A Life that’s real and open

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A Life that’s real and open

For as long as I have known myself I have loved with a big heart; I have dreamed with all my soul and I have had passion bursting through the seams. This is a complete contradiction of any example set for me by my parents (who I do love).


My dad; they are lots about him I admire; he’s a family man; he goes to work; works hard and long hours for very little money; comes home works hard and long hours some more towards the beautification of his home and surroundings; wherever that maybe; then he goes to bed early; gets as much rest as he can before he does it all again; in between there he manages to do a little parenting and cooking. This is his second family I am talking about. He and my mother divorced when I was six years old and I have never experienced typical family life since.

I lived with my mother for the duration of my life and it saddens me to say the most valuable memories I have of family life and being taught anything of significance goes to my Dad; but if I said that to my mother she would be distraught and probably get so depressed; she’d try to kill herself; well at least; that’s the mother I use to know.

I remember; though our moments together are brief in the grand scheme of things; the moments my father and I spent together were of high-quality.

At age fifteen; my Dad gave me the “Everything” talk; which pretty much covered all the issues of life a teen faces everyday; sex, peer-pressure, friendship, etc, etc. At age eighteen we had an updated version of that talk. This discussion included my younger brother Shane. My dad was the one who took me to my Secondary school Graduation in a Rolls Royce (which he was driving for a job at work); he and my step-mom gave me a used camera (which I loved never the less) and two greeting cards as a Graduation gift; while I was in the car; that made me feel very special; even before the Graduation ceremony. He thought me how to use Knife and Fork; and tried to teach me how to swim. My father isn’t perfect and he has let me down quite a few times but those all-good memories are eternal and those are the memories no one can take away from me.

The happier memories I have of my mother are from my earlier years of life and they are so faded; I’m not sure they are real. I barely remember she use to make us a lot of fun stuff; such as nut-sweety, pizza, rotis, tamarind-balls, sugar-cakes, etc. She use to take my brother and me to the Drive-In often but I don’t know what happened. We all grew up, I guess.

Other than that; the not so-happy memories that stand out with my mom is how often she was depress; her fainting spells; mock suicide attempts; the negative things she’d say in anger to my siblings and I; how I could not go to her with my feelings because she was absolutely no help, her poor choice in a second husband and it just goes on. I’d feel really sad; if she read this but it’s my truth and I don’t know what other way to spin it.

So my parents; the imperfect beings they are; I do not hate; I love them and I would like them to find their happiness that they themselves don’t believe is possible and think they don’t deserve. Somehow; despite the way I was taught and raised my truth still turned out completely opposite to theirs. I believe in happiness, adventure, possibilities and that my husband of choice; my daughter; my future offspring and I are born for greatness.

So my dream is to live in the moments, soak up the sun, dance in the rain, sing with the birds, fly with the butterflies and run with the horses (figuratively or literally). Love hard, live hard, die hard. Honest to God. That’s what I want. I want the real spirit of Latisha to free herself from fear, inhabitations, lack of confidence, my past, the negative examples and teachings of my family and be reborn into the world as I see it.

I am not dead yet; so what the heck; my life starts here. Holla!

By |2012-10-31T08:25:09+00:00August 20th, 2008|My Journey, Real Issues|0 Comments

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