The Collection:The Struggles of Young Women_PDF Version

\"Who would ever do something like that?\" asked my mom n horror. She placed her head over her heart as if she felt the pain directly. \"That poor poor man.\" We would. We would do something like that. We were cowards. We were monsters. And I would never forget that. 

65. The Box Labeled Sensitive \"Stop crying!\" His yelling only brought on more tears that wouldn't stop. \"I'm sick and tired of your crying. All you ever do is cry! You're just too sensitive. I don't think I can do this anymore.\" he said frustratedly grabbing his jacket. \"I've got to get out of here.\" Then he walked out. It's not the first time he's done this. We'd argue. And I would cry. Sometimes it was because of the strength in his voice as he yelled, it could be terrifying. Sometimes it was the unwavering anger that radiated off of him and towards me. Sometimes it was the way he looked at me, it was a look created by the absence of love, admiration, and sympathy.

I've always been a sensitive person, but was that so wrong? A romantic movie with a happy ending was enough to bring tears to my happy eyes, happy ones of course. My face was blotched and red. I cried more once I saw how I looked in the mirror. No wonder he doesn't love me. We've been together for this long and not once has he said it. Just thinking about how many times I've said it through text, over the phone, and to his face was enough to pump more tears out of my eyes. Was I that hard to love? Just thinking about how many times he ran when I cried was enough to make me cry some more. Not once has held me and my arms, whispering that he was here for me and that things would get better. He might have known something I didn't. Things weren't going to get better. Why was I disgustedly called sensitive for having my feelings hurt? I'm only human! If I wasn't sensitive, then what would I be? A cold-hearted robot. I was made to feel yet I was being punished for feeling too much. Was I supposed to get a measuring cup and measure when I was feeling just too much? Perhaps I should get myself a thermostat

to help me control my feelings and sensitivity. It just isn't fair. There’s just no winning, is there? If I show no emotions, I'm cold-hearted and no man wants that. If I show too much emotions, I'm overly sensitive and once again no man wants that. Sighing, I crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to my shoulders. I was going to start round three of crying soon enough. Maybe my mom was right, no man would want to marry a sensitive sissy. No man would ever marry me.         

66. A Lot To Lose Liam was beyond shocked when I dropped the news. I went to a doctor's appointment to confirm what the pregnancy test said. \"I can't do this without you.\" I said softly. His mouth remained opened and his hands were slightly trembling. \"And you won't have to.\" He said softly. I could see the apprehension in his eyes when I told him. But behind that apprehension was a firm resolve. I knew he wouldn't let me down. That was a year ago. \"I'll get Hannah.\" He said breathlessly. \"I'll get Henry.\" I said out of breath too. Hannah and Henry were a handful. You would think they've been walking for years instead of two months. They were running around the house with such confidence it was terrifying. \"Got ya, you little monster.\" I said picking him up and turning him upside down. He found the whole thing enjoyable. It was scary to think that one day he would be too big for this. Ugh, one day he'd be pushing me out of his room and complaining that I was embarrassing him!

I was planning to enjoy these years as much as possible because they weren't forever. Bedtime was when Liam and I got some exercise, it was like they were allergic to their beds. Once they were both tucked in bed, Liam began storytime. It was Hannah's turn tonight to pick and of course, she picked a book about a beautiful princess living in a castle with her family. Henry always picked something that had a car on its cover. I know they didn't understand most of it, but this was a habit I’ve always wanted to instill in my children. It was an early start to developing a love for reading. No matter what they say, reading will never go out of style. You need to know how to read to use the Internet, don't you? Once he read the last sentence and closed the book, I kissed them both on the forehead as did Liam. They were seconds away from falling asleep. ~~~ We've been in Holmes for about a year now and a half now. We moved right before I was due, away from everyone's calculating eyes. But I can't say that I didn't miss their calculating eyes. That place, that small town, will always hold a special place in my heart along with its nosy people.

