Well this is my first Blog.
I always loved reading blogs and I am addicted to Pinterest (like many of you are), but the thought of actually creating a blog and staying consistant with journaling my thoughts and emotions sounded tiring, and boring to me. I felt like if I were to make one it would be as if I was a 12 year old girl again, writing down how I felt that day, what I did, and what I planned to do.
I did not want to go back to that time in my life because it was a dark decade for me. From age 7 to 17 (literally a whole decade) I went through the worst time in my life so far. Which is hard to say because I am only 22 years old as of today, but, given the circumstances, you can vouch for me.
My mother got divorced from my father in 1997. My mom, my older sister, and I lived at my Nana and Papa's house because my mom couldn't afford an apartment by herself at that time. Skip ahead 3 years; she met a man on an online dating website. I guess she went on a few dates with him and things went well because she came up to me and my sister one day and said, "we are going to meet my boyfriend". Now I was 7 and my sister was 11 so we were very young and didn't quite understand what this meant. At least I can vouch for myself and say that I didn't. But when I tell you, when we walked into his house and I stared at him, I got a bad feeling, it actually happend. Again, I am 7 years old. (7 1/2 in my eyes) I did not know much about the world. I did not understand dating, or marriage, or relationships at all for that matter. All I knew was that Mommy said this was her boyfriend and here we were meeting him. I did not know that the next 10 years of my life were going to be how they were. I was an innocent 7 years old girl with a sister and a mom and her new boyfriend. He eventually noticed me through his swooning over my mother in front of us. He asked my mom, laughing, "why does she keep staring at me?". She just looked at me and laughed an "I don't know".
Everything was alright at first. We moved in shortly after, she got engaged, and next thing I know, almost exactly a year later from the day we sat around that table meeting him for the first time, there was a wedding. Most of you are probably thinking, why would this woman move her kids in to a strange house and get married in less than a year? Trust me, I still wonder about that to this day too. I never told my mom about that feeling I had that day we sat at his table eating spaghetti that he cooked for us. I don't think she thought that her 7 year old daughter would be cabable of having a bad feeling about someone. Again, I am not sure because I never asked, nor did I care to ask. What was the point? As a mother you should be nervous to just move your kids into a house of a man you just met. They should be no where near some random man at all. Now, I just want to say that I am not bashing my mother. I love her and she did a great job raising us. I am just saying that her decisions aren't always the brightest or in the best interest of her kids.
Life after that wedding never went up. There was no big climax after that day. The wedding was probably the only peak in those 10 years. The rising action would be my mom and him going on dates. The falling action however was everything that followed that wedding day. August 31, 2001.
When I look back on those 10 years, it almost feels like a dream, well nightmare better identifies it. The abuse, emotional and physical, was so ongoing. He was strict and old fashioned. He believed women should be seen and not heard. I was always told to never let someone silence you. That everyone have an opinion. That everyone has a voice. Everyone's is relevant and important. Now someone is trying to shut me out. No. My mother, for many years, allowed it. She believed that her kids were always wrong and we deserved to be grounded all the time, and to not be able to watch tv at all, or go out with friends. We even had holidays taken away from us if you can believe that. All because he manipulated her mind. He made her believe these things so my sister and I suffered. Many years later, almost 7, is when she woke up. Maybe sooner, but I didn't realized it until my sister left at 18. A goth/illustrator that spent her days in her room drawing, and writing, up and joined the Army National Guard. She never did anything active a day in her life. She needed an escape and a place to live and the Army was her only option at that point. It's so sad, honestly,
I continued living there with my mom until she saved enough funds to get an apartment for the both of us. We left March of 2009.
As you can see, the thought of journaling things brings back horrid memories. I touched on a few in this blog, but it doesn't descibe what actually went on enough.
But, lets begin this blogging adventure (yes adventure!) on a good note.
Hi. My name is Cynthia and I am a first time blogger
I have an 8 month old little girl named Somaya and a boyfriend/baby daddy (lol) Darian
I live in an apartment witht he two of them in Massachusetts (hope I spelled that right)
I work at a Kia car dealership by day and I am a bartender at a strip club by night (well weekend)
I love working both jobs even though it does take up a lot of my "Somaya Time"
I am 22 years old and I don't have a dream occupation anymore
I have a Business Administration Degree from Bristol Community College and I have really no use for it
I love bartending and being a mommy, but what else?
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| This is Munchkin Butt (aka Somaya) !! She's my everything |
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| This is me...at work. Shhh. Don't tell my boss I take selfies |
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| My little familia |
Please watch my life unfold on the "pages" of this blog. It's my story book, I just don't know what's on the next page.
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