I never thought I’d be here

I truly never thought I’d be here. At this very moment, I’m sitting in my garage. My garage is way more disorganized and packed than I would like it to be. My kids are in the house aged 20 and twin 13-year-olds all girls.My husband‘s at work managing a very fancy restaurant.

I have an office. 🤯 My office is super cute. Succulents books, fun lights, comfy seating, nice tech. It makes me love to work.

Florida. The grass is definitely greener over here. We took such a big chance moving here. A risk of a lifetime someone would say. Just writing this brings tears to my eyes. Thinking about all that we gave away to give our daughters a better chance for a brighter future and a healthier family.

Against all odds, we “made it“. We’re now your normal middle-class suburban American family living the American dream.

We homeschool our kids, by God‘s grace. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs, a lot of hurdles along the way, and even contemplated divorce at times. 

You see, I grew up in an abusive home with not a lot of food in the fridge. I would get yelled at for taking lunch money from the coffee can filled with change. The early years have been a blur for a long time. There’s been a lot of periods in my life where I have completely forgotten them, especially the early years. After reading a book (actually only the first couple of chapters) I started remembering things again.

I remembered the dirty rundown trailer that we grew up in that even a rat would be embarrassed to call HOME. I remembered being bullied all the time. Crying called a “nigger” on the way to the school bus and on the way back because my skin was a lot darker than everyone else’s. And I remember running home with tears pouring down my face from getting hit in the head by rocks from the boys who kept calling me that word.

But what I didn’t remember was the neglect. The food that we weren’t allowed to eat because it was for my mom. That time I got sent home from school because I was just too dirty. Taking showers with my dad as a kid. I also didn’t remember how he watched pornography in the living room every day or how we had to pick up the mail as kids which included Playboy magazines from the mailbox.

Looking back, I remember a lot more than what they thought I would like my grandfather telling me about how he was sexually abused by a group of men while he was a child. And how I found endless pro-life resources in his attic when he passed away. I was only 16. I had been told at that point for more than half my life that my dad was my dad but at 10 years old I found out he wasn’t. I overheard a conversation my mother was having in the kitchen and learned that I had never known my biological father. My mother conceived me through rape. The only reason my mother knew that I knew at that point was because she could hear me sobbing on the other side of the wall. Everyone always made fun of me as a kid, and I never looked like my brother and sister, but I never knew why until that very moment. 

My mother proceeded to tell me that her boyfriend at the time raped her at a party that he was having. Since he was a virgin, his father held my mother down for him to rape her, according to my mother. This one conversation that we had drove how I viewed myself for the rest of my life up until now.

I didn’t even remember telling my friends about how my mother was raped. When I started speaking out against child abuse my mom was even proud of me. It wasn’t until my daughter started asking my mom some hard questions about times that she spent with my mother and her husband alone that my mother turned on me. She now says that she never told me that she was raped. This is a lie.

When this situation happened, I went back to my childhood friends and I asked them if they remember when I found out that my dad wasn’t my real dad? And they said yes, and they asked me if I remembered the girl that I thought was my sister because of who her dad allegedly was. I had forgotten that in the fifth grade. My mom told me that this other girl in my school could be my sister because her mother was also dating this man that supposedly raped my mother.

I had forgotten. 

My whole life felt like a lie. After my grandfather passed away I spiraled. I ended up pregnant at 17. I had my beautiful daughter at 18 after being told I should have an abortion and I refused. They said I would never amount to anything… but God.

She’s 20 now. I left her biological father because he too was abusive. 

I do remember the day that I met my husband 18 years ago. I had just finished a photo shoot and then went to work night shift at the hospital. He was wearing a lilac button-up shirt, black pants and black leather shoes with his hair slicked I thought he was gay because he played hard to get, but thankfully, I was wrong. He says it was love at first sight, but didn’t say I love you for a whole year later. 

Today is Thanksgiving 2024. We bought our first home four years ago. I don’t talk to my mom or dad anymore. It’s sad really. They couldn’t accept the fact that they couldn’t treat me and my kids however they wanted. They wish I wasn’t a Christian pursuing righteousness. They had hoped I’d follow in their footsteps. 

I’m now in the living room. The living room with a beautiful fireplace and built-in bookshelves. A nice TV and PlayStation for the kids. I’m surrounded by my three beautiful daughters and the three family pets. They light up my life. I adore them. Plants are all around me. In every room of the house. I get that from my grandfather. My love for plants and God. He showed me what being born again looked like. I didn’t realize it until I was an adult. But I am so thankful for his life and love for Jesus. 

Tonight we will put up the Christmas tree. It reminds me of everlasting life and the light of Jesus Christ. 

I remember a lot of dark things from my childhood. From witchcraft to alcoholism. To drug use. To physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. And everything in between. 

I remember my grandfather trying to take his own life when I was a kid. I remember my mom abandoning us for another man. Tearing apart another family. She seems to forget these details. But I don’t. 

I remember as an adult having to redefine my identity based on who God says I am and not by the example my mother showed me a woman should be. 

I love my mom. I pray for her to know the sweetness of God. And I am thankful for her. Thankful for the example she showed me of what an ungodly mother and woman is. I’m thankful for God opening my eyes to show me what a godly woman is. 

Thankfulness. The older I get the more thankful I am. Thankful for my husband who doesn’t let me stay stuck in the past. Who protects me and my daughters. He doesn’t let me stay complacent with who I am and pushes me to be a godly woman with every passing day by him being a more godly man with every passing day. 

I’m thankful for my daughters whom God used to teach me what true sacrificial love is. They are the best parts of me. Their beauty and book smarts outshine my own and I couldn’t be more thankful for it. 

I’m thankful for my career as both a child advocate and sales manager for a lovely, godly nonprofit. My life has so much purpose. I knew as a kid that I’d never stay in poorville Pennsylvania but I never thought I’d be here. But I am so thankful I am.