It took time for Liam to find work again, but he managed to do odd jobs until he found a construction job once again. I knew it was aggravating for him to only find jobs in construction, but he sucked it up and did what he had to in order to provide food for the family. And I can't say I'm against the muscle he's been putting on. When the kids were asleep in bed, it was finally our time. I laid on the couch with my head in his lap. I loved feeling his fingers run through my hair. \"So, when's our next one?\" he asked. \"Next what?\" I asked smiling in the darkness. \"You know what.\" \"I want you to say it.\" \"Baby.\" He groaned. I turned around so instead of facing sideways I was looking up at his face. \"When are we having another baby?\" he asked. I tried to stifle a laugh, but it came out anyway. \"Man, how the tables have turned.\" And they've turned in

my favor because I've been wanting to tell him for days now! \"What?” he asked with a grin. I think Liam enjoyed my pregnancy more than I did. He looked forward to the doctor’s visits. He enjoyed the incremental growth of my stomach. He plastered a photo of our first sonogram every in our home. When they were born, I took them all down except for the one in our bedroom. “I told you I wanted more than one.\" \"And God blessed us with two in one try.\" \"And hopefully he'll bless us with one more. I love them little rascals.\" He said smiling adoringly just at the thought of them. \"They are so full of life. Henry's already protective of his little and Hannah... Well, let's say she takes after her mother.\" The knock at the door interrupted me from what I was planning on saying next. Liam's eyebrows furrowed together. \"What's wrong?\" I asked worriedly. \"Nothing, but it's a little too late for visitors, don't you think?\" He said loud enough for only me to hear. \"Stay here.\" He said switching to his protective mode. He walked towards the door and looked

through the peephole. \"It's the cops.\" He said nervously. Because of his past, seeing cops always made Liam uneasy although he had no reason to. He did his time for the crime and was forgiven. He opened the door. \"Liam Durham,\" \"That's me.\" He said. \"We would like to talk to you and ask you some questions down at the police station if you don't mind.\" \"And if he does mind?\" I asked \"What happened to staying put?\" Liam asked me through clenched teeth. \"I got bored.\" I said crossing my arms. \"What is this about officers?\" \"We're investigating some fraud that's been going on at David & Son, we wanted to bring you downtown to see if you know anything about it.\" \"Fraud? He doesn't know anything—\"

\"Amber,\" Liam said. \"Please, let's not make their jobs any harder than it is. If they want me to answer questions, I'll answer questions.\" He said to me. \"Just let me change and I'll be there.\" He closed the door and walked towards our bedroom. \"Why are you doing this Liam? You don't know anything about that, right?\" I closed the door slightly not wanting to wake the kids. \"And if I do? It's my duty as a law-abiding citizen to tell them what I know.\" Oh, now he wants to obey the law! Why didn’t he do that years ago? \"Which is nothing, right?\" I asked trying to keep calm. \"I wish it was nothing.\" He mumbled. \"Will you stop avoiding eye contact! Liam, please don't tell me you did anything stupid! Please don't tell me you did anything to jeopardize our family! Please don't tell me you're going back to jail.\" The next few years of my life flashed before my eyes and I didn’t like what I saw. I didn’t want him to do time again. I didn’t want to be a single mother. I didn’t

want to bring my kids to visit their kids in jail. I didn’t want to come in ten years and find our kids grown. He shrugged on a jacket. \"I haven't done anything Amber, stop asking questions like I've done something wrong when I haven't. I'm just going to go answer some questions, nothing more.\" He slid on his socks, put on his sneakers, and tied his shoelaces. I stared at him for a long time not saying anything. I've always believed him whole-heartedly but tonight I was finding that hard to do. I never had much to lose before. Now, I had a lot. I had a husband. I had a daughter. I had a son. I had a family. \"I didn't do anything. I would never do anything to endanger my family or jeopardize what we have.\" He

said. “I thought you of all people would know and believe that.\" He said brushing past me.

67. Meeting Your Father \"Mommy, where's my dad?\" It's always these types of questions that were the hardest to answer. My little boy was all grown up. At age six, he was talking more than ever and making up for all the time he lost when he was young. He was a man now as he liked to say. As a mother, your instincts are to protect your child no matter what and from anything. But how was I supposed to answer that question? Hiding the truth now would protect him for now but he's going to grow up. He's going to learn more and understand more about the world. The internet was full of information that could be found immediately, he would find out the truth eventually. And suddenly he would no longer be protected.  How was I supposed to tell him that his father was twenty-five-year-old Michael Sykes? His face has forever been ingrained in my brain and each time I looked at El, his face was all I saw. Same black hair, big oval eyes, full lips, and brown eyes.

