Family
Fear and its reality
For years, people kept poking at me, speculating about my sexuality, and cracking cruel jokes. So, when I finally admitted I was engaged to another guy, it felt like I’d thrown a match into a gasoline-soaked room. The laughter faded fast, and fear stepped in, driving a wedge between me and my family. Suddenly, my private life was up for grabs, and I faced homophobia like I’d never experienced before, even from folks who’d promised they’d be cool with it.
By Christian Bass4 years ago in Confessions
Single Mom Chronicles
I have been a single mother since 2008. I became a double-time single mom in 2015. Two men left me alone to raise two daughters. My children are quite literally my world. I lost my identity when their dads decided to leave. As I write, my only identity is being a mother. I have no social life. I have no boyfriend. Taking care of my children consumes me. I have to work to make ends meet. I still fall short. It was (and still is) suggested that I get a second job. I continue to refuse. If I am always at a job, when will I see my children? When I am away, they miss me and I miss them.
By Latoya Giles 4 years ago in Confessions
Riding The Wave
In March 2012, I moved back home, convinced by my mother, she would help me, and my 2 kids find another apartment. Before I moved out of my apartment, we were already searching for apartments because I had already put my 30-day notice in. As time got close to my approximate move-out date, my mom says, "Why don't you and the kids just move in with me until we find a place". I did not want to go back, but I had already submitted my 30-day notice, so I said, "Ok mom, but I need my place for the things I'm working on." At the time I was trying to start my home daycare. I needed to have my place badly to build the things I believe in.
By Dominique Emanuel4 years ago in Confessions
The stranger in the mirror
I met her about four and a half years ago. She was nice, I mean she never treated me differently than anyone else. I thought, I could be this woman. She’s not bad on the eyes, and she’s smart, witty, intelligent, funny, and has a lot to offer. She just had two little girls about 15 months apart, and the curves are poppin’. I loved my weight gain…at first. But then it started going downhill. I had a very traumatic experience early in 2018 that lead me down a whirlwind I thought I’d never come out of. My husband left me in a way that you wouldn’t leave your enemy. He didn’t leave me for his new girlfriend, he planned it where he would attempt to rob a bank, and get arrested. Well, he did get arrested, and later convicted for robbery and sentenced to 45 years in tdcj. Our two daughters, 1 1/2, and 6 months didn’t even know at the time what was going on. I was left with my then 13 year old son, and my baby girls by ourselves. No money, no food, nothing. See, at the time I was a stay at home mother, while he worked. We didn’t want anyone to babysit or have our daughters in daycare. We had a plan. At least at the time that’s what I thought. I was a devoted wife, and want to stick with him through the good the bad and the ugly. I thought that I was doing our marriage justice by sticking by him, and realized after he was incarcerated, that he never loved me. That was a hurt that I’ve never felt before. A hurt that broke me into a little million pieces. This time I couldn’t glue them back together. I drank alcohol, and smoked black and milds literally every day. I sat in outer space, just wondering what the hell happened to my marriage? The man I was sleeping beside since the summer of 2014, where did I go? Because I knew at that moment, the moment where the detectives escorted him out of our front door, I left with him. I stress ate, drepressed ate, felt sorry for myself ate, felt sorry for the children ate, and drank myself to sorrow. Like their was no tomorrow and I defended myself from myself. I gave myself excuses. I just knew the right things to say to myself to make me feel good. I was angry, sad, hurt, ashamed, broken, alone, and humiliated all in one sitting. Each and every day I did not recognize who I was. Then started the belly that wouldn’t go away, the fat under the chin. The back fat, the extra jiggle under the arm. I became some one else. I’ve never been this type of weight before. I hid. I didn’t want to be seen by anyone much less myself. I thought, at first, that I could pick myself back up and be ok. But this type of pain hit me to my core. This type of pain turned into self hurt I can admit. 2018 was a helluva year. Not only was my husband gone, but the kids and I had to sell everything in the house, we had to move to the city with my sister and her family. We stayed with them for seven months until I was able to get my own apartment. I felt accomplished. I felt… relieved. But I still saw the stranger in the mirror, a person I never knew. I, being who I am, thought I would get used to her, grow into her, be compassionate to her you know, show her love. But here it is 2022, and I still haven’t properly introduced myself to her yet. I want the old me back. I want the person I used to know. Here’s a thought: what if I’m not supposed to have the old me back? What if, I am to embrace the new me and just upgrade? What if I am to show the new me the love and attention and affection that I’ve never known and just reinvent? What if the choices I used to make are null and void now because the old me doesn’t and will not ever exist? I can look in the mirror now and exceed all expectations and mold the new she into me.”Hey stranger, my name is Lyteka, nice to me you.”
By Lyteka Freeman4 years ago in Confessions
The Real Life Of A Single Mom. Top Story - February 2022.
I’m becoming sentimental. While planning my daughter’s sweet sixteen birthday party, to be held in a few months, my mind has been drifting. I keep thinking about time’s swift passage. And I have been trying to come to terms with my baby turning sixteen. I am ready to celebrate this milestone in my daughter’s development, but I wish I had magical powers to turn back the hands of time.
By Dr Deborah M Vereen4 years ago in Confessions
The promise, the marriage and the lies.
Most of our lives we search for that special someone the one who is to help us through any difficulties in our lives. The legend of the soulmate though some people fall through the cracks and find the one that is supposed to make them learn what love is. I found that love first when a soulmate was what I was hoping for.
By Ellie4 years ago in Confessions
NEVER LOSE YOUR HOPE
My life has not always been pink, but I passed with strength and hope everywhere. When I began to understand life, I was just a seven-year-old girl, then I lost what was dearest to me in this world, my grandmother, my father's mother. My grandmother was everything to me, he gave me all that was best for me, I was the light of her eyes, I received the best lessons from her, I received all the warmth and love that a child could receive. All I could say was that I had everything I needed in those moments. Beautiful moments that I can't forget even after 24 years, but I will never forget them.
By Alexandra Predescu4 years ago in Confessions
The Most Important Meal of the Day
"The girls have, what I like to call, 'dick envy.'" I hear this time and time again, but how would you explain the first twelve years of my life. Raised by women, the man I was expected to become was different from the man men in my family attempted to mold me into. As a child, I was very sensitive and emotional, never feminine, but more in touch with my inner feelings. Amongst women, that was ok, but when surrounded by the men in my family, crying was a sign of weakness. Thinking that they were what I had to become, it felt like an obligation to learn to hide my feelings, and show no weakness, but at home, with the girls no one fought their feelings. If we wanted to cry because it hurt when we slammed our finger, or just because we were offended by what someone said, then we'd fucking cry. Plus at home, there was no competition, so the feelings were mostly positive anyway. As I grew older, and girls lost their cooties, and my eyes finally dried up, and finally my uncles could relate to me, I began to see that becoming a man does not have a clear definition. 'The girls' would want me to work hard in school, keep my eyes on the prize, and stay driven. Society wanted me to collapse, succumb to the drugs, the violence. Society made itself the most appealing, but the influence from 'the girls' kept me on a somewhat steady path. When I finally had experience under my belt, pun intended, my uncles and I would talk more, swap stories, and it was clear what being a man was to them. "Fuck as many girls as you can while you're still young, and never get married." Well, obviously. "Everybody does a little dirt, its part of life. As long as you don’t get carried away." Sound advice and probably the most realistic. Everyone fucks up, lord knows I already have, but it's what you take from the experience that makes the man.
By Mike Ortega4 years ago in Confessions
