I grew up as a little girl without a father and that wasn’t a big deal since plenty of people grew up without a mom or a dad. However, I knew he was alive and that he lived in Canada. It wasn’t until I noticed my older sister would receive letters and money from him but I never received anything from him, that not having a father became a big deal. I would wonder why my sister received things from him and never me. We had the same birth father, but somehow I was different and I didn’t know why. One day, while eavesdropping, I found out the truth. What I heard changed me. My father never wanted me and he wanted my mom to abort me but she refused. He was not going to take care of me or recognize me as his daughter. I was flabbergasted when I heard this piece of news. My own flesh and blood did not want me. I had never seen my father, and yet the rejection and pain caused me to ask many questions about myself. What did I do to deserve this? Why did he choose my sister and not me? Am I even worth loving? Am I enough?
My mom was also absent most of my young years. She moved to America when I was three so she could work and send money back to us in Haiti. She left me in the care of my brother and his family. My physical needs were taken care of, but my emotional and relational needs were not. I could not tell you a day when I heard ‘I love you’ said to me, I knew they cared for me but my family did not express themselves very well. I learned to keep things to myself and not express what my thoughts and opinions, as they were not received very well.
In 1996, I came to America and settled in Orlando, Florida. My mother came back to Haiti for me. I was 15 years old. Already set in my ways and now I had to start a new life. My mom and I had to get to know each other, we were basically strangers. I had to get to know this new country, new language, a new way of life. With much hard work, I made it through an American high school. I learned English and now had to decide what I was going to do with my life.
With high school behind me I wanted to go to college to become a social worker. I love serving people in need, but that idea was quickly shot down because social workers do not make much money, and my mom was worried that if I went back to Haiti, Social Work would not be a money making career. I thought I would like to become a missionary, but before I could finish my sentence expressing that desire, it was quickly shot down. My mother said I should be a nurse; it would be good money and a career that could transfer back to Haiti. With that, I moved to Tifton, Ga and enrolled in nursing school. I spent one year in nursing school and moved back to Orlando because I missed my family. It was a mistake of course because I should have stayed. To make a very long story short I was set on not going back to school for what my family wanted.
I started to just exist and not really live, but in that existing I felt something crying inside me to do more, to be more. To Live, to be fully alive!
A longing was stirring in me, but I became distracted by a few different boyfriends, more heartache, and more questions about my ability to be loved. I felt like a disappointment to others and I really started to struggle with loneliness and abandonment. So the only thing left to do or could do was not letting anyone get close to me.
But the longing was still there…