How was I supposed to tell him his father was locked away and would be for many years? How was I supposed to explain to him how his father got to that point and why he couldn't come out and be with him like his friend Luke's dad? Lying would provide comfort but it'll only be short term. The truth might awaken sleeping demons, but it would provide me with a clear conscience in the end. \"Would you like to meet him?\" I asked. He was slow to answer, preferring to think it over. He nodded his head in the end. Michael Sykes would forever be a rapist in my eyes but he'd also forever Elliot's family. According to his mother, Juliana, he was a sweet boy who made a very bad decision. One that changed my life forever. Growing up, he was well-liked and helped everyone out. He was known as a nice guy. Somewhere along the way, he lost the right path. But he deserved a second chance to be the man she knew he was capable of being. For Elliott's sake, I hope that sweet and nice boy she knew was still in there.

68. Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder \"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and in my eyes you're ugly.\" I've never understood that saying before until now. Modeling has always been a passion of mine. I always thought I was a natural in front of the camera. Until today. To me, her saying that was like saying evil, wickedness, and wrong was based on perception.  To some people, racism was completely right and acceptable. To some people, the slave trade was necessary and profitable. Imagine if we were to say wrong and right was based on your perception. Rules are put in place for a reason, it's so we can have a common ground and a shared understanding of wrong and right. But beauty? It lawless, guided by principles instead. It can exhibit itself in many forms, colors, and shapes. Beauty has its own way. It’s hard to define or categorize.

Our eyes have seen society's standards of beauty and have judged others based on what we've seen. Our ears have heard of society's version of beauty. Our mouths have spoken society's standards whether we were aware of it or not. Our eyes? The one you seem capable enough to determine what is beauty and what is not? It isn't as trusty as you seem to believe, it's been corrupted by the lies and the images we've seen and the words we've read out Skinny Teen Magazine or Light & Creamy Skin Weekly. We're quick to label a darker shade of black, an absence of long hair that touches the middle of your back, a perfect size six or below or a deformity on the face as ugly. We're quick to accept the opposites as beautiful because it's what we've been told. It's what we've always seen. So, do you see? Your eyes don't get to determine who's beautiful and who's not. It's not a piece of art you're judging but a living breathing creature, one who dreams and loves, one whose dearest wish is to be beautiful. Don't you wish the same? Beauty is beauty. We all have our beauty which manifests itself in different ways. You don't need others to tell you of the beauty within you. The one

patiently waiting for you, its canvas, to accept it as it is. You can't change beauty; you can only change how you look at it. Once you do, you'll open up a world of wonders. Truth is, that old saying, was just another justification under disguise to sort people into two distinct categories: beautiful and not. \"Then something must clearly be wrong with your eyes.\" I said taking my bag and my headshots. Clearly, my beauty wouldn't be excepted here. Her loss, not mine. 

69. A Good Girl Why am I a good girl for saying please or thank? Why am I a good girl for being kind, soft-spoken, and patient? Why am I a good girl for calling my grandma periodically to talk about the good old days when I would spend the summer with her and grandpa? Why am I a good girl because I rather kill with kindness than with my hands or malicious words? Why am I a good girl because I work to get my grades above average? Why am I a good girl because my skirts reach my knees and my shirts are nearly up to my neck? Why am I a good girl for wanting to go to a university that tailors to my likes and educational needs? Why am I a good girl for surrounding myself with good girls with smiles reminding you of cotton candy and sweet Hersey kisses?

Why am I a good girl? I'm not a good girl or a bad girl. I'm just me. A girl trying to do what is right.

70. Africa \"The transatlantic slave trade from the fifteenth to nineteen century was mainly composed of Central and Western Africans,” said my teacher. His explanation was accompanied by a map. He pointed at the map, showing us the places he spoke about. \"They were beaten, captured, and brought to a New World in crowded ships where they would mostly die from disease or lack of food before arriving at their destination. About one to two million died during the long and arduous transport.\" He explained. \"The New World offered nothing but hardship. There, they were subjected to enslavement, physical beating, disease, rape, and death.\" I've heard all this before. This was nothing new. Frankly, I was tired of it.\"Mr. Spellmen, when will we learn about Africa?\" I asked. \"That's what we're doing right now.\" He was clearly confused. \"No, we're learning about slavery, servitude, and inhumanity as always when we get to Africa.\" I said sighing. I've been attending school for twelve years and more yet not once have I been properly taught

