My father wanted drugs. My mother had drugs. She loved him deeply but she got played pretty hard. According to my father my conception was pretty much payment for drugs. Pills to be exact. He didn't want me. She did. Take me or leave me. I am about as real as they get. I don't care what you think of me. I've already been shredded by those who loved me and I'm still here. Still standing. Growing and glowing. Still learning and striving to feel more like myself everyday. Still finding the woman that I was mean to be. New pieces of her emerge second by second. My conception does not define my purpose or my place in this world. But, it sure was hard to overcome.
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This is my truth
Non-FictionMy life has been an intense journey from a little girl who was beaten down and abused into believing that she was worthless, to a woman at 43 years of age who is still desperately searching for who she truly is. I found her though. I did. And she wr...
