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I’m a co-author!! Here are some snippets!!

Not about parrots but I had to share!!

Here are snippets of the ladies’ real life stories:

HERE IS SOME OF WHAT CO AUTHOR FLOETIC JUSTICE HAS TO SAY IN HER CHAPTER:

It was a few months before my 21st birthday. I was so excited trying to think of how Iwanted to bring in my champagne year. I was in college studying broadcasting for radio, television and film, just bought my first car and broke up with my boyfriend who was doing absolutely NOTHING for me. I was on cloud nine until I was told to take a pregnancy test. WHAT? Me? Pregnant? NEVER! A few weeks went by and it was almost Christmas, and because I went so long without a menstrual cycle, I felt it was time for me to take a test. I bought one with two in the package. , It was late at night and I did the pee stick test, waited and then cried. It was positive. I thought this can’t be happening, not at this time in my life. I waited until the morning and tried the second test, and it was still positive. WHAT? WHY NOW? HOW COULD THIS BE HAPPENING TO ME? What was I to do?

I turned to my sisters who were older than me by 7 and 10 years, for advice. They both advised me to think long and hard about the situation I was currently faced with. I was young, in school, single, never wanted kids and had my whole future ahead of me. It truly came down to “You should have your first child just in case you are not able to have any more.”

Abortion was not an option and was a sin that I didn’t want against my name. My

journey to motherhood started at that time. I called my ex-boyfriend to give him the news but, he never answered so I texted him.

“Hey, I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Stop lying.”

“Why would I lie?”

Silence

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know”

He then called me and again asked if I was lying. I asked him why I would lie about something like this. The conversation ended with no decision being made. All he had to say was “DAMN.”

CO AUTHOR KETSIA
“The Ugly Truth” Ketsia Midouin

“Mommy, how come the other kids at school have their dad pick them up from

school but I don’t?” I dreaded this question for six years before it actually came.

“Mommy, where’s my daddy?” Although I thought about it all the time, I was still

taken aback when my six year old son asked me that question. I tried a swift

response by saying, Mommy loves you so much that she enjoys doing the drop off

and pickup from school. However, by the way he was staring at me with his

inquisitive big brown eyes, I could tell that I wouldn’t get away with it so easily.

“Mommy where’s my father? Why do I never see him or speak to him? Does he

know I exist? Does he love me?” These questions shattered my heart in a million

pieces and I couldn’t find the words to explain to him what had transpired to

bring us to this point – the words to explain the ugly truth.

My son and I have always had a Relationship based on trust. I’ve always promised

to tell him the truth and expected the same in return from him. Yet, some truths

are way too ugly to explain to children. My son’s father and I have been

estranged since he was born. Although we live in very close proximity, there is no

contact. If I am being completely honest with myself, our relationship was very

unhealthy – marred with lies, distrust and disrespect. Wanting better for myself and my newborn, I made the choice to leave the

relationship.

HERE IS WHAT CO AUTHOR SHEVAUN PIERRE HAS TO SAY IN HER CHAPTER

I’m not going to lie being a single mom is downright hard. Some days it’s my mental stress and some days physical exhaustion. Working full-time, school part-time, plus all the other I’ve added to my plate is a lot, and that’s just me and four personalities needs from one end of the spectrum to the next, and now I need a container just to keep the food from falling off my plate. It’s like being on pause while people around you are still moving. Many days I feel like I am just floating through with no emotional connection day runs into each other without distinguishing features. Some days a simple comment, two or three of calling my name or speaking at once, or a phone call from the daycare to pick up a sick munchkin. It’s all a realization of just how alone I am on the journey of raising my four boys, a realization of abandonment, a realization of loneliness, a realization that keeps me going. All meall school concerts, fevers, meals, all me, all the time. Not to mention boys, I am a firm believer that there is a why I have only boys, and that’s okay because I trust in God, and one day I will understand.

As for now, I don’t deny myself of my emotions. If I need a day off or half day to sleep then that’s just what it is. If I need to cry then that’s just it is. It’s one step at a time, and that’s okay. I’m human too, and no less deserving of a moment to

myself. My son always says, “Mom, it’s better out than in.”

At 18 years of age I wanted to experience life. I wasn’t a defiant child, but my parents were super protective. Growing up, I was limited in my social life, and as for boyfriends, that was a definite no-no. I was born to West Indian immigrants, in a children were seen and not heard, you want something to cry for, speak when spoken to, do as I say household. There was no outward expression of love, congratulations, I’m proud of you moments. There was no teaching of banking, taxes, savings, cards, none of it. My mother worked jobs to provide, so she was home. She left before we got up, and came home as going to bed. She wanted to provide not only what was needed, but what was wanted.