about Africa. When it comes to the continents, that's the one I knew the least about, and I was an African American! If you only knew how old I was when I learned Africa was not a country but a continent. It might seem obvious, but it wasn’t. What a disgrace I was! I ashamed by my ignorance but I did want to know more. \"I don't think I understand. He said lowering his hands from the map. \"When will we learn about Africa beyond slavery?\" I asked. \"They're more than people who were wrongly kidnapped and shoved into boats to be brought to a new world to be stuck in indefinite servitude.\" I explained. \"Don't get me wrong,” I added with the frantic waving of my hands. “That's an important part of their past! Something we should never forget but they are more than just that.\" What I knew about Africa was minimal, I knew of the Congo river only because of a poem I read by Langston Hughes in the English class. And I knew of the Nile because it’s the one I’ve heard referred to the most. I know of the popular animals that call it home because of Madagascar. Wasn’t it sad that the place that should be teaching me the most about Africa was teaching me the least, or at least a one-

sided version? \"And they're more than just the people we see on the commercials accompanied by a voiceover begging us to open our hearts and our wallets.\" \"I want to learn why they dress the way they do and why it varies as you move west, east, north or south across the continent.\" I said. I've always been enchanted with their clothing. I've tried it once or twice too. \"And the adornments they wear? Is it for custom or beauty?\" I asked. \"I want to learn how within the country there are fifty- four recognized states which two that have disputed independence. Why are some of the places divided? There has to be a story worth knowing behind that, right?\" \"Oh,” I said remember another point. “I want to learn about the mineral resources they have in their possessions, the one people fight for and claim that it belongs to them.\" I've heard they have diamonds and gold but I could never tell you if it's true. \"I want to learn about the laws that dictate how the people live and what they're allowed to do.\"

\"I want to learn about the rulers who shaped it to be the Africa we know, well I barely know, now.\" I couldn't name one if you asked. \"I want to learn why they come alive at night as the drums beat loudly to match the chanting of the people.\" It would be cool to have some idea of what they were singing and chanting. \"I want to learn about their accents and native tongues.\" They speak languages unheard of and unrecognized by me.\"I want to learn the cultural dos and donts, how does one fit into the different regions in Africa? What are you allowed to say? How do you act?\" Did he even know? Did he even want to know? \"I want to hear the stories passed down generation to generation through oral storytelling to keep their culture alive.\" \"I want to learn about Africa.\" I repressed softly. The slave trade just wasn't cutting it anymore.

71. The Cute Nerd \"Nerds aren't supposed to be cute.\" \"When have you seen a cute nerd?\" he asked her frowning. \"I should have never agreed to this date.\" Ginny arranged the date for us. I was her friend since middle school, and he was her best guy friend since high school. Ginny and I went separate ways when we went to high school. She hoped we would hit it off so I could stop being the third wheel when she and her boyfriend invited me out with them. But that didn't look like it was going to happen. I stayed hidden around the corner; it was close enough to hear what my date really thought about me. \"But Haylie is great. She's funny and kind and she's smart!\" said Ginny sticking up for me. I was angry at Ginny for showing him an old picture of me, it was nerd day on the day it was taken back in middle school. It's the only one she had of me on her new phone. \"But she's a nerd! You said so yourself. I don't want to be hanging out with a nerd all night.\" He whined. What does she consider to be fun? Spitting random facts that no one cares about? Science? Coding? Couponing? We won't have anything in common!\"

You've got to get me out of this Gin, she just isn't my type.\" \"Girl is your type.\" Ginny said crossing her arms. \"My standards go beyond just that, and she doesn't meet them, any of them.\" \"Well, I know when I'm not wanted.\" I said calmly coming around the corner. I was calm on the outside but angry on the inside. I spent hours preparing for this date trying to look pretty and decent for tonight. I more than enough work to do at home, like preparing my sales pitch, but I left it for later. I had high hopes for this date, but they all turned to dust by his arrogance, ignorance, and stupidity. I walked away without another word. \"Wait, that's your friend?\" he asked shocked. \"You're such a jerk!\" Ginny said grabbing her stuff. \"But she doesn't look like a nerd—\" \"What were you expecting? Large rim glasses, overalls, and pocket folders?\" she asked standing up to leave.

\"I wasn't expecting her to be beautiful, I'm sorry!\" he said. Since when did being a nerd define your physical appearance?

72. Little People \"How does it feel to be little?\" To me, that's like asking: How does it feel to be black? How does it feel to be white? How does it feel to be American, European, Asian, or African? It's just who I am. Why don't you ask me my name instead? Or my favorite color? Or even my favorite memory? The obstacles I feel each day remind me enough of my size, you don't have to do the same. My memoir, Little People, was coming along smoothly but I wondered how deep I wanted to go with it. There were some things a girl wanted to keep to herself, things that cut deep in my past and scarred me for life. For example, did I want to tell them how my parents gave me up for adoption after hearing I would never be the same as the other children they had? Did I want to complain about how hard it was living in a house with all tall people? It was a home with a set of two parents, two girls, and a boy. I was the youngest and the smallest as they liked to joke. I would always smile and laugh along but deep down, it was jab that made me wince on the inside.

