Twenty-Eight.

If you would have asked me at 18 years old where I saw myself 10 years from now, it would be absolutely no where near here and for that, I’m grateful.
Seeing that my birthday was last week, I think it’s only normal that I did a bit of self-reflection about where I’ve been, where I am, and where I’m going. While reflecting, the Holy Spirit brought me through the entire timeline of my life thus far – the good, the bad, the stupid, and the ugly. He then said to me that not only is my story worth being told, but it NEEDS to be told.

My immediate reaction: absolutely not.

When I got the vision for this blog I was super excited about the idea and what I saw it becoming. However, I made it VERY clear to God from the beginning (funny, right??) that this wasn’t going to be about me. I wasn’t going to sit around and talk about the depths of my life. This would not be a “venting” medium, nor would it be a place for me to air my unpredictable emotions. This was to be an outlet for people who were looking to be informed and entertained by something Christian-based, positive, and (most of all) REAL.

All of that is good and well but if I’m truly honest with myself, then I must be transparent in order for this blog to TRULY have the impact that it needs to have. You need to know exactly who it is you’re dealing with in order for you to trust that I’m coming from a place of sincerity.

If I really want people to journey and grow with me through this blog, then people need to know and understand who they’re journeying with and where I’m journeying from.

I’m not giving too much detail with my story, however I’m also sharing just enough to make sure you get the picture so grab a beverage and get comfortable.

*Disclaimer: This is my life – my REAL life. If you know that you are unable to handle my story with care, please respectfully exit stage left this is a #NoJudgmentZone.

The Definition of a “Church Girl”
My grandfather is a retired Reverend. My grandmother is a choir-director and soloist throughout the A.M.E Zion circuit. My Mother and Step-Father are ACTIVE members in the church, my Uncle pastors, and my Father is a church musician – not to mention the Aunts/Uncles/Cousins with their respective roles throughout the Christian community. When I tell you I grew up in church??!! I grew up in, around, and out of church.

As it goes, my “church kid” training slowly began to look less and less appealing as I grew into my teenage years. It seemed everybody else was having more fun, was cooler, was allowed to do WAY more, and “yadda, yadda, yadda” – you know the woe-is-me teenager story.

I attended a high school that had a 10-15% minority population. Therefore, if I wanted to “fit in” there was only a small group for me to fit into. Unfortunately, the majority of this minority wasn’t about much – so, I did my best (and succeed for the most part) at not being about much either. I tried to play the “tough girl” role, my grades started to go downhill, and around this time I started sneaking around with an (unauthorized) boyfriend.

“He’s a good guy…he doesn’t cheat on me…he buys me everything…he treats me like a princess…what’s SO wrong??” — this was my thought process. However, I didn’t understand that just because he was a “good guy” didn’t mean he was good for me.

Unknowingly by me, my spirit slowly began to be chewed away around this time; I had my first taste of alcohol, weed, and sex all at the age of 14.
By the time I was 17 and 18, I was able to get my grades up just enough to squeak out a college acceptance all for the goal of being “free”. I was ready to go out into the world and do whatever I wanted “live my life”.

My disrespect towards my parents was at an all-time-high and, by then, I had been on pretty much a never-ending punishment at home for continuously gallivanting about with that same unwanted boyfriend, like a broke-down version of Romeo and Juliet.

The straw broke the camel’s back when I went out and got myself arrested for shoplifting the very same summer I was to leave to go to college. Needless to say, I finally got kicked out like all my stuff in garbage bags, OFFICIALLY kicked out.

(S/N: There is no feeling on this EARTH like breaking your mother’s heart. I was completely oblivious to exactly how much I needed her at this particular point in my life, nevertheless let the stupidity continue.)

Now On To College
I will be completely honest with you here college is a blur.

It didn’t take long from the onset for me to break up with the “love of my life” from high school and allow myself to wander to anyone who peeked my interest at the moment; there wasn’t a lot out there who grabbed my attention, but the few that did were a few too many.

I had discovered back in high school my mind-blowing tolerance for alcohol (plus I hated the way it tasted) so it also didn’t take me long for me to pick my drug of choice: Ms. Mary Jane. All day, everyday and if I wasn’t smoking a blunt, I was smoking a black & mild (strawberry or peach flavored, please) and if I wasn’t smoking a black, I was smoking a cigarette.

Now, if you aren’t aware, this habit costs MONEY…and being a college student, that was something I had very little of. So, since most (if not all) of my money went to my bad habit, I left it up to my “stellar” boosting skills to keep me cute. It didn’t take more than a thought for me to take a trip out to the mall to use my “five-finger-discount” and leave with a bag or two full of unearned merchandise.

*DEEP sigh*

Needless to say, it was pretty hard for me to stay focused on anything worthwhile in this cloud of cannabis smoke, social mind-games, and boost-a-ramas…more specifically my grades. Semester after semester my grades came back looking tragic as ever, but I was determined to stay (and waste my money) in the bubble of “fun and freedom”. Until the money ran out.

So, now I’m a college drop-out forced into the real world. I get a full-time job and, eventually, I remember that I had a “love of my life” that I had lost, so I found my way back to that same high-school boyfriend and *tah-daaaaahhh* 21 years old and pregnant.

