When I was maybe six or seven years old, I fell asleep on the recliner watching a movie with all of my brothers, as I did many weekends. This night was different. I woke up in the middle of the night to someone touching me, inappropriately. I was so young, I didn’t know what was going on, so instead of WAKING UP, i started tossing and turning. As soon as I did my older brother slipped his hands out of my pants and ran back to the couch, very quickly. I rolled back over and tried to go back to sleep. Never said a word to anyone about it, except for my older sister but not for another 20 years. Only because that same brother had done the same thing to her when she was younger.

What sucked is this brother is my moms only son, so even after my parents divorced he was always around. Even though this happened well over 20 years ago, it has stuck with me, embedded in my brain. I would never let him watch my daughter when she was younger (Or ever, but as a heroin addict no one questions my reasoning anymore) I always feel extremely uncomfortable around him.

My brother, as I mentioned is a heroin addict. He has seen my nephew less times in ten years than i have fingers on one hand. My mother had custody of him at one point, and now she gets him for holidays, long weekends, summers. All of the times that he could be seeing him, my mom gets him. He is not aloud anywhere near him. Every time he gets sober for any small length of time, he relapses. He refuses to do the right thing when it comes to my nephew.

Everyone assumes that is why I have really distanced myself from him over the last five years. More distance than normal. I cant even bring myself to accept his FB request. I lost my baby brother to a heroin overdose three years ago this summer. If I could go back and be more present in his life, I WOULD. So, that cant be it.

This was not the only time my brother touched me inappropriately, but it is the first memory I have of the abuse. Its not like I could tell my mom next time hes sober and she tells me to give him a chance. I do not ever see a chance in his future.

until next time…



My biggest fear having a tween daughter is sex. I want her to know all of the things no one ever taught me. At the same time I do not want to expose her to things that might make her curious too soon.

I lost my virginity when I was almost 15. I knew it was a mistake before it even happened. The whole situation was so cliche its hard to believe. If were being honest his penis was so small, I am not sure I actually lost my virginity that night. All of my good friends were in relationships from seventh grade on. Saying they were sexual active, well that is putting it lightly. My view on sex and education on the matter, or lack there of, all came from my overly sexually active peers. Daddy issues, maybe? Peer pressured, oh yes! I am not sure I have ever actually been honest about my first time experience. IT RUINED SEX FOR ME.

Here it goes…

My friend was dating the brother of a guy I had always had a little crush on. We were invited over to swim in their pool. Long story short, I went to the bathroom, lets call him James, James came in a couple minutes later, after I turned the water on to wash my hands. Oddly perfect timing. He kissed me.  At that age I was a bit of a push over when it came to boys, I couldn’t have said NO if I wanted to. Not that I knew what I wanted. If I said no, id ruin my chances right. So I just went with it. He backed up and sat down on the toilet and i uncomfortably sat on his lap, as we continued kissing. He could tell I was uncomfortable, so he stopped, asked me if i was okay. I looked away and said “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” and stood up. There was my chance to bolt. Then I thought of how I was the only virgin in my group of friends, always out of the loop in those conversations. He stood up behind me and started kissing my neck, so I turned around. He lifted me up on the sink, and the rest is history.

It was over before I knew it. I had always herd it hurts, you bleed, well no. He was so small it hardly tickled my fancy. Regardless of my awkwardness, I was def as in the mood as I could be as a  14 year old virgin. Without going into too much detail, he denied that ever happened. Luckily I was so ashamed of myself I only told the friend I was with. YAY  for me teenage HS girls are fucking bitches, so she told all of our friends and eventually it went around the whole school. He denied it and no one believed him. WHICH IS WORSE THAN IF THEY DID. The girl who lost her virginity to a racist asshole who used me to get his rocks off, and ruin my summer before school was even out. At least we only had a month before summer.

One thing I know for sure, every sexual experience you have sticks with you for the rest of your life. Of all the things I have forgotten in my life, sexual mistakes are not one of them. Happily married with children, and my sexual past still haunts me.

until next time…


One Saturday I walked into our apartment and there sat my dad and little brother.

BACKSTORY: The man I  call my dad today is a white man who entered my life when I was almost 10. He gave me the best sibling i could ask for, my little brother. It wasn’t his child, it was a child he helped his ex raise. When they split up, he stayed in his life, the way his biological father never did. My biological father will from this point on be refereed to as Daddy Black, in real life I call him by his first name.

Little did I know this wasn’t some short term fling like the last few guys my mom had dated. Once I realized this guy was trying to stick around, I started doing everything I could to make him change his mind.

I started this earlier, I don’t feel like writing what i was going to write anymore.

until next time…


When your spouse goes to prison, you can essentially divorce him/her for little to no cost. My mom being the smart woman she was took that bit of information and ran with it. Smart girl, however at 9 years old I was pretty pissed off about it.

“How dare she break apart our family.” Wise words of a fourth grader.

My life did a 180 flip so quick. I don’t remember the transition, I just remember it being changed. I had lived in a better neighborhood, and was getting a better education, my mom had a better position at her job. Things were looking up from an outside perspective.

My mom was in recovery, Alcoholics anonymous. If I am being honest i never remember my mom drinking. Like never. So in my mind she was either a liar, or a closet drinker. Or maybe my childhood was so fucked up that i didn’t realize her problems were a problem, because it was normal. Maybe the drink she always had in her cup wasn’t juice. Honestly who am I to say. She started going to meetings, a lot. AA dances, picnics, AA parties, our life really revolved around AA. It was good for her, it was good for me. Stability, something id never really had before. She had great friends, no drugs, happy weird people. If you have ever experienced AA people you’d agree they’re all weirdos. And I loved it.

Then my mom started to date. She dated everyone, she involved me in her relationship choices in ways a 9/10 year old should not be  involved in. She dated more than one guy at a time. She probably still doesn’t know to this day how that effected me in a negative way.

BACK STORY: I have ADHD , that came along with some pretty bad anxiety issues, and OCD, which I have been lucky to manage as an adult with out the help  of Big Pharma. My mom and i argued A LOT.  I use the word argue lightly. She called me a stupid nigger like my dad, smacked me with a belt a few times, told me how much she hated me, blamed me for things that could not possibly be my fault. I kicked her in the stomach once, told her how much I hated her, threatened to run away, call the cops on her (and the cops ended up being on my moms side). There was a lot of animosity. I knew my mom loved me. And I loved my mom, we just had some struggles showing it.

until next time…