My Childhood Memories

In june 1994 my mama found out that she was pregnant, this was a shock because my mom wasn’t suppose to be able to birth another child. I became the little miracle growing inside her. The doctor told my parents he was going to do everything he could so I could live, he was a christian man and he told her “we’re going to pray that God does a miracle.” December 5th 1994, a c-section was performed and I was born a premature baby that weighed 2.5 pounds.

I despised what she said when I left. I was engulfed in anger by not being the favorite. I was rebellious because I was different, but I always found my way to get what I wanted. Mother always fought with me though I didn 't know the reasons of her anger. My siblings teased me for being a carbon copy of my father and becomes the talk of the town. For whatever reason she had, it built grudges within my existence. I always asked why she hated me when I was the only one by her side.

Throughout my life I've suffered through nurmous horrific events. It began when I was born, when I was diagnosed with Poland syndrome. Poland syndrome is a rare birth defect characterized by underdevelopment of the chest muscle on one side of the body. In most individuals, (me) the missing part is the large section of the muscle that attaches to the upper arm on one side and the breastbone on the other, In women the breast will be noticeably different in overall size and nipple size. I attend a facilty titled "Touching You," for treatment and will later have corrections surgically made later down the road. When I was six years old, my father remarried for the first time to a woman who haunts my mind til this day. Her father took

Roy, Timmy, and I sat on a log near a stream. Roy was the oldest out for all of us, and was more logical in his thinking. He was approaching ten, and was starting to demand respect. Timmy Was a little bit older then me, and was quite disgusting. I was the youngest, and being the only girl, I was often picked on by the older two. My ideas were often consider irrelevant, and because they never listened, we got into more trouble than necessary.

The first memory I have is of my mom pulling me on a Mickey mouse blanket. In many ways my family, school and community have shaped the me and has made me a better person.

My mother was the person who traumatized me as I grew up. I was called out of my name, ugly, and fat. I walked on egg shells when my mother was at home. When I told my father of what she was doing he didn’t believe it, because when he was around she was kind to me. Nothing I could do and say was good adequate. I was beaten, burned and cursed for being alive. I was a premature baby and when I was born if it had not been for my father I would be dead. The doctors told my parents by me being so small they could not guarantee that my vital organs would function properly and my mother said well put her to sleep. My father said well if she dies it will be on her own and I survived. I was a six-month premature baby and I often wonder if my mother

year-old boy, my father walked out on my mother and four children. Leading up to that day, my

    I grew up with a bad past. I had an abusive father. He was unfaithful to his wife and neglected his children. My father favors my younger brother. He didn’t want me when he heard of my gender. I considered myself a failure. I wasn’t the child he had wanted. A few years later, my mother left him. She gained sole-custody of me and my brother. One day, he came to class to record me. I was older and understood why he didn’t want to be a part of my life. I became stronger and gained knowledge from the experience.

My biological mother was coming to Michigan to fight for custody over me. I put much thought into deciding what I would do if the decision of custody was left in my hands. I ran out time and before I knew it, I was in front of the judge with the power of making my own decision since I was sixteen. I stared into space and didn’t say a word, I still had no idea of what I was going to do. I thought to myself, do I leave the family that has raised me or do I go home with my biological mother that I had always wondered about for the past eleven years? Within a matter of minutes, I made my decision. I decided that I wanted to start a new beginning in my life. I chose to go home with my biological mother in Florida. This was the hardest decision I have ever made in my life so far. I was leaving a family that had raised me so well and going to live with my mother who was

When my parents divorced, I didn’t see my father often. The memories I had of him when I was young were usually pleasant, but very few and far between. Instead, I practically lived at

My mom and I walked out into the cold wet morning and walked on till what felt like hours. Without any explanation, as to what was happening I quietly stayed to her side. I could see the broken look on her face, of someone who had lost everything. It can be hard to explain to a child what divorce was and until I got older I still did not understand the concept fully. One of my earliest memories is waiting in line at age 7 with my mom at a crowded location. We were at the Department of Public Social Services. I stood with my notebook in hand and a pencil wanting so badly to leave and go home. Where was home exactly I did not know because we had moved across the country from Atlanta to Los Angeles after the divorce. A new beginning was what my

My biological father passed away the night before I was born of bone and lung cancer, leaving his 6 kids in the hands of his widowed wife, who did not have the means to take care of herself, let alone all of us. She stated that she would rather keep her lifestyle involving drugs and alcohol than to raise us. At three days old, I was passed along with my siblings to my uncle, his wife and five

I have a vivid memory of my grandma and myself when I was 6 years old. This was the only time as a child I was able to keep my eyes open on the “grown up” part. The movie was “What’s Love got to do With It” and there was a graphic domestic violence scene. The Woman in the scene was being beat by her husband, I remember being so scared. My grandmother sat me on her lap, looked at me sternly and made me promise no matter what never let a man put his hands on me. I made the promise then not knowing what she was asking of me. She was asking me to stop a vicious generational cycle. Months later that promise meant so much more than the connection to that movie scene. It became my reality.

As I take a look back on my life, I realize how great it has truly been. I had an absolutely amazing childhood and I am beyond blessed for it. I grew up in a home with two loving parents that have been with me through it all and now of days that is something to be truly thankful for. My parents taught me to strive to be anything that I wanted and that I could be anything that I set my mind to. These dreams changed throughout my life as I grew older and as I grew into the person that I am today.

My earliest memory stretches as far back as I can remember. I know all the details of my birth and the hospital when I was born in Farmington Hills, Michigan, but of course not from memory. All of these details have been hammered into my head by our parents. Many memories are embedded in our brains. Some are more retrievable than others. The way we remember these memories may have occurred that way or they may have been a little different than we remember. Now let’s see if I can rummage into my deepest corners of my memory and retrieve some fragments of lost information.