“Hello Gorgeous!”

Ambitious, impatient, and eager to be financially independent…

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I was raised by a single mother of eight kids. Though much of motherhood was thrown on my plate, occasionally a foster parent or two would relieve me of duty for a few years. My mother got pregnant at fourteen years old, turned fifteen, and gave birth too me two months later. I watched her battle with addiction, mental health, financial burdens, irresponsibility, and her own childhood trauma. We basically grew up together, and from her mistakes, I learned too make my own…

As you can imagine, it couldn’t be easy raising eight children. Why she had eight kids? I have no idea, I like to joke and say, “We had cable, she just didn’t watch it much.” Just kidding, we didn’t have cable. I think part of it had to do with her first miscarriage, I was a little under three, but I remember the amount of blood she lost and knew even than, that it was far to much to be an ordinary boo-boo. About a month after her first miscarriage, she got pregnant with my first sibling, a little boy.

We share the same father, and though he’s went on to meet him, and build a relationship with this stranger, I never had that urge. The way I see it, it wasn’t my responsibility to convince a man I was his off spring, nor my responsibility to create a bond, that no one wanted to begin with. Instead the man who created my next sibling, is the one most responsible for my up bringing. I remember him most because of all my moms failed love attempts, he was the one that made sure to take notice of me. He brought snacks, toys, and gifts for both of us, each time he came over. The time he spent with my mom wasn’t just in her room, but taking us out, spending quality time together at the park or beach and treating me as his own daughter. My first sibling, even carries his last name.