The home wasn't friendly or considerate of my size. Most days, I felt like an obstacle. To reach the cereal box, I would have to stand on a chair to get on the counter and use a stick of some sort to push it off the fridge. Then I would place it on the cabinets below only to find it back up there in the morning. My step stool, the one I used to give me a leg up to reach high places was always being moved thus restricting the things I could reach. Did I want to go in detail about how the girls in high school ostracized me? How they treated me like an exotic animal? Both guys and girls made me feel unwanted with their looks. They figuratively and literally looked down on me. The teachers were kind, too kind actually. If I wanted, I could've taken advantage of their kindness. They would let me get away with anything because of my \"condition\". Did I want to mention the jealousy I felt at seeing tall models as often as I saw the sun shining in the sky? And those people on reality tv don't count, I wanted to see little people who modeled for a career! I wanted to hear their stories of inspiration. For once, I wanted to look at the cover of a magazine and say, \"Hey, that could be me!\"

Let's face the facts, if you're overweight you can do something about it naturally or surgically. If you're unsatisfied with your eye color, you've got options! If it's your hair, the opportunities are endless? But what can I do about being little? Nothing. Did I want to add a blurb about how my doctor recommended that I not have kids? I thought I was infertile or at high risk. That wasn't the case at all. He just thought the world needed deformities. Did I want to speak about people's ignorance? Besides knowing I wasn't tall and never would be, not many people know what it means to be a little person! Sighing, I knew I had to. This book wasn't just for me but for all the little people around the world who knew the struggle. They weren't alone and neither was I.

73. Take Care Of Me \"When will a man take care of us?\" I looked at my aunt, a strong woman who has fought hard with life, winning some battles yet, unfortunately, losing others. \"When will we have what they have?\" she asked pointing at the picture that hung above the sofa in the living room. \"I'm tired of the women in this family having to take care of the men when they should be taking care of us.\" She said. My aunt was the oldest of four sisters. She was married but her husband died a couple of years back, I don't even think she shed a tear and if she did it was tears of joy because it was deliverance day. My mom married my dad who was constantly in and out of our lives. June, the second oldest, was married to an alcoholic. A majority of her paycheck was used to fund his drinking habits. What little was left was for the bills. Simone, the youngest sister, wasn't married yet but was engaged to a man no one in the family liked. He was possessive of her and treated her more like a slave than a woman he was about to vow to love.

Each of them had children, having a daughter and a son ran in our family. So far, the girls in the next generation seemed to be repeating history. My oldest cousin Roslyn was pregnant again, it was her fourth pregnancy. Each time she was pregnant, she would lose the baby at about six months. We weren't stupid, her husband was the reason why. He worked her harder than a mule and hit harder than a boxer. My youngest cousin Esha was only twenty but was dating a guy who was like her father, a hardcore user. Then there was me. \"I know auntie, but I want to give him a chance.\" I was referring to my six-month boyfriend, Jamal. He was fresh out of jail and was trying to set himself on a new path. He was trying to find a job but with no avail. \"We're a team now, I can't just drop him like that. He's been here for me and supported me through so much already.\" \"Like what?\" she asked doubtfully. When I stammered to find examples to give, she said, \"That's what I thought. If I ever marry again, the man who dares put a ring on my finger better know and believe and agree to take care of me the way a husband is supposed to.\" She said hitting the counter with the palm of her hands. \"I'm done being

the one to take care of the kids while he sits in front of the tv! \"I'm done being the one to do the laundry, wash the dishes, sweep the floor, and do every other cleaning job in the house!\" She shook her head as she stared me down. \"I'm done with the emotional abuse and the lack of affection! I'm done working two jobs to provide for my family! To ensure that we have electricity, water, and a place to live!\" She let out a deep breath for the final blow. \"He will take care of me. Any man who can't isn't the man for me.\" \"Think about that.\" she said pointing at me. \"Think about if that man you're with, Jamal or whatever, is going to fight for you as hard as you would for him, protect you as you would for him, love you as passionately as you will do for him, and take care of you no matter the day, the time, or the year!\"

