of all the drama, trauma and pain. I don’t feel sexy, I don’t look sexy, I’m to the point where I just don’t care, I want to care, I try to care, but I just can’t. No, I’m not depressed, I’m just tired. I’m tired when I wake up and when I go to bed. I pray every night and morning for energy, for ambition and drive, but I can’t seem to follow through with the effort of it all.

I know that my self-esteem decline interferes with me and my husband’s intimacy. I know I don’t feel attractive and that’s why I’m not attracted. So I will continue to pray that I rediscover myself, that I rediscover my femininity, and that I gain the motivation to make myself feel and look beautiful again. This thing called marriage, commitment, motherhood, adulthood, is one of the hardest topics i’m learning. I’m learning my way so that I don’t continue to be lost! I think to myself I am an adult now, wow.

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Stepparent Confusion

I don’t have to listen to you! You can not tell me what to do! I don’t like you! I wish you weren’t here! You are not the boss of me! I’m telling my mom/dad!

These are some of the phrases a stepparent hears from their stepchildren.

The spouse is clueless nine times out of 10 on what they can or should do. They ask “can I” or “should I,” “how would you feel if I?” Can I tell you something, stepparents? Please do! Please do what it takes to earn the respect and manners of a child you have to deal with on a constant basis. I have two sons from a previous relationship. One has his biological dad who decided to become almost non-existent. The other, his father, was killed the day before his first birthday, so my husband is his father.

Me and my husband were raised completely different. We come from similar but different backgrounds. For one thing, he is Caucasian, I am African American. The discipline he experienced from his mother was more gentle than the average discipline techniques of the typical African American home. His mindset is let them go, let them get away with it. What I consider as a smart remark from a child, he says is just an honest opinion coming from them.

My upbringing was speak when spoken to, eat what you don’t like or go hungry, don’t say anything back after you’ve been confronted by an adult otherwise it’s considered having a smart mouth. My husband thinks it’s okay if my son says he doesn’t want to eat his vegetables. If I am not around, my husband will allow my sons to get away with anything.

He thinks I’m strict, I think he’s a pushover. I think that we both should be sticking to the same discipline methods in order to keep consistency in the home. I ask him to adhere to the way I’ve been raising them before he entered their life. He does it, for the most part. My husband gets so frustrated because he wants to do so much in terms of disciplining my boys, but doesn’t know if he can do half of what he thinks. He’s a rough man coming from a few years of child abuse, so he gets angry quite quickly and reacts before he thinks.

That’s where we clash. I feel like you should think about all surrounding circumstances of a child’s behavior or actions before you decide on how to approach a situation. My husband is a “react now, feel guilty after thinking about it later” kind of guy.

We both understand that we need to patient, loving and caring parents because those were a few of the things that we both did not receive during parts of our childhood. My main concern is does the punishment or form of discipline you want to use match the behavior? Is the punishment going to cause great physical or any emotional pain? Will the form of discipline used cause the children to think that we’re horrible parents when they grow older and more mature? Most importantly, is it something that we would or wouldn’t want done to us as children?

They might not be his blood, but they are his kids too because we are in this together, so I say go for what is best. No parent is perfect — even the biological ones! We level each other out because everyone makes mistakes during parenthood. We learn from each other!

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White & Black

The looks are obvious. I can read behind a facial expression. The looks of disgust are never ending. It’s like fighting a silent war. I don’t really look too deep into their faces because I know that my facial expressions can KILL.

I wear my heart on my sleeves so it’s hard for me to not be affected by the rudeness of others. I never thought before I made this decision, about the way others would view me. I for once wanted to be happy and not care about what others thought. I don’t care what they think now, but I will admit I get extremely agitated by some of the things I notice.

I continue to walk with my head held high because I know no one can judge me but God. I know that God would not have sent this man searching for me unless this was the one I was meant to live my life with. He doesn’t care or pay any attention to the ‘HATERS’ because he has went through this his entire life and is immune to the disrespect of others. I have never done this because I was always afraid of stepping outside of my comfort zone. I worried about what others would say or think if I stepped ‘outside the box.’

I did it anyway after years of being unhappy. I started to date a white man. He treated me like a queen. He was truly concerned about my well-being and my happiness. He still is. He is the BEST thing that has ever happened to me and I couldn’t ask for more. I am the ONLY thing that he needs in his life. He treats me as if I was the ONLY and LAST woman on earth. That white man that hunted me down after I left a family BBQ (he was the friend of someone attending) found someone that had my number and had them call me.

His first words to me was that I was beautiful. He captured my heart right then and there. Every man that I had ever dated always told me I was cute or pretty. Many said that my smile was beautiful but NONE had ever said, I was beautiful. 6 months after dating we were engaged. A year after meeting we were married. We just celebrated our one year anniversary August 2nd of this year. We have had some EVIL stares from people of both races. We have had people shake their heads when looking at us together, people turn their heads when they see us looking at them. I’ve noticed that most of those behaviors come from white couples.

What I have noticed about the African American side is that the MEN look very irritated and surprised when they see us together. A lot of them look slightly angry and they tend to look at me longer then necessary in inappropriate ways as if they’re trying to make my husband angry. I tell him not to worry about it because he has my heart unlike any other man ever has. We walk into some places with our daughter and she’ll just talk in her baby language (she’s only 1) and some people will blatantly ignore her, some act as if she isn’t sitting there near them at all.

I tell myself people not talking, looking, or interacting with you is a part of life PERIOD. Even if I wasn’t with a white man with a bi-racial child, someone would find SOMETHING about me to not like. That’s the way I have to look at the big picture to keep from being affected in a negative way by the negative reactions we experience CONSTANTLY. Our family’s are okay with it and that’s all that matters. We are okay with our choice and our family accepts our choice.

I HOPE ONE day that people will realize that love is love. Love is determined by actions, emotions and feelings, not by racial identity. I believe in love and I will love anyone that loves me despite color because love is hard to come by these days. I embrace all that I have been blessed with by dating and marrying my white husband. I’d do it a thousand times over if it meant I’d keep reliving the happiness he has brought me. No one else matters because they’re on the outside LOOKING in. I’m in the picture and it’s a beautiful one!

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Fulltime Mommy Zone

I remember thinking to myself, why do women that stay at home with their kids act like they’re really doing something? I was so jealous of them. I wished I could stay at home and watch t.v. all day, talk on my phone and go shopping all the time. I was envious of their laid back, relaxed life.

I became a stay at home mother this past May. Me and my husband just decided that the money spent on childcare wasn’t worth it. Plus our daycare lady was quite incoherent a few times that we picked our daughter up and it sparked concern. Better safe then sorry. The saying is go with your first mind, and that was to pull her out of there. So I quit my job to stay home with her (and my boys when summer break came around).

I must say this is the HARDEST job I’ve actually ever had. I’m moving and running around nonstop. I have two boys that are 7 and 9. They fight like they’re strangers to one another. I’m yelling, screaming, running down stairs and breaking up fights (thank God school is starting next week)all day!

I have a one year old daughter that runs through the house and disrupts EVERYTHING. She literally goes and pulls EVERY dvd off of my t.v. stand, JUST to throw them on the floor and then takes off. I wash the dishes, and she’s trying to climb inside the dishwasher when I place them in there to dry. I’m chasing, tapping her hand and saying NO all day and night.

A stay at home mom is the definition of a very hard worker. It is the definition of patience and dedication. You have to possess unconditional love to deal with hard-headed kids day in and day out. I’m a stay at home mom that doesn’t get too many breaks away from the chaos of my home because my support system consists of one person.

I wake up tired and get ready for bed even more tired. I no longer envy a stay at home mom, I feel bad for them if their day is anything like mines. Some days I think to myself that I am ready to go back into the workforce, but then I think about the precious time and love I am able to give my children full time. I question whether or not to just sit it out until I just can’t take it anymore.

Ladies and gentlemen, being a stay at home mom or dad does not mean that the other is not working, if anything their day has been much more fuller than yours. It’s close to being a single mother truth be told. I don’t think my husband realizes how much effort and energy goes into my day.

The laughter, joy, and engagement from my kids keeps me at home with them. Money isn’t everything, but everyone needs some type of getaway to relax their mind and spirit, I can’t wait until my time comes.

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Be Still

I’ve never had to be around or deal with anything or anyone for too long. As a ward of the state, I moved whenever conflict would arise. I was like a disposable toy. I was used when I was easy to give instruction to and returned when I no longer followed the directions. I wasn’t worth taking time with, I guess. I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind being given to different people because it allowed me to see and meet new people. Problem was although these meetings took place, a relationship could never form because I’d be moved shortly after the introductions.

Now, I’m married. I’m married with three kids. When I say this is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, I’m almost in tears everyday. It’s hard to figure out life as a mom or a wife. I can’t just up and leave behind every argument or disagreement. I can’t walk away and dispose of my children, because I know the pain behind it. I try so hard to sit still and deal with “it.” Dealing with the constant irritation of children acting out, fighting, running around and doing everything they are not supposed to do, is inevitable. I have to sit still in terms of dealing with the problems that arise.

Every time me and my husband experience a difficult time or conversation, my first instinct is to run. I instantly want a divorce. I just know that we aren’t meant to be together if we can’t agree on something. My subconscious mind thinks that conflict means disappear. Conflict to me is like a deadly disease and you just get rid of it ( eliminate the person and you eliminate the problem) I mean that’s how I’ve lived my life up until two years ago. I don’t want to sit still and deal with someone that has angered me or irritated me. I want to run from life, but I must sit still.

I’m dealing with learning to be stable. I’m learning that when someone loves you they don’t dispose of you at the drop of a dime. I’m learning that when you sit still and take time, you truly love and care about someone. Sitting still may be the hardest thing I’ve ever faced in life, but I’m dealing with it. I’m working on my stability issues. I’m learning that you can’t learn anything about conflict resolution if you don’t embrace the problem to figure out a solution. Sitting still has made me learn from my mistakes, and I’m a better me because of making the choice to sit still and deal with life and everything it throws my way.

Hoping that this journey into being okay with stability, will get easier sooner than later. I have to learn how to love my husband without conditions. My sitting still issue interferes with my ability to be a wife. I am determined to overcome this struggle.

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Dream Or Message

I woke up crying. I was so confused and scared. I was scared that my dream was telling me my destiny for the afterlife. Not every dream indicates that the surreal events in it, is what’s going to happen in your present life. Sometimes a dream has an alternative meaning behind it. You just have to be wise enough to figure it out.I figured mines out. It made perfect sense. It was a sign that it was time for me to live. It was time for me to break free of the pain and fear that had plagued me since childhood.

Imagine driving up to a corner store just to grab some drinks for you and some friends and you spot someone committing a terrible crime. What do you do? Take off and call for help or act like you don’t see them? I saw her (I assume her, I never did see a face) but I didn’t know she’d seen me. I was ready to back out of the lot when she came my way. I sunk down into my car seat and hoped I’d disappear. Of course that wasn’t the case.

She walked up to my vehicle and begin to pour her gasoline around my car too. She was angry and hurt. I couldn’t see a face, just a womanly shape. I yelled out, “God loves you, he cares about you, if only you would believe.” The lady’s response (was a woman’s voice that responded) was what could God do for her, that he didn’t love or care about her. She took a cigarette out of her pocket and lit it. As she got ready to flick the lit cigarette to the ground, I cried out in my sleep; “There’s something about the name Jesus.” Her cigarette lost flame and she took off running.

I got out of my vehicle and hid behind a bush near the store. A loud deep voice, I presume it was God’s, yelled out, “Why are you hiding?” “What are you afraid of?”

I woke up from the dream. I woke up from the false sense of security I’d created for my life. I knew that I had dealt with rejection stemming from being taken from my mother as a baby and being bounced around to group homes and foster homes until adulthood. I was afraid of EVERYTHING imaginable. My experiences of the world was bullying, molestation, rape, child abuse, abandonment and instability. I knew after that revelation of a dream that I had to share my story with the world. I had to be the voice for the voiceless. I had to give the insight into the ‘ward of the state’ scene.

