My Path

I was a model at 4 years old. I loved to look pretty and wear beautiful dresses. I loved getting my hair done and wearing big girl lipstick. I was very nervous and sometimes didn’t want to walk down the runway by myself. Sometimes my mommy had to hold my hand and help me walk down. Sometimes I didn’t want to do it at all, but my mommy said I was too pretty and needed to be a model. That one day I will be famous. I guess I wasn’t pretty enough because Mommy took things that made her not be my mommy anymore.

Eventually, we had to go live with grandma and granddaddy. I still got to model but I also got to sing, I loved to sing. I loved singing so much that I was going to be a singer when I grew up. I didn’t want to just be a model anymore, I wanted to be a model and a singer. I told any and everyone that would listen to my dreams. I tried out for every talent show, joined the drama club, did plays at church, and sang in the choir every Sunday. I got lots of lead parts and I absolutely loved it!  No one was going to tell me that I couldn’t be a singer and model, that’s what I wanted to do and that’s what I was going to do,

One day a family member sat me down, I was 13 years old. I was told that my dream of being a singer and a model was ridiculous and never going to happen. I was told that, although I could sing and was pretty, I was never going to be what I wanted to be. I had to be realistic and find a career I could be successful with. That night I cried myself to sleep. I no longer wanted to be a model or singer.

When I was 16 years old, I decided that I was going to be a fashion designer. I left my “childish” dreams behind and focused all my energy on becoming a fashion designer. I was in my senior year of high school. I made a mistake, I got pregnant. I was told that my life was over, that I was going to end up on the street and on drugs (like my mother I was told). I was told that my boyfriend was going to leave me and my baby and never look back and I would end up all alone. A few weeks later I had a miscarriage, and I almost died, physically. I did die emotionally. I was lost spiritually. I was broken mentally. We never spoke of it again in my family.

I got into college. I was going to school for fashion design, and I was so excited. I was finally going to get some well-deserved freedom from my life. My life that, up until that point, never felt like mine. I never felt like I belonged to myself. I thought that by leaving home I could find myself and find out where I was going. I didn’t. I lost myself even more than I had in my previous years. After one year I quit college.

I went back home at 19 years old. I worked all day and night and spent my free time with my boyfriend. The same one I was told was going to leave me when I got pregnant at 16. He was still by my side and there was no sign of him going anywhere. Then I got pregnant again. At the age of 19 years and 10 months old I had my baby girl, and I couldn’t have been in more love than I was at that very moment. Every fiber in my body wanted nothing more than to build a life for her that no one could take away. When I held her in my arms for the first time, I was exhausted and so damn happy all at the same time. I knew then that I could do ANYTHING I fucking wanted to and no “family” member was going to take that from me.

For the next 2 years, I was happy. My boyfriend of over 4 years was not just the father of my daughter but he was also my fiancé. Then it happened. The world took my grandfather away from me. I stood at the end of his hospital bed holding my daughter in disbelief that another chapter of my life was coming to an end. The only father I ever knew, the man who taught me to ride a bike, and even tie my shoes, was leaving and I wasn’t ready. That morning was almost silent, we all gathered around his bedside as we quietly watched him take his last breath. A part of me died with him that day.

At 22 years old I was about to have my 2^nd child, another beautiful little girl. At 6 months pregnant I was holding hands with my best friend in front of my mother, grandmother, and our daughter, vowing our lives to each other forever. The same man that I was told was going to leave me was now my husband and the father of our two beautiful daughters. We were tested at this time. The universe and I both had different plans and guess who won. I struggled very badly with post-partum depression. At one point I didn’t think I could do it anymore, life that was. I would never hurt my babies but myself, that was a different story. I struggled badly, I didn’t think I would ever look at a rainbow again and smile, I didn’t think I could smile ever again at all.

Fast forward 3 years later. At 3am, I ran and jumped on my husband to wake him and tell him the news. We were expecting our 3^rd baby. I had learned how to smile again, I loved myself and my life. Nothing was perfect but it was what we had made it, and I was okay with that. I gave birth to another beautiful baby girl, she was perfect. It was the most relaxed birth I had ever experienced but the whole nine-month process took a toll on my body and mind. I couldn’t go through another pregnancy; we were a mess financially. I was a mess physically, mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually. Four months later I was pregnant again.

I was blank. I had fallen into a dark hole and there was no one there to help lift me out. I was falling deeper and deeper into the abyss and I didn’t think I would ever find the light again. I had decided that the only option for me was to eliminate my pregnancy. My husband told me that whatever I wanted to do he would support me, that it is my body so the choice is ultimately mine (a lesson some men still need to learn). The week my procedure was scheduled everything went wrong. The universe was once again talking to me, only this time it was showing me my options. The night before I was supposed to go for the procedure I sat down and talked with my husband. Eight months later I gave birth to our first and only baby boy 3 days before Christmas. Best gift I’ve ever gotten to this day and the best decision I made for myself.

Throughout the next few years of my life, I struggled a lot. Marriage problems got worse, because let me tell you no matter how beautiful my life may have looked on social media, I was a fucking mess. We were on the brink of divorce. I was stuck in a loop of self-loathing. The scars left on my arms and legs tell a huge part of how difficult it was to breathe every day I woke up. Drinking helped to numb all the things the pain I caused to myself couldn’t. I didn’t think I was going to make it past 30 years old. The people I thought I could trust betrayed me many times over. Then to add to my pain the universe fucked me over again.

My grandmother was sick and in the hospital. I had made plans to go see her that afternoon with my mom and my oldest daughter. One minute she was here and the next…she was gone. The woman that gave me her name, her beauty, her confidence was gone. Once again, a huge part of me vanished. I had lost all sight of who I was and what I wanted or even needed in life anymore. I no longer cared, at all.  I was honestly alone. I had written a letter to each one of my children, I was satisfied with my decision, and I was ready to go. All I wanted was a way to make the pain stop. I just wanted to feel again, I wanted to feel the sun on my skin and smile while its warmth filled my soul, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know who I was, and I wasn’t going to try and find out. I wanted out. Then it came like a thief in the night.

Covid. It was the biggest wake-up call of my life. I was forced to focus on my marriage, being a mother, and myself. It changed my life forever, in a good way. While other people were losing their shit being “stuck” with their children and spouses 24-7, it was a blessing in disguise for me. I sat in the sun, lifted my head to the sky, and felt the rays light up my soul. I found me again and I was more ready than ever to continue to find more and more of myself and shape it into what I knew I was meant to be. My children had transformed overnight into these little adults who were ready to take on the world. My husband was my husband again, we were back to the spot we should have never left in the first place. We were far from perfect, but we were what we were meant to be. We had found OUR happiness. Not what others thought we should be.

Here we are today. I am 36 years young and still going. I still have anxiety, depression, and bad days but now, it’s on my terms. Sometimes I have bad days that I feel like I’ll never get out of, but I do. Every day I wake up and make it through another day. My kids are happy, healthy, and glowing. My husband and I are in love, happy, and taking it one day at a time. I am far from perfect, and I never plan on being that way. All I can do is hope and pray that one day I’ll finally find out who I am and will be 100% satisfied with that person. For now, I am going to look at rainbows and smile, I am going to dream about all the things I still want to do, I am going to take one day at a time and no one will ever tell me again what I can’t be!