74. Mother Knows Best They have spoken. It was a done deal. Although I was allowed to take the stand, it didn't change the verdict. My mother and her lawyer gave me a thumbs up. I looked over at my dad and watched him hang his head low with shame. His lawyer patted him on the back. He would still be given visitation but that's not what I wanted! I wanted to wake him up in the morning to his horrible singing. I wanted to wake up to the smell of burnt pancakes and lounge on the couch on Saturday mornings watching Loony Toons. \"Come Jamie. Let's go,\" said my mother wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I shrugged her off wanting to be far away from her. She sighed following me to the car. I looked back at my dad one last time, wanting to jump back into those arms that's held me so many times. He smiled as he waved trying to hide the pain, but I saw behind his facade. \"This isn't the end of the world, you know?\" she said she drove us back home. \"Maybe not the end of your world.\" I muttered wiping the tears that fell down my face.

\"Am I really a horrible mother?\" she asked sneaking peeks at me. There was a sadness in her eyes. How could I answer that? Should I start by telling her how each time she belittled me or called me names it was like slowly pulling out one of those Jenga blocks from the tower? My confidence was the tower slowly being built up by the wooden blocks. Each time I got higher and higher, she managed to pull out the wrong block and have my tower crumbling down to shambles. Should I tell her how her constant insistence that I wear makeup led me to believe that I wasn't good enough? And I would never be. My face wasn't good enough in its natural form. My lips weren't plump enough. My skin wasn't dark enough. My lashes weren't long enough. My eyebrows were too hairy, and my nose was far too big. Should I tell her when she reveals my failures to her friends and laughs at their snide comments, I lose trust in her? \"What does he do that I don't?\" she asked softly referring to my dad. He loves me for me, and he loves me unconditionally.

75. I Love You \"I love you.\" I said rushed. It came out sounding like a mess, but I knew he heard me. We've been dating seven months and I haven't said it once until now. What are three words and eight letters going to do? Can it ensure we're together for the rest of our lives? I saw how often my parents said it, every day, yet it still didn't stop their marriage from surviving a horrible attack from an outside force or an ultimate collapse. \"Olivia, I don't want you saying something you obviously don't feel.\" He said crossing his arms. \"But I do.\" I said gulping. \"Turn around boys! There's nothing to see here.\" I said glaring at his friends. I didn't like them the same way they didn't like me. \"How do you know?\" he asked me warily. \"Isn't that what you always ask me?\" \"I know because—\" This was harder than I thought. \"Because?\" he asked.

When I didn't say anything, he turned to leave. \"That's what I thought.\" \"Because of how I feel when I'm with you.\" I said holding onto his arm. \"It's only when I'm with you I feel safe and secure. I know you would never intentionally hurt me physically or emotionally.\" I said whispering the truth I’ve kept hidden from him and myself. \"I'm never ashamed to be who am with you. I love playing video games. I love leaving my hair in a messy bun or wearing no makeup. I wear makeup like once or twice a year. Yet you accept me despite all the that and call me beautiful.\" His friends were sneaking looks at us from the corner of the restaurant. \"You—you make me happy; you make me smile, and you make me laugh. Anyone who knows me knows how hard it is to do that, yet you do it with such ease. You don't even try, you just do.\" I said. \"And when I'm upset or sad, you always seem to know the right words to say to cheer me up. You always know what I need... sometimes before I do.\" There were so many things for me to say, but I had to choose the readily accessible ones. \"When you're away spending the summer with your grandparents,

I lay in bed all day wondering what I did before you? I think of all the things we would've been doing if you were here and all the laughs we would've had.\" I opened my mouth then closed them again. Was anything sinking in? \"Because I can't imagine feeling this way about anyone else.\" I said breathlessly. \"And I hope you still love me too.\" I said softly. \"I could never stop.\" He said holding me tightly in a hug. I could feel his heart race as fast as mine, together they beat to the sound of the same drum.

