Last week I took a huge step in posting my story and I must say that it felt quite liberating. I had spent so much of my time hiding from who I was and all the struggles that I went through that I never took the time to realize that all the pain made me who I am. Each hurdle that I adjusted to and overcame mad me into a stronger, kinder, and patient person I am today. I know many of us see every obstacle as just that but sometimes we all need to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. Not every day will be filled with frustration. So take your time and realize that theres always a rainbow at the end of every storm no matter how long that storm may seem. So as promised here is the second part to my story: A Trial Subscription to Life. If you missed the first part click the link below to read it. #YouAreNotAlone

Diary of A Former Nomad: My Story, Part 1 

It was warm and sunny day the skies were bluer, the air was crisp and was laced with the scent of salt. The sun seemed brighter– actually all the colors did. An island in the lower region of the Caribbean Sea is where I’d call home for the next two months or so I’d presume. My aunt and I went to live with another one of my mother’s sisters. My aunt was escaping a cold husband and I was being sent away from parents who told me otherwise.

 

I remember very clearly the day I found out the vacation I was told I was going on was a lie. School was starting and I kept wondering when I would be going back home. I was about five or six years old. The day will forever be imprinted on me. I received a uniform and books and was told I would be going to school. No one ever told me I wouldn’t be going home. And to this day no one has ever told me the truth behind this event. It would be years later that I’d figured out the truth that my parent’s separation was the reason I was uprooted. Everyone adjusted to the harsh way of life and no one said a word.

 

After this, the days blurred together–everything blurred together. Days became weeks and weeks became months and before I knew it, a few years had passed. The memories I had of my parents faded. And the person I once was grew colder yet more optimistic daily. I saw my aunts’ husband abuse her with words and knives and left her running for her life. I saw myself dwindle in size and character.

I felt unwelcomed and unwanted. I felt a deep pain within like I was a burden to these people. I had been dropped on their doorstep with a ‘help me’ sign attached. I felt guilt for eating too much, I felt stupid in school because I didn’t know much, and I felt trapped everywhere I went. There was no one on my side. I was bullied for doing the right or wrong. Even in school I was an outcast. I was the poor little beggar girl; I never had money to buy anything. Being maybe 7 and seeing everyone with candy and not having any is literally like being a kid in a candy store and being told that you couldn’t have any. Occasionally asking to try one got me labeled as the beggar. And suddenly I became the outcast. I played by myself. I had few friends but they too never wanted to be seen with me. My cousin who was the only person I knew there would leave me as soon as we got to the gates. I was left behind and left out. Through it all, I somehow never let that powerful sadness consume me, I tried every day. I tried and tried. I ran from bullies, both friend and foe. I tried to remember my life before. I tried to remember my parents, how they felt, how they smelled, even how they talked but it had been too long and I had been gone too long.

 

The years had passed and the vibrant island became washed out and smaller than ever. I was drifting and in the midst of it I felt change in the air and soon enough I was on a plane back to a distant home to start over yet again. Another subscription had expired and it cost me my childhood. I was cold and hurt and lost. I was betrayed and corrupted. But misery loves company and more of this was to come.

Stay tuned for Parts 3 & 4 of my story: A Trial Subscription to Life.