While we were apart, this high school boyfriend had done some “living” of his own. He had a full-time, decent-paying job, but he was now also a drug dealer; not a “nickel & dime-on-the-corner” drug dealer either a “push weight” drug dealer. Red flag, maybe?? Nope, not for me. (*rolls eyes*)

I soon found out that along with the drug dealing came the drug dealing lifestyle. Was there money??? Please believe, but there was also now a new circle of friends that he hung around….random girls that always called/texted his phone nights out ALL the time, etc.

Now here I am…pregnant and basically living with my soon-to-be child’s father who I am well-aware cheats on me and stashes drugs and money in a closet a few feet away from where we rest our head at night. What a fairytale.

Fast-forward a bit and my daughter is born. One of the most beautiful days of my life.

I wish I could say that having my daughter turned my life around; that the love that I felt for her made me want to go out and immediately be a better me but it didn’t.

Her father and I are still together; he loves her more than anything in this world and treats her as such however, he’s still treating me like an accessory.

I’m still getting high on a regular basis not really “just because” anymore, but more-so to numb what had become my reality away.

My daughter is about a month old, and guess what??…I’m pregnant again. I don’t even think there was an actual discussion had as to what my boyfriend and I would do about it.

An appointment was immediately made and an abortion was performed soon after.

I smoked, and I smoked…

A year or so passes and by now I’m lonely. I’m still living with my daughter’s father, but things have fallen apart; our relationship has been pretty much grinded down to dirt, he has been fired from his job, got dropped from the drug game, and lost his apartment. We’re now staying with his Mom and are tight on funds.

I’m too clouded to realize that I’m depressed, lonely, and desperate.
I start to befriend a really cool chick from around where I went to college. We weren’t friends while I was out there, but linked up through social media soon after I left. She became an ear for me to talk to and was a distraction from the downward slope of my life…just the attention I thought I needed.

One weekend, I went up to where she was to party it up with her and a bunch of people for her birthday….and when I say party??!! We partied and then it happened: my encounter with a female.

Again, I would love to say that I was “black-out wasted”…but I wasn’t. I knew exactly what was going on, and was completely fine with it. I felt wanted, which was something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I left the next morning, sparked a blunt, and drove back home to my daughter and her father like nothing ever happened.

A few months go by and my daughter’s dad and I finally have our relationship-ending (physical) fight. That was it.

I call my parents, sobbing out of hurt, frustration, fear, embarrassment, and shame…begging for them to let my daughter and I come home. They allow me back, and now here I am a single-mother and right back at square one.

Now, all of these years I had been randomly still going to church the last seat of the back row, but I was still there. Somewhere DEEP inside me, my spirit was still in tact just enough to know where to find what I was searching the world for; however my mind couldn’t wrap itself around the logic.

It took for me to be broken down to the core and have turning to God as my last resort to realize that HE was what I was missing….HE was what I was longing for. At that very moment I made a promise to myself to never run from God again. I made a conscious decision to acknowledge his realness and that I needed him more than anything and everything.

After this point four years ago, I will be honest with you and say that I didn’t up and change overnight it takes time for brokenness to be healed.

It took time for me to stop relying on smoking as an emotional crutch.
It took time for me to separate myself from unhealthy situations and bad influences.
It took time for me to figure out and discover who I really was.
It took time for me to re-build my self-esteem and self-worth.
It took time for me to learn to trust.
It took time for me to fully embrace God.

My life has yet to be “picture perfect” – I still make mistakes and I am still working out kinks from the damage I did to myself years ago but my life is not over, I still have room to grow, and I still have a future.

We are all human….we are all flawed we all have and will make mistakes…but, you can never be so far gone that God’s love & mercy cannot reach you….I mean, NEVER. I don’t care what you’ve done, how long you did it, when you did it, and how many times you did it – God will always love you more than you could ever imagine; no matter how far away you wander, he’s always right there…watching and waiting eager for you to find him and experience TRUE abundance of life.

Check my story. I know it for myself.

[Luke 15] 17-20 “That brought him to his senses. He said, ‘All those farmhands working for my father sit down to three meals a day, and here I am starving to death. I’m going back to my father. I’ll say to him, Father, I’ve sinned against God, I’ve sinned before you; I don’t deserve to be called your son. Take me on as a hired hand.’ He got right up and went home to his father.
20-21 “When he was still a long way off, his father saw him. His heart pounding, he ran out, embraced him, and kissed him. The son started his speech: ‘Father, I’ve sinned against God, I’ve sinned before you; I don’t deserve to be called your son ever again.’
22-24 “But the father wasn’t listening. He was calling to the servants, ‘Quick. Bring a clean set of clothes and dress him. Put the family ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Then get a grain-fed heifer and roast it. We’re going to feast! We’re going to have a wonderful time! My son is here—given up for dead and now alive! Given up for lost and now found!’ And they began to have a wonderful time.

Mia // Twitter, Mia

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Image Source: “Transparences en Version Sport”, ELLE France, July 1984 // Photographer: Gilles Tapie // Model: Rae Dawn Chong