school but I don’t?” I dreaded this question for six years before it actually came.
taken aback when my six year old son asked me that question. I tried a swift
and pickup from school. However, by the way he was staring at me with his
inquisitive big brown eyes, I could tell that I wouldn’t get away with it so easily.
bring us to this point – the words to explain the ugly truth.
My son and I have always had a relationship based on trust. I’ve always promised
to tell him the truth and expected the same in return from him. Yet, some truths
are way too ugly to explain to children. My son’s father and I have been
estranged since he was born. Although we live in very close proximity, there is no
contact. If I am being completely honest with myself, our relationship was very
unhealthy – marred with lies, distrust and disrespect. Wanting better for myself and my newborn, I made the choice to leave the
I’m not going to lie being a single mom is downright hard. Some days it’s my mental stress and some days physical exhaustion. Working full-time, school part-time, plus all the other I’ve added to my plate is a lot, and that’s just me and four personalities needs from one end of the spectrum to the next, and now I need a container just to keep the food from falling off my plate. It’s like being on pause while people around you are still moving. Many days I feel like I am just floating through with no emotional connection day runs into each other without distinguishing features. Some days a simple comment, two or three of calling my name or speaking at once, or a phone call from the daycare to pick up a sick munchkin. It’s all a realization of just how alone I am on the journey of raising my four boys, a realization of abandonment, a realization of loneliness, a realization that keeps me going. All meall school concerts, fevers, meals, all me, all the time. Not to mention boys, I am a firm believer that there is a why I have only boys, and that’s okay because I trust in God, and one day I will understand.
As for now, I don’t deny myself of my emotions. If I need a day off or half day to sleep then that’s just what it is. If I need to cry then that’s just it is. It’s one step at a time, and that’s okay. I’m human too, and no less deserving of a moment to
myself. My son always says, “Mom, it’s better out than in.”
At 18 years of age I wanted to experience life. I wasn’t a defiant child, but my parents were super protective. Growing up, I was limited in my social life, and as for boyfriends, that was a definite no-no. I was born to West Indian immigrants, in a children were seen and not heard, you want something to cry for, speak when spoken to, do as I say household. There was no outward expression of love, congratulations, I’m proud of you moments. There was no teaching of banking, taxes, savings, cards, none of it. My mother worked jobs to provide, so she was home. She left before we got up, and came home as going to bed. She wanted to provide not only what was needed, but what was wanted.
HERE IS WHAT CO AUTHOR CAROLEE PARKS HAS TO SAY IN HER CHAPTER
Picking up the Pieces Final – Carolee Parkes
“Don’t ever touch my child again. If you do I will have you charged with assault. If you come by my house I will have you charged with trespassing”, were the words coming out of my mouth as I stood at the car yelling at the “new friend” of my husband who I was separated from.
My daughter left with her dad. I sat in the car in complete disbelief with so many thoughts going through my mind. I didn’t understand how my “husband”, allowed this female to touch our child in his presence and do nothing about it. As I drove away steaming with anger, I wondered, God how did this church girl end up in the same situation I had tried so hard to avoid all my life and actually thought I did the day I said, I do?
Let’s go back. Nine years ago I was in a long term relationship that I was sure was going to end in marriage, but instead ended in a horrible way. It left me heartbroken, and the seed of bitterness began to grow. I started to change for the worse, and that’s when I decided I needed to pull myself together. The year following the break up, I spent it focusing on healing my broken heart, and asking God to show me the lessons I needed to learn. It made me wiser and stronger than before. I had created a list of dos and don’ts while dating in church.
A year had passed when my brother handed me a phone number. I had asked a few questions before I agreed to call the man in question. However, I ended up calling as I was always open to meeting new people.
We spoke for weeks without meeting in person. Finally, we were going to meet and what better way to meet than at church. We didn’t have an instant love connection, but we were friends and I was okay with that. Several weeks passed, and we continued to talk all the time while he continued to attend my church. During this time, I began to develop feelings for this person. I started praying about it and seeking Godly counsel. I was applying all the lessons I had learned, and was determined to date in a way that honored God. I had a list of must haves in my Godly husband, and as he displayed them I began to tick them off my list one by one.
