I was born in Atlantic City, NJ, in 1965. I spent most of my summers on the beaches and the boardwalk watching all the tourists gather, from all around the world, to spend their vacation at the world’s biggest playground. I was molested from the age of eight until I was 12 years old. It was then that I began to make the streets my home.
As early as 11 years of age, I remember my mother having parties and gambling sessions in our home. I was exposed to a lot at a young age. We were poor and grew up on a rough side of town known as “Back Maryland.” My addiction started the first time I had a taste of alcohol at 11 years old. The first time I smoked marijuana, I was 12 years old. I started smoking cigarettes when I was 13 years old.
In 1982, I had my first taste of cocaine. I started out sniffing. Shortly after, I began to smoke it in my marijuana. After awhile, I felt like I just couldn’t get high enough. I was then introduced to crack cocaine, and my life quickly became out of control. My only concern was where and when I could get my next hit. I had to think of ways to get money, and get money fast. I tried to convince myself that I was making a fair exchange because I was not actually standing on a corner, so I didn’t consider it prostitution, but it was. I was using my body to pay for my habit.
In the summer of 1984, I went to Philadelphia, with some people I met on the boardwalk in Atlantic City, to a house party. The drugs and alcohol were flowing freely. I over-indulged and experienced my first blackout. I knew it was the grace of God that led me back to NJ safely. However, I still did not stop using drugs.
The day I overdosed was so clear to me. It was a cold and rainy night in October 1985. I had no money, no job, and no place to call home. So I did what I knew best—hustled until I could raise the funds needed to get high. It was a horrible cycle of drugs and despair. I found myself in a part of Atlantic City known as the Inlet. I hooked up with a couple of guys and experienced my first love for pills.
I thought for sure that barbiturates and Valium could erase all the pain from my past—the constant voices in my head, the abandonment issues, the abuse, the loneliness I often felt, and worst of all, the emptiness. I didn’t know then, but I know now, that I had a void that only God could fill. After a night of drinking, drugging, not eating or sleeping, it finally took a toll on my body. I had overdosed. When I came to myself, I was laying in Atlantic City Medical Center with tubes in all my veins and feeling the echo of death. I had no hope and no real sense of who I was or what my purpose was in life.
After my stay in the medical center, I was taken to Acorn Psychiatric Hospital. To this day, I still don’t know how I got there or how long I stayed. When I was released, I went back home to the same life of depression, hopelessness and despair, so the cycle continued.
On May 7, 1989, I was sentenced to 30 years to life for murder. I took the plea and ended up with the lesