Digital Project #1

How my pain continues to shape me

I grew up in a decent sized house with my mother, my grandmother, my grandfather and my little sister. My most detailed memories in that house are of hot sunny days. Climbing the tall sculpted tree in my backyard. Digging out weeds from my grandmother’s garden. I remember our dog lady. My grandfather used to play this game we liked to call the lady machine. He would hold us over the top of the couch and call her name. She would run over, and before I could get another breath in, my face would be covered in slobber. My grandfather was a great example of what a father should look like. I honestly take him for granted a lot of times for how amazing he was to my sister and I. He’d spoil us rotten. We would go to carnivals and ride all the rides and eat all the foods. We would go fishing, so often that my sister and I had our own mini pink and purple Disney fishing poles. 

When you are young, it’s very easy to be manipulated. Although my grandfather was a good man he was also a very manipulative man. My grandma and grandpa would have these fights, they would argue about Olivia and I. They would argue about things in the house, sometimes it was really stupid. They always had to drag my sister and I into it. My grandma would go out for a smoke and grandpa would convince us grandma was in the wrong. He would ask us to take his side. So we did, every single time. He painted a picture in our minds that grandma was no fun. She only wanted to ruin it. Papa was always fun, so we easily took his side.

 One year my sister and I went over to their house. We had planned to spend the night and then the next morning go to six flags. That night my grandma and grandpa fought over something stupid. My grandpa did the same thing he always did and convinced us to be against my grandmother. She got angry with all of us and called the six flags trip off. I was devastated. The next morning my mom called my grandmother. She convinced them to leave their personal lives out of ours and to take us, so they did. We eventually went back home that evening. A few days had passed and my mother sat my sister and I down. She informed us that she had some sad news. She eased in by saying my grandfather moved out and no longer goes to the church. Before telling us why she told us to not change our views on Papa and know that it’s only temporary. Apparently my grandfather had been abusing my grandmother physically and mentally since we were little. My grandma didn’t tell anyone till now. I couldn’t believe it. I thought she was in the wrong the whole time, but Papa had tricked me. He manipulated me. I felt so guilty that I didn’t see through it. I hated myself for being a part of his plan. He was the only guy in my life I could trust. How could he do this? For a while I held that guilt and anger, he eventually came back to the church and turned his act around. For once I actually saw my grandma smile. She was happy and I could see a difference in the way they treated each other. There was love instead of anger. My grandma was finally able to get a job. It gave me hope that men could change.

However not every man will admit their faults and not every man can be forgiven. My sophomore year of high school I was very immature. I made a lot of friends in the wrong places and instead of looking for attention from God and God’s people, I looked for attention from men. Every day after rehearsals I would ride the activity bus home. Every once in a while, there were a few friends I knew and I’d sit by them. We often would play typical teenage games like truth or dare, or would you rather. One bus ride I ended up making friends with this guy who decided to play with us. He asked for my snap and we ended up chatting the rest of the night. After about a week we became pretty familiar with each other and he ended up inviting me to “The Hill.” I had never heard of that place before and all he said was it’s behind the school and lots of people go up there. I decided to accept his invite and went with him the following day after school. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting to happen but I was so desperate for attention and ignored the tight feeling in my stomach. Walking up that hill I wanted to turn back. I knew it wasn’t right, but I still went. It started off okay, we played a few games. One being truth or dare. After that game he teased me and took my phone, so I took his. He cornered me in between a gate and instead of reaching for my phone he tried to touch me. That day I learned that all guys wanted from me was my body. I kept finding that to be more and more true as high school kept going. 

     Now that’s not the only way men have hurt me. I grew up without a father. Not having a father in my life caused me a lot of pain and insecurities. I looked for attention in all the wrong places, never once had a good friendship with a man, and constantly told myself I was worthless or unwanted. I haven’t always been without a father though, in 2018 my mom got married to David Antonio Smith; my sister and I’s step dad.  I was so excited to finally have a father, my sister could care less. For me it was like a dream come true. My whole life I had longed for a father. To go on those daddy daughter dates and learn how to play sports and watch my family finally be complete. I soon came to realize that not all fairy tales are real. David isn’t a horrible step dad but I was 15 when he entered my life. I had created these high expectations that weren’t realistic. He had never had kids before, and had never been a husband before. So I didn’t get those daddy daughter dates. I got shoes. David loved shoes. So I began to like shoes. That way we could have something in common. I soon began to realize I didn’t like shoes. I Liked the idea of having something in common with him. I started to get jealous of my little sister. She was a lot younger so he was able to connect with her more. They’d go on those daddy daughter dates that I’d dreamed of. He’d teach her about video games. My sister actually liked shoes and they bonded over that. I felt alone, and unwanted.

My life, just like most, has been filled with experiences good and bad that has shaped me to be who I am now in some way. My pain however and the things I have been through have shaped me the most. My pain does not define me but it has strengthened me.