76. My Fiancé Leslye and I used to be childhood friends because our dads worked together, and our mothers were pregnant at the same time. But she and I had nothing in common. She was back in town visiting her parents and my father was forcing me to take her out. Knowing her, I was going to have to spend some money. By some, I mean a lot. Her outfits altogether never cost less than five thousand dollars. Even her nails were done by people who had a known name. I was dreading this day out with her as much as I was dreading Ty's mother becoming my mother-in-law. That woman was vicious. \"Leslye!\" I said perking up. \"It's so good to see you!\" I opened my arms. \"Wish I could say the same!\" she said laughing lightly. \"You're exactly as I remember you, tiny and acne-prone.” She narrowed her eyes to get a better look at my face. “And you haven’t gotten rid of that huge gap between your teeth.\" She said hugging me. I smiled forcibly and muttered, \"Well, let's get this day started.\" Bringing her to her favorite place was

the worst idea ever, we spent three hours at the mall only for her to complain about how cheap and affordable everything was. She touched the items like they were dirty and looked down at the customers. Lunch was the one thing I was actually looking forward to, but it's no surprise that she managed to ruin that too. \"I heard you're getting married,\" she said chuckling as if it was a funny thought. \"What does your fiancé do?\" \"He plays football professionally.\" I said taking a bite of my salad, I was looking forward to getting a steak, but she surprised me by ordering for the both of us. Ty and I have been engaged for a couple of months after being together for a year and a half. He was an amazing guy, it was refreshing to meet a guy who was with me not for my name, my money, or my status. Ty was genuinely in love with me and accepted all parts of me, even those parts that weren't so pretty. All my life, people have pushed me to be something I was. Ty only pushed me to be, the best me I could be.

\"So… he's black?\" she asked with a blatant frown of disproval. Her nose was stuck higher in the air, I didn’t think that was possible. \"What makes you think he's black?\" He was but it was wrong of her to jump to stereotypical conclusions. \"He plays football darling, if a man plays basketball or football then he's got to black.\" She said scoffing. Her eyes widened. \"He is, isn't?\" she asked pursing her lips together. \"What made you interested in a black man?\" His race didn’t matter to me. \"Not his race for one, I didn't fall in love with that! I felt in love with him!\" We actually met a surprising way, at the gym. I had no idea who he was, and he had no idea who I was, making it even better. \"What could you possibly love about a black man?\" she asked. \"Are you about to become a step-mother too?\" \"He doesn't have kids—\"

\"That you know of.\" She said rolling her eyes. \"What's wrong with the guys your dad tried to set you up with?\" she asked. \"They weren't interested in anything but marrying me for money. Ty isn't like that; he's interested in me for me.\" \"Well, there's your problem right there.\" She said chuckling. \"He says that but give him a couple of months after marriage and he'll realize that's not enough. Money keeps them coming back. Personality is just a bonus feature.\" One more hour. That's all I have to get through, one more hour composed of sixty minutes. You can do this.

77. Giving Up Charlie was giving up on me with every failed pregnancy test. In one month, I must've taken ten already. \"I'm sorry.\" I said once again but he was already walking out the bathroom leaving me alone to clean up. I've said I was sorry over and over. Sorry for disappointing him. Sorry for ruining the dreams he had of filling our new home with children. I heard the door open and slam shut. He would back by tonight. He always was. He would climb into bed by eleven. Wide awake, I would move closer and lay my head on his chest. He never pushed me away, but he never welcomed me either. Would things always be like this?

It would be if I didn't give up, money isn't for everyone and apparently, neither are children.  78. Marriage Material \"But you're not marriage material.\" Lately, my older brother Freddy has been hinting about settling down and getting married. He no longer checked out during wedding scenes in the movies we watched. His eyes would linger at the rings in the jewelry section of the stores. And when he saw babies now, he smiled thinking of the day he would have one too. He wanted to get married someday but marrying him would be the worst mistake a woman could ever make. He wasn’t marriage material… yet. \"What do you mean?\" he asked. \"You're not the kind of guy a girl marries.\" I said softly. It sounded harsh but there was just no way to soften that blow. I played with the noodles in my bowl of soup. He was older than me by two years yet it felt like I was the oldest. \"Why not?\" he asked confused.

\"Fred, you're still living with mom.\" I said frowning. He wasn't used to living alone and didn't know what it takes. Imagine having to learn that and learn how to live with you’re at the same time. Fred was living in his old bedroom on the second floor of our childhood home. \"I used to,\" he said. \"You know I had to move back because her health wasn't doing so good.\" Mom was surrounded by family in the area, we could’ve created an arrangement that involved everyone else instead of letting it fall on the shoulders of one individual. “You couldn't visit her like every other adult child?\" I said rolling my eyes. Excuses. Although I didn’t live in the state, my parents received a visit from me about three times a year and a weekly call. \"Your idea of a perfect date is staying at home and watching a movie you’ve already watched.\" I said. \"Marriage needs spontaneity, you like to do the same things over and over and over.\" I explained to him. Not to mention, he wasn’t reliable, good at managing money, or willing to be flexible. \"I can change.\" He said softly. \"I can be different… if that’s what someone would want.\" I didn’t want him

