Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening, All!
First, I want to say a thank you to both my Kahuna and to Gillette for taking the moment to post a comment on my entry! I was SO excited! Your warm welcome of me really made an impression! You are both very sweet!
When I had my son, I was the first in my families history to do ANYTHING wrong. Well, except for the time that one of my cousin's got kicked off the school bus. It was quite the shocking thing, my pregnancy! Other than my mom and my grandmother, most of my family (except my brother who was not even driving yet) turned their back on me.
I worked at Burger King right up until the time I was put on bed rest. At that point, I broke down and requested medical insurance through the state. I was denied insurance because I would not name his father. When I explained the situation, and the fact that I was scared of him. They said they had a way around it. All I needed to do was name him, then they would investigate. IF they found the fear warranted, they would not pursue him. If they did not, then they had his name and what they chose to do with it was out of my control. NO! NO! NO! I vowed I would do everything I could so that I would always support my child 150%!
When my son was born, we lived with my parents. I was bound and determined to get on my feet and provide for BuddyLuv! I would make any sacrifice necessary to give him a good life! And, he would never hear a negative word out of my mouth about his biological sperm donor. He would simply know that the male who gave him to me knew he could not be a good father. So, he wanted what was best for BuddyLuv. . . The chance to find a good father!
Religiously, I was falling. I had such a strong faith, but I was such a "terrible" person. I felt as though the church was "taking pity" on me by allowing me to remain. I was their charity case. This feeling stuck in my head.
I had a few boyfriends along the way, but it was nothing that ever lasted or was brought around my "BuddyLuv". I think he was almost a year old when I first actually fully had sex. I remember thinking it was not all that exciting and how funny I thought it to be that something as beautiful as a child could come from something as simple and simply boring as sex. Boy, did I have a lot to learn!
I worked as a receptionist. . . That's where I met the male with whom I first had sex as described above. I also found a very short term boyfriend who had baby's mama drama! One night, as I was leaving his home, she pulled her car in front of mine, blocking me in. Her and her friends got out, surrounded my car and asked me to get out to talk. Talk? Yeah, right! One had a brick in her hand. She was close to my window. As I went to drive away, she hit it against my window. Luckily it did not break. That was enough of that!
By this time, we were only "Holiday Christians". The church was growing to the point that it boasted being the largest in the state. I was nothing to them and lost in the crowd.
I worked as a makeup consultant at a department store. . . Nothing really exciting there. . .
then I got my first "real" job with benefits and everything! BuddyLuv was almost two. I started at a large company doing the small things. . . filing and such. along the way, I took extra odd jobs.
I received a promotion. . . another promotion. . . another promotion! When BuddyLuv was 4, the company was not doing so well, and lay off fears were spreading like wildfire. Over lunch, as a friend and I were talking about the layoff fears, she showed me some pictures of a party she had thrown the weekend before. Baby-mama-drama-guy was in a picture. I could not believe it! I inquired about the status of baby-mama. . . I guess she had calmed down by then. Feeling like I should just want whomever wanted me, I asked her to say hi in the hopes that he would want me again, now that baby-mama was calmed down.
We ended up seeing each other. He had a friend tattoo my name on his back. What a nice surprise. . . NOT! He came to my sister's wedding with me. The groom and his groomsmen were acting odd towards this male and I. Shortly after the wedding, I found out this was because my date had ROBBED the best man at gun point, during a drug sale gone bad, but it was never reported to the police! I left him. He called me at work the first Friday I was working in my latest promotion. He was going to kill himself because he could not live without me. A co worker called the police for me as I was on the phone with him. They went to the house and took him to the hospital where I met with him. He never did kill himself. I never took his calls again.
I was tired. My faith was tired. My body was tired. I forgot everything I knew about faith and the strength it once gave me!
I left the company I was working for because I figured it was better to leave on my own with a job than be forced out without a job. Plus, I was so embarrassed after the suicide attempt by that male.
At a night club one night, I met a male. I didn't like him. But, he really liked me. So, I started seeing him. 6 mo later he asked me to marry him. He said he loved me so much, he even spent more on my engagement ring then he should have had to! It was almost $200. My desire to give BuddyLuv a "normal" full home was stronger than my common sense. I said yes. He started working two jobs to help pay for the wedding. Things started coming out about him. He started drinking. Hennessey on the rocks. . . I practically carried him to bed the night before I bought my wedding dress. I knew when I bought the dress, that I was not going to wear it. I knew it was not what he wanted me to wear (tight, sexy, cut down to there and slit up to there). Instead, it was the most beautiful, princess, huge dress I had ever seen. Why did I buy it? Because if I did not, my mom knowing how much I loved the dress meant explaining how I could find my dream dress and not want it. Two days later, I found the strength to leave him when he talked about whippings and how necessary they are to raise a child.
After having had to search out a church in which I would have been comfortable marrying a black man, had we gotten married, I was done with church.
The new job fell through because I was not mentally there with all that was going on. I was jobless. I worked at the mall for a few months until I was able to get back into the large company from which I came. I worked a second job at a night club after BuddyLuv went to bed to not only catch up but to also get ahead enough to get our own place.
With my lack of self esteem, I started working the door. I loved the music and he environment of the club! Then they were short a waitress, so I tried that. Then I was doing so well, I started being the shot girl. Working as a shot girl was empowering. Feeling that I could do this or that and MAKE men want to buy shots and give me tips was a rush. Knowing my walking by men a certain way would make them want me was a rush. Knowing that I had my ex's picture ingrained in the heads of the bouncers who would take care of him every time he wanted to set foot into the club was a rush. Being threatened by a girl caught drinking under age with a pool ball in her hand was not. I snapped out of it and left that job.
Fast forward, I met my latest ex-boyfriend. I also hit rock bottom. I was tired of working so much. I was tired of being tired. I was tired and working so hard to never allow my BuddyLuv to see what a screw up I was. Ex was a college grad, who went to school on almost full scholarships. He was beautiful, strong, educated, had a bright future but still had thug in him. What a dream come true! Ex moved in to help pay for bills. Ex broke down what was left of me. Ex brought into my home things that I was against. Ex was laid off from the company I was working for. Ex didn't have a car. Ex told me I would be so attractive IF. . . I started trying those IFs. But, I was always "almost there".
Get Busy Livin' or Get Busy Dyin'? I was dying.