During this process, there were times I had doubts, and was hesitant but I couldn’t figure out why. I kept praying and seeking Godly counsel, and no red flags surfaced. In fact, just the opposite happened. So many things were falling into place. I was confident God was the foundation of our relationship, and my hesitations began to diminish.
HERE IS WHAT CO AUTHOR TASICA Q. FAGAN HAS TO SAY IN HER CHAPTER
The Marks Beneath My Skin
Tasica Q Fagan
I would have never thought that one day, one moment, I would have the courage – . The courage to dig deep into my truth and tell my story. This is my truth, my fear, my hurt, my reality, my joy, my cry, my passion, my desires, and my worth all in one testimony. Maybe, just maybe. I may have given up on you, “X”. I was stifling and you couldn’t see that. The man I once loved so deeply. “Not deep enough”, you once said to me.” I loved you. , I couldn’t hate you, but I hated how you treated me. Due to the fact that we were always arguing, I never actually got the chance to really explain to you how you made me feel and why we couldn’t be together anymore. We were both young and immature, ; in many ways than you may have never imagined. You blamed this all on me.? That’s not fair, because you know damn well it takes two to tangle, two to start an argument and two to communicate. Just admit it; you might as well tell the world since you’ve done a great job of turning your entire family against me. They will lie for you, they will cover you because that’s family, right? What about the truth? What about my truth, your truth?
“X”, I was mad at you for so long for not being there for me, and chose to be . For being there for your family and friends when we were making our own family. So much emotions came over me. I thought about when you never thought to run my bath water for me, and the only time you bathed me was that day, when you and I were in the shower together at your aunt’s house. I guess because we were having sex it must have been convenient for you to even soap up my back. You never took long walks with me , I never had those awe moments with you. Why “X”? This was our first baby, our first experience, but I was happy all by myself. I kept on smiling through it all and I just wanted you to be there. I walked a lot, I ate a lot. I craved pizza with; ground beef and pineapple with extra cheese. I drank plenty of fluids like the doctor said. Ugh! I couldn’t stand drinking all that milk either , but I did what I had to do because, it wasn’t about me anymore so as much as I wanted to stop drinking so much damn water especially for the prenatal appointments, I did it for our baby. I wore the proper underwear to avoid infections, I kept my skin moisturized even though it was super hot outside. Underneath my breasts were sweating and I think I owned maybe like two bras at the time. I remember I had an account with Scotia Bank and they closed my account because I had no money to deposit…….
HERE IS WHAT CO AUTHOR MILECA MAY HAS TO SAY IN HER CHAPTER
I was 16 years old when I entered my very first and long-term relationship.
Shy girl, dealing with a “kept quiet” depression that I never spoke about to anyone, but it was quite obvious and was starting to affect my focus, my goals, education, etc.
I’d say that getting involved in a “relationship” or just anything having to do with being outside of my regular routine was a great “distraction” for me at that point in my confused life. –And I say “confused”, as becvause I wasn’t able to determine, at that time, the cause of my depression until only recently, and as an aAdult now, looking back, it is clear, but that’s another story in itself-.
Despite being amongst the popular crew of girls at the time, I wasn’t one who was easily influenced by what my peers were into. So, whether it be name brand fashion trends, as I was known to always put the scissors to my cheap clothing, turning it into the “Ohh Girl, !!! can you please make one for me because ! I just love your style”, a definite trendsetter, I was never influenced by my peers. I was, a girl in my own world, until I entered the World of my “First’s”.…
You’d think that being the “shy/good girl” who took caution to herwas very cautious about her reputation would end up dating the choir boy, or the quiet but extremely cute boy everyone had their eyes on.
My “First”, was the “Star”of his Football Team. He had , with a body I believed only existed in movies, well over 6 feet tall, 6 pack abs, muscles bursting out the gate, smooth brown skin tone, and what a charmer he was. , On top of that, the epitome of a Thug, and not the type to “put on” just to make others fear him., I mean, it was in his blood stream, he knew no other way of life, a true Hustler on top of everything and these are things I admired about him at the time. I mean, how exciting…..and ! (distracting.) He was able to take my mind away from the every day issues, and have me focused on other things such as taking risks, which, at the time, to me were nothing short of “adventures” for me at the time.