to change who he was. My brother had good qualities. He knew how to make delicious food. He was a forgiving person with a giving disposition. His temperament was docile, and he never disrespects anyone. But he would need more than that to make a marriage work. \"It's not as easy as you think,\" I said patting his arm. There was a girl out there for him, but I don’t think he was ready for at this time. His shoulders slumped. \"Right now, focus on taking of yourself Fred. You have it in you to be a better man and a great husband one day.\" I said patting his shoulders. I didn’t expect to be such a downer during the lunch he was treating me to, but he needed to hear the truth from me before he got his heartbroken. “You just have some work to do until your marriage material. \"I thought love was enough… isn’t it?” he asked. “I want a happy ending… I want to find a suitable marriage mate and start a family. I want something like what you and Marco have.\" \"There's more to marriage than just love,\" I said softly. My parents' marriage taught me that. \"I'm sorry Fred to lay this all you today… this is not what either of us was expecting… but you’re not a lost

cause.” I said offering him a smile. “We just need to make you more… more marriage material.\" “What does that even look like?” he asked. Oh Freddy, you have a lot to learn.

79. Coming To America It was an exciting moment that was filled with dread. My heart was happy and sad at the same time. For the first time, I was on a plane. My heart beat quickly as the plane ascended into the air. It went through the same feeling as it came down. It landed in Miami. Everyone tells you of the good things about coming to America, forgetting to share the bad. It felt so good to see my mom after two years! Two years of living with aunts and uncles, and cousins. Two years of suffering. But now that would end. Or so I thought. By the first week, I was lonely. I missed home, my real home. The food here was bland and tasteless. The language was spoken fast and was hard to understand. There were so many rules to follow, rules I didn't fully understand. I was always inside, unable to go out as I wished. Back home in Haiti, the doors were always open. I was always going somewhere; I could be running errands for an entire day, heading to the market to buy a fish head or a goat for our meals. I could stop to pick up the clothes my aunt had sewed. Or I could be fetching water from the pump.

Most of all I hated the schools here. The kids teased me and taunted me. The girls pointed out the hairs on my legs and under my arms in disgust as if they were signs of uncleanness. I bathed and showered every day just as they did. The food they served would not go down, I began to cook my own food to bring along with me. The kids started and pointed at the rice and black beans. They scrunched up their noses. If only they knew it was better than their burgers and wings. They called my clothes second hand and cheap, they were but what was wrong with that? Cheap doesn't necessarily equate to horrible quality. I loved walking through Goodwill, picking out shirt after shirt and pants after pants to drop into our basket. Excitedly, I would run to my room to try them on. This was the first time I've had so many clothes. Apart from the bad, I was happy to be with my family again. My mom has changed in the two years I haven't seen her. She has lost weight, working day and night to earn money to bring me to this country. At night, I slept in bed with her, missing her smell and her touch. We'd joke and laugh at the good times we had. I would tell her how things have changed back home, and she'd want to know how life has treated me. 

With a small smile, I would say it was fine. I didn't want her heart to break knowing there were days I did not eat. I would be the last one to arrive home from school or from the market and all the food on the stove would be gone. There were days when she talked to my aunt who fed her with lies saying the money she sent was gone, spent on buying food and clothes for me. Most of the money was used for her children and their needs. There were days when my cousins found my secret spots, stealing all the goodies my mom bought and sent for me. She didn't need to know all that, she tried her best and that was good enough for me. Things would better, I hoped it did. I did come to America after all.

80. A Priority \"I'll make it up to you, I promise.\" Our plans changed. He kissed my cheeks before running off with his older brother Justin and best friend Carter. After catching watching the movie at the theaters, we planned to go down by the lake to watch a light show they were putting on. It was a one-night show, they wouldn’t be back until next year. \"There he goes,\" sang my sister Brooke. \"There he goes again!\" Now I was stuck with her. \"Shush please.\" I said rolling my eyes. \"Just drive me home.\" It was a direct path towards our home, yet she suddenly had three or four stops to make it. The longer it took us to get home, the harder it was to fight back these tears. I was excited tonight; it was going to be the first time in a month we would be spending quality time together. I missed spending time with him. With his new job and my search for a new job after expectedly being fired, I didn't see much of him. Sighing, I sat quietly yet impatiently as Brooke stopped at McDonald’s to grab a bite to eat. \"You want anything?\" she asked me.