It’s difficult to grasp that at such a young age that I was forced into situations that no one should have to face. Here I was, only 6 years old, lost and at the same time feeling as though this was how life was for everyone. It took some time to realize that not every child had to face this type of darkness. It was years before I became aware that I was being abused and that it wasn’t okay.
We were living back at my grandmother’s house and even though she was no longer with me, I felt somewhat safer than I had in what seemed like forever. This feeling didn’t last long because my mom could not live without a man in her life even if that man was someone that would destroy mine. I’m not sure how she met this next guy, but one day he was just there and didn’t leave. He actually seemed nice and played the part of the nice guy to the outside world perfectly. He was the true definition of a predator. He was a person that knew how to pull the wool over someone’s eyes even though my mom didn’t need any help when it came to ignoring what was really happening. She began leaving me alone with him when she would go to work or when she would run errands. It was always just me that he would offer to “watch” for her because I was older and easier to take care of. My sister would always go with my mom or to my mom’s friends houses while she worked. For some reason, she never thought the request that I always be with him was strange. He molested me for a couple of years even when my mom found out about it she ignored it as though it wasn’t happening. She only got rid of him when he tricked her out of signing over my grandmother’s house to him which left us homeless.
From there, we moved in with the next guy she found to be her new soul mate. He lived in a tiny trailer which left my sister and I with no bedroom. We slept in the floor of the living room of this dilapidated trailer while my mom chose another man over us. All of our belongings, including everything that my grandmother had left for us were stored in his old shed outside. I finally wasn’t being sexually abused, but was left to take care of myself while the adults got high. When my mom was finished with this guy a few months later she had reached a decision to leave the state with a friend of hers because she had gotten into some legal trouble. They had decided it was better to run away from it than face the consequences.
My sister and I were awakened in the middle of the night and told to get into the car. My mom’s friend drove through the night while she rode in the passenger seat because she had lost her driver’s license recently due to receiving several DUIs. Once we made it to our final destination, which was several states away, the first thing my mom and her friend did was find somewhere to dump my sister and I so they could party. This was honestly a huge turning point in my life and made one of most major impacts.
The year was 1993 and I was from small rural town in the south. I remember hearing people speak negatively about anyone of color, especially those that were black. I never understood then but I was being conditioned to see people with darker skin as less than. I was always only around white people and I had really never thought anything about race until the day we arrived in St. Louis. Upon arriving in this new place, it was only a few hours before we were being dropped off at our newest babysitter’s house. This was another normal for me because we were always being left at stranger’s homes. The difference in this instance was that it was the first time I had met someone whose skin didn’t match mine. I remember being confused because I had heard the adults say bad things about black people as if they were to be feared. My mom and her friend told this woman we were staying with that they would be back later that evening which turned out to be a lie.
This woman turned and smiled at me as she shut the door. She introduced us to her son and daughter who were a little older than us. She had the warmest smile and seemed so kind. The house they lived in wasn’t huge but it was beautiful. The children had their own bedrooms and so many toys. They laughed and played. The mom sang songs and made me feel more welcome than I’d ever felt anywhere in my life. She cooked dinner and set the table. Her husband came home and we all say down together to eat dinner. This was completely foreign to me. An entire family sitting at a dinner table eating together. They talked about their days and made us feel included. When it was time for us to leave my mom didn’t show up to get us. She didn’t even call. These sweet people made us a bed on the couch and the mom read us a story before we fell asleep. This was all new to me. We woke up the next morning and still no word from my mom. We stayed there for the next few days with these amazing people that were completely different from anyone I had ever met. It was the first time I understood that there were people with different skin colors and that these negative things I had heard from my mom’s group of friends were completely false. It was then that I realized that the people I should be fearing were the ones I was forced to be around everyday. My mom showed up a few days later and we left. She had decided to go back to our hometown. I’m not sure what happened in those few days that changed her mind or why she disappeared during that time but I left with an entirely new perspective on life and people. I wish I knew who these people were today because I’ve often thought about this family of 4 in St. Louis, MO. I wish I had the opportunity to truly thank them because they’ll never know what a major impact they had on shaping me into a person who really judges people on their character and not the color of their skin.
The series of choices my mom made next led us to being separated for the next few years which was honestly the best part of my childhood. I will save that story for later. Again, thank you for reading my story and I hope you found some part of it relatable to your own journey.
Living With Depression 