I had given him my virginity, and after that came the onset of many other “firsts” within our relationship.
With him, I had my very first “spliff” (Marijuana) with him. Prior to that, , and prior too, I had never n’t even seen a “spliff” much less smoking one. –Exciting right?!-.
I had never taken public transit on my own before our relationship, and we lived approximately 45 minutes in distance of each other., therefore, I was taking one streetcar, a train and a long bus ride to get to his house almost daily., and a A few years into our relationship when we were taking more and more risks by the day, he eventually he put me behind the wheel and taught me how to drive.
TASICA Q. FAGAN HAS WENT THROUGH SO MUCH FROM HER PAST THAT SHE HAD TO DO TWO CHAPTERS
My Joy And My Pain
I remember when we were just co workers, when things seemed a lot easier. I use to look forward to seeing you each and every shift I had. I made sure that I visited your store at least once every break, and when I didn’t, I made sure that I would seen you after when our shift was over, . just to laugh and flirt like we always did. You always said something sweet about me or to me and I liked it. I liked that you paid attention to me, you commented on my hair, my skin and my smile. , I adored that. That went on for so long, to the point where I felt that I wanted you, but I never said anything. I thought I was just in my feelings, and I needed to focus on the goal, and that was to take care of mine.
That day, that one shift, we were told to work together, that day I thought, “yes, !” side by side, we will finally get the chance to talk more. Usually I would be at the cash register and you would be cooking and prepping food in the back. It was usually too busy so all we could do was stand close to one another, make eye contact, whisper things, laugh a little and work. But that day, however, that was the beginning of our joy and pain. We were working alone for the first and last time and to be honest, I wanted to go home with you but again, I said nothing. I could have just been me lusting over you because we really didn’t know each other outside of work. We managed to take a break together and ended up being alone. All it took was a moment alone together, time I have been hoping we would have. That was it, your kiss, your touch, it was all too easy. You then you said to me, “you’re mine now.” MeI was, so young and giddy, I accepted your command, and that day I told myself “I am officially taken.”
Work became more and more interesting as, we would leave work together and even go to work together sometimes. Some said we were inseparable. , things were beautiful. I felt safe. , I felt loved again. We were learning about each other and still,but at times I would cry sitting and cry, there thinking this is too good to be true. Not even realizing that I was inviting destruction in, that and it was right at my door step.
First, it was the weird dreams I began to have about you, and I kept telling myself to stop living in the past. It was hard because my past was still a distraction. N no matter how much I tried to avoid my child’s father, he never failed to get me worked up. But,However, no matter what, you were right there by my side.
THIS MIGHT BE THE LAST CHAPTER FOR THIS BOOK BUT STAY TUNED FOR MORE SERIES OF CONFESSIONS OF A SINGLE MOTHER BOOKS
THIS PURPOSE DRIVEN WOMAN TOOK UP HERE CROSS AFTER FIGHTING THE STRUGGLES OF BEING CHAINED TO HER SOUL TIES HERE IS A SNIPPET OF WHAT LATASHA MCFARLANE HAS TO SAY IN HER CHAPTER
This was the song the guy who I thought, for years was my soulmate, use so sing to me. I met this guy back in middle school when I was just ten years old. He made me laugh, and we clicked from the moment we met. By the second month of school, I was his girlfriend, his “baby girl” to be exact. I know what you’re thinking, what is a 10 year old doing with a boyfriend? I asked myself the same question. Now, I am thirty years old and a Christian (saved) with my own children wondering, what was I thinking. The simple answer is, I wasn’t! I was searching for love, or what I thought love was. Growing up in a home without a father impacted me greatly. It was the beginning of the insecurities that paralyzed me for years to come. I had my mother – well she was there but I hated her. I felt like she loved my brothers more than she loved me so we couldn’t have a traditional “mother-daughter” relationship. Because of that, I kept a lot of my thoughts, feelings and emotions to myself. When I began to have feelings for this guy, I didn’t tell my mother, so even if she
wanted to, (and I am sure she would of) she couldn’t stop me from being in the relationship that almost took my life.
Please support me and these brave ladies who have written this book. Message me, leave a comment down below if you are interested in getting your own copy!