The Early Years

This was supposed to go up last night but I decided to wait on it… I needed to make sure I actually wanted everything in this post out there. Please note, this is me speaking my truth. This post isn’t meant to attack anyone or to make anyone feel like they’re less than. This post might be a little triggering for some but it’s the best way for me to tell MY story and speak MY truth. I’m working through a lot of things in therapy and with the way that I handle things, this is the best way for me to process. I also think it’s necessary for me to tell you all that I’m not posting this for sympathy or attention.

This is going to be a 3 part post, part 1 is The Early Years, Part 2 is 20-Somethings, and Part 3 Fast Forward. I’ll drop one today and then the following two each Monday after.

So yeah… let’s dig in? I guess? I should also note that this post is going straight from my head to paper, I don’t want to sound too formal. I just want it to be my own words. Everything that comes into my head is going on paper so if it seems like I’m stalling, I’m just trying to process and write at the same time.

Ok, when I think about where I am in my life, the one thing I can’t seem to catch a break on is love. I am very detached from my partner in every way possible. I WANT to be close and open and just trust that everything will work out but there is this wall that just will not come down. One of my biggest issues is that I do not like to be touched. If you know me personally then you’ll know this to be true. I don’t want you to invade my space at all. I absolutely love love. I thought I’d be married with at least one or two kids by now but I just can’t seem to let down that damn wall. What I’m learning through this entire process is that your childhood has so much to do with how you are as an adult. The things you go through between the ages of 6-16 play a huge part in developing you as a person. Of course all other ages are important but those ten years are your most impressionable. Those ten years can define who you are going to be if you aren’t careful.

*from this point on, I’ll be speaking on my own experiences. I’m not referring to anyone else. I’m not speaking on anyone else’s upbringing. Doesn’t matter if we grew up in the same house or not, this is MY experience and MY story. *

My childhood was… a lot. I get the misconception of being the “angry” one because I didn’t speak to a lot of people about things and when I did it was always an outburst. There are a lot of things that I’ve blocked out. I don’t even want to say that I just forgot because that isn’t the truth. I’ve completely blocked out entire experiences that I associate with bad memories. This is hard. It’s hard to write but I’m going to do it anyway. Please please please… I am asking that my family read what I’m about to say and just, please… My dad was a monster. He was a monster to a lot of people but I can never and will never share that hate for him. My dad protected me from a lot as a kid and for that, I can’t share in that hate. He was verbally and physically abusive to my mom. There are moments that I remember seeing that I won’t speak on because that isn’t my story to tell but he was just.. he was a shit husband and protector to her and he deserves to be where he is right now. But on the other side of that, he was the best dad to me. I came first to my dad. He encouraged my creativity at a very young age and I was able to talk with him about a lot. Before my dad was arrested I was molested. I started wetting the bed and after like the third time, of course, there were whippings (is that how you spell it?), but after a while, he sat me down asked me flat out if anyone had touched me. And I told him yes. I told him who it was and I never saw that person again. I was ok for a while. He kept me by his side and didn’t leave me with anyone he didn’t trust. I was good again. But he was still a shit person to everyone else. When he went to prison I wasn’t good anymore. I felt so exposed and alone and I just couldn’t handle it. I didn’t feel like I was in a safe space to be able to tell anyone else so I didn’t. I held it in and pushed forward the best I could. I was absolutely angry. I felt that the one person who was making sure I was safe was gone. I was mad at my dad for being selfish and doing something that’d jeopardize his freedom. I was mad that the incident had happened at all. I was mad that I felt like the kid no one wanted. My sister had her dad's side of the family and her godmother and our grandmother and I felt like I had nobody. I felt like everyone took the anger and hate they had for him and directed it at me. Like every time they looked at me, all they saw was him.

This is more embarrassing for me to admit than anything but I’m trying to be completely transparent here. I didn’t stop wetting the bed until I was in high school. It wasn’t all of high school but I can’t remember if it was sophomore or junior year when it stopped. And that only happened because I started seeing a private counselor. It wasn't something to happen every night. It was definitely triggered by anxiety and other outside factors. I’ve been working since I was 13 and I got to a point where I went to my guidance counselor and asked if there was a way to speak with someone about something going on with me without my mom or teachers finding out. She let me know about a few programs but I did have to pay for them. Of course, there were times where I spent my money on typical teenage things but a lot of it went to counseling and anger management. I would sometimes go after school and just tell my mom that I was staying late for step practice or working or something. It didn’t really matter to her as long as I found my way home but I know in my heart of hearts that me telling her I wanted to go to therapy wouldn’t have gone over well. I remember feeling really alone and suicidal at one point because I just didn’t understand why two people that live in the same home could get treated differently and I just didn’t know how to deal. So I did attempt once and after that, I didn’t tell my guidance counselor what exactly happened but I let her know that I needed to talk to someone.

I just want to stop here and say sometimes a kid wets the bed for simple reasons like having liquids after 8 pm or something of that nature but if you put an end to that and see there is no change, maybe that’s a red flag. Maybe sit down with your kid and talk to them. Don’t yell or blame them or make them feel any more embarrassed than they already do. Kids are people too… please be kind to them.

Ok so… high school. I had a pretty good time. I didn’t really have those super close friends. I felt I was close enough to some people but I definitely wished I had best friends. Some of you that went to high school with me are probably like “but you had best friends. Y’all were together all the time!” trust me, we weren’t friends… But that’s beside the point. I wanted to be wanted by my peers. That’s honestly why I joined so many different clubs and groups, I wanted to find my place. I never really did (in my opinion). I felt like I was one of those people that you’d notice when they were there but forget about once they were gone. That lead to suicidal thoughts and really motivated me to speak with someone. Another reason is that I felt like I was living in the shadows of others and I just wanted to be my own person.

BUT as a kid coming into an environment where she had already established herself was really intimidating. I was called “little DeSiree” for the entire time we were in school together. My senior year was the only time I felt I had to really be me. And that’s not her fault at all. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her. We all know this… when we were younger, I was definitely in her shadow. Which is why I was so eager to leave.

After high school, I got accepted to Lamar University in Beaumont, TX, and let me tell you… the best time of my life. This was what I’d been looking for. A chance for people to get to know ME. A chance for me to find myself without the influence or opinions of others. Not having to measure up to anyone, just me. That obviously didn’t work out though. I was very sad that I couldn’t stay but everything happens for a reason and I’m extremely grateful for my time there and the people that I met. They really helped me find a part of myself that I didn’t know existed. They saw me as an individual with her own power and that honestly woke something in me that I’ll never take for granted…

More in Part 2 coming next Monday...

Thank you all so much for supporting me and showing love to my blog and any other business venture I might have. It means a lot to see all of these people wanting me to win. Thank you for sticking through this post and for being patient with me while I work on myself.

As always you all are light and please continue to spread love and remember to be kind always.

Until next time!