HERE IS WHAT CO AUTHOR CAROLEE PARKS HAS TO SAY IN HER CHAPTER

Picking up the Pieces Final – Carolee Parkes

“Don’t ever touch my child again. If you do I will have you charged with assault. If you come by my house I will have you charged with trespassing”, were the words coming out of my mouth as I stood at the car yelling at the “new friend” of my husband who I was separated from.
My daughter left with her dad. I sat in the car in complete disbelief with so many thoughts going through my mind. I didn’t understand how my “husband”, allowed this female to touch our child in his presence and do nothing about it. As I drove away steaming with anger, I wondered, God how did this church girl end up in the same situation I had tried so hard to avoid all my life and actually thought I did the day I said, I do?
Let’s go back. Nine years ago I was in a long term relationship that I was sure was going to end in marriage, but instead ended in a horrible way. It left me heartbroken, and the seed of bitterness began to grow. I started to change for the worse, and that’s when I decided I needed to pull myself together. The year following the break up, I spent it focusing on healing my broken heart, and asking God to show me the lessons I needed to learn. It made me wiser and stronger than before. I had created a list of dos and don’ts while dating in church.
A year had passed when my brother handed me a phone number. I had asked a few questions before I agreed to call the man in question. However, I ended up calling as I was always open to meeting new people.
We spoke for weeks without meeting in person. Finally, we were going to meet and what better way to meet than at church. We didn’t have an instant love connection, but we were friends and I was okay with that. Several weeks passed, and we continued to talk all the time while he continued to attend my church. During this time, I began to develop feelings for this person. I started praying about it and seeking Godly counsel. I was applying all the lessons I had learned, and was determined to date in a way that honored God. I had a list of must haves in my Godly husband, and as he displayed them I began to tick them off my list one by one.
During this process, there were times I had doubts, and was hesitant but I couldn’t figure out why. I kept praying and seeking Godly counsel, and no red flags surfaced. In fact, just the opposite happened. So many things were falling into place. I was confident God was the foundation of our relationship, and my hesitations began to diminish.

HERE IS WHAT CO AUTHOR TASICA Q. FAGAN HAS TO SAY IN HER CHAPTER

The Marks Beneath My Skin
Tasica Q Fagan

I would have never thought that one day, one moment, I would have the courage – . The courage to dig deep into my truth and tell my story. This is my truth, my fear, my hurt, my reality, my joy, my cry, my passion, my desires, and my worth all in one testimony. Maybe, just maybe. I may have given up on you, “X”. I was stifling and you couldn’t see that. The man I once loved so deeply. “Not deep enough”, you once said to me.” I loved you. , I couldn’t hate you, but I hated how you treated me. Due to the fact that we were always arguing, I never actually got the chance to really explain to you how you made me feel and why we couldn’t be together anymore. We were both young and immature, ; in many ways than you may have never imagined. You blamed this all on me.? That’s not fair, because you know damn well it takes two to tangle, two to start an argument and two to communicate. Just admit it; you might as well tell the world since you’ve done a great job of turning your entire family against me. They will lie for you, they will cover you because that’s family, right? What about the truth? What about my truth, your truth?

“X”, I was mad at you for so long for not being there for me, and chose to be . For being there for your family and friends when we were making our own family. So much emotions came over me. I thought about when you never thought to run my bath water for me, and the only time you bathed me was that day, when you and I were in the shower together at your aunt’s house. I guess because we were having sex it must have been convenient for you to even soap up my back. You never took long walks with me , I never had those awe moments with you. Why “X”? This was our first baby, our first experience, but I was happy all by myself. I kept on smiling through it all and I just wanted you to be there. I walked a lot, I ate a lot. I craved pizza with; ground beef and pineapple with extra cheese. I drank plenty of fluids like the doctor said. Ugh! I couldn’t stand drinking all that milk either , but I did what I had to do because, it wasn’t about me anymore so as much as I wanted to stop drinking so much damn water especially for the prenatal appointments, I did it for our baby. I wore the proper underwear to avoid infections, I kept my skin moisturized even though it was super hot outside. Underneath my breasts were sweating and I think I owned maybe like two bras at the time. I remember I had an account with Scotia Bank and they closed my account because I had no money to deposit…….

HERE IS WHAT CO AUTHOR MILECA MAY HAS TO SAY IN HER CHAPTER

Mileca-May
~My First~

I was 16 years old when I entered my very first and long-term relationship.
Shy girl, dealing with a “kept quiet” depression that I never spoke about to anyone, but it was quite obvious and was starting to affect my focus, my goals, education, etc.
I’d say that getting involved in a “relationship” or just anything having to do with being outside of my regular routine was a great “distraction” for me at that point in my confused life. –And I say “confused”, as becvause I wasn’t able to determine, at that time, the cause of my depression until only recently, and as an aAdult now, looking back, it is clear, but that’s another story in itself-.

Despite being amongst the popular crew of girls at the time, I wasn’t one who was easily influenced by what my peers were into. So, whether it be name brand fashion trends, as I was known to always put the scissors to my cheap clothing, turning it into the “Ohh Girl, !!! can you please make one for me because ! I just love your style”, a definite trendsetter, I was never influenced by my peers. I was, a girl in my own world, until I entered the World of my “First’s”.…
You’d think that being the “shy/good girl” who took caution to herwas very cautious about her reputation would end up dating the choir boy, or the quiet but extremely cute boy everyone had their eyes on.

My “First”, was the “Star”of his Football Team. He had , with a body I believed only existed in movies, well over 6 feet tall, 6 pack abs, muscles bursting out the gate, smooth brown skin tone, and what a charmer he was. , On top of that, the epitome of a Thug, and not the type to “put on” just to make others fear him., I mean, it was in his blood stream, he knew no other way of life, a true Hustler on top of everything and these are things I admired about him at the time. I mean, how exciting…..and ! (distracting.) He was able to take my mind away from the every day issues, and have me focused on other things such as taking risks, which, at the time, to me were nothing short of “adventures” for me at the time.
I had given him my virginity, and after that came the onset of many other “firsts” within our relationship.
With him, I had my very first “spliff” (Marijuana) with him. Prior to that, , and prior too, I had never n’t even seen a “spliff” much less smoking one. –Exciting right?!-.

I had never taken public transit on my own before our relationship, and we lived approximately 45 minutes in distance of each other., therefore, I was taking one streetcar, a train and a long bus ride to get to his house almost daily., and a A few years into our relationship when we were taking more and more risks by the day, he eventually he put me behind the wheel and taught me how to drive.


Please support me and these brave ladies who have written this book. Message me, leave a comment down below if you are interested in getting your own copy!



This post first appeared on Parenting Parrots, please read the originial post: here

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