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Where Do Broken Hearts Go?

Too little to take.

Little Girl

Many people dream of becoming a star one day. Whether that is to become a singer, model, CEO, Astronaut etc., we all have a moment. My moment started when I was just six years old, from the time I could remember I was happy; laughing, smiling, a bright little girl around family and friends. That light dimmed at the touch of my step grandfather. I never told my mom, family, friends, anybody. I sat with that pain for so long, acting out. I was angry, sad. I finally told my mother when I was 13 years old. She took me to the police, counseling... I had to draw out the picture of the things that took place. I remember seeing him standing in the bathroom door saying, “Come get in the shower.” Coming into the room, sitting at my bedside and licking my ear, rubbing my chest. I woke up and didn’t want to get out of bed. He and my grandmother were leaving. As they were walking out, he winked at me and smiled. I was never the same. At the age of 13, I was then again molested by my cousin until the age of 16 or 17. That was very hard for me. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want my immediate family to go to jail, or worse. I finally told my mom at the age of 28, when I wrote it in a magazine article. I want to believe that I will get better, after holding things in for so long... feeling alone and broken. There has to be light at the end... right?

Praise and openness.

Ever since I was six years old, I found that music was my outlet... I gravitated towards gospel music mostly. I am a singer. There is a certain feeling that overtakes you when you are well within your means. I’d like to say music is what saved me, or at least set me on my way. I’m not saying there were no hard times when joining the church again, because it was hard. Staying the course is hard, but finding your purpose is harder. I had my problems with the church itself, and people of the church; I had choir members talking about me, pastors and deacons hitting on me. I stayed away for a while, but eventually joined my cousin's church. 

Broken and confused.

In my life there have been so many times that I have been confused about the things that I want and need. I tried to be the girl that believed and trusted the process. I’m not sure what it was, but I didn’t have a normal childhood. I mean my first kiss shouldn’t have been my step grandfather, my first sexual encounter shouldn’t have been my cousin. I just wanted to be normal; I wanted to have a boyfriend—to have that experience. But, in school and life, I was very shy. I couldn’t walk up to guys. I would shake every time they would talk to me or anything. My mom decided to homeschool me, and that itself was okay, because I always worked harder and faster than most. Only the school itself was not accredited, so the diploma I received didn’t take me that far. 

Guys in my life.

I told myself I would be the best me, just like everybody else. So, I decided guys would notice me, and I would take my life back. I made a MySpace account; it was pretty cool. I found some people from my class that I knew. I then decided to add Facebook, a guy from a music group added me, and we talked. He wanted to hang out, but I found out that meant to sleep together. I quickly declined. I was scared, and not ready for that. I just wanted love. So a guy that was through a mutual friend added me—he seemed very nice. He wanted to take me out, meet my mom, and everything. I thought, "wow this can’t be real." Tony came to my mom's house, so nice as my mom loved him. He helped to pick her greens for her, so we sat on the couch while my mom went to get something from the room... He pulled his member out, and I freaked. My mom came back, and asked him to go to the store for her, and she asked me to go with him... I said "no," he said, "oh, come on, I won’t hurt you," and they laughed. In the car, he tried kissing me, rubbing me. I didn’t like it, and asked him to take me home. As the time went on, we texted each other. He wanted me to come down to where he lived out of town... My family thought, "Girl, yes, you need to live a little." I was still terrified, so one day he texts and says, "If you can’t do this, then we can’t be together." I thought he really liked me. What, is it going to hurt? We will be together, and things will be good. He came over to my mom's one late night, we did things, and took it to the next level. That was my first time. I felt like crap and instantly hated myself. He wasn’t texting, or calling, not in the mood. Nothing.

My love.

After that disaster of my first time, a guy that I went to school with messaged me, and we started talking for a good minute. Nonstop, all day, every day. He had a son, and let me meet him. I didn’t know how to act around other people's kids, but he was pretty cool. So he ended up saying he wanted to marry me. I wasn’t ready for that so soon, but I knew my father wouldn’t be there to walk with me, so I said yes. We had our baby girl six months before the wedding, and she was the happiest thing in my life. After we got married, problems arose. I found things in the computer between him and another lady at his job. I left, and left a note that I was never coming back. Eventually, he talked me into coming back, saying it would never happen again. There were so many things lacking: attention, affection, quality time. I felt alone. People from my past came back up, I had conversations I shouldn’t have had, feelings I shouldn’t have felt. Eventually, we ended up moving out and we split apart. 

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