My dream revealed that anything was possible with God. My nightmare/dream told me that no one could harm me or permanently do damage as long as Jesus was by my side. I was told to come from behind the scenes and don’t be afraid to shine. I refused to allow anyone or anything to dim the light that was placed upon my life. I’d had my past experiences for a reason and I finally figured out what to do with the pain. I wrote my book behind this dreaming experience. The book detailed everything I had went through, was going through, and how I continued to triumph over my circumstances.

I wrote a book because my dream told me to stop hiding and to rid myself of fear from what others might think, say, or believe about me.

That dream changed my life and made me work on me. Now I’m trying to save lives one day at a time through my story and my nonprofit dedicated to women. Let your dreams guide you, not scare you.

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Closed Mouth Syndrome

Everyone has went through the ‘closed mouth’ syndrome. We have at some point wanted to tell or ask someone for something but out of fear of their reactions, we kept our mouths closed.

I remember as a young girl I was always afraid to speak. I was adopted by a physically abusive woman who believed that kids were to be seen not heard. I became an introvert because of the way she raised me. I kept to myself because I didn’t really know how to speak for myself. This led to me being bullied and alienated from other kids my age, they thought I was weird.

This also led to me not telling someone when I was molested by a foster mother’s son (after my adoption broke due to the child abuse) at 14 years old. I was scared to tell her because I didn’t know if she’d believe me. If she kicked me out, I didn’t know where they would move me. She always said I was fast and promiscuous so for that reason, I kept my mouth shut.

I was raped later on that year when I went to another foster home by a guy I called my boyfriend. After being molested as a child from 3-6 years of age in my first foster home, being molested at 14, and now raped; I just figured that this was life. I had been told nothing different other then what I had experienced. So I didn’t tell my new foster mom about the rape either. I endured with a closed mouth and wounded heart.

I watched a movie this past weekend called “Mississippi Damned.” This movie touched bases on the true root of where a lot of sexual abuse begins, from family members and family friends. In this movie the sexual abuse begin with a young boy being conned into doing a sexual favor for his uncle to get money for a basketball playing trip. This young boy in turn, raped his younger cousin shortly after. She kept her MOUTH CLOSED. No one knew what happened because the family was rowdy and focused on themselves she didn’t know how to tell them. Come to find out at the end of the movie, it was discovered that the young boys mother had been molested all of her life by her biological father and her mother knew, and did NOTHING.

It was a generational happening for this family. The bad thing about this situation is that everyone had kept their mouths shut. If this mother would have set down with her son and spoke to him about inappropriate behaviors coming from adults based on her past, he would have known how to respond to the sexual proposition from his uncle. Since everyone had the ‘closed mouth’ syndrome, this led to more people being hurt behind this horrible action. The young man grew up in this movie and ended up engaging in intercourse with a young lady around 14 years old (consensual) but it was statutory rape. If the young cousin had spoken up and told someone, that could have saved that young ladies life.

This movie touched and broke my heart all at the same time because it touched home for me. It opened up my eyes to the problems that GROW behind the ‘closed mouth’ syndrome. All too often parents/adults, are too ashamed of something that they have been through so they keep secrets. Those secrets can lead to ruining the lives of many because there is no knowledge of serious situations that are or have occurred so the NEXT person doesn’t know what to do, so they do nothing.

I talk to my 7 and 9 year old sons all the time about inappropriate sexual behaviors. I ask them every week if someone has touched, said or looked at them in any way that made them uncomfortable. I want them to know that they can talk to me about ANYTHING and EVERYTHING. I want them to be aware of what is and isn’t acceptable behavior from a peer or adults. I’m teaching my sons, AWARENESS. I want to protect them from ever being hurt, if I can help it.

The ‘closed mouth’ syndrome leads to pain creating pain. If people worried more about talking these things over with their children, we probably wouldn’t have so many cases of child rape and molestation reports in the news WEEKLY. Please don’t be afraid to talk to your children about ‘signs and behaviors’ that indicate inappropriate behavior that can lead to short term or long term sexual abuse. Teach your children to be aware of what isn’t okay, teach them what to do if something does happen. Talk to them, be honest about your past, so that your child doesn’t end up reliving what you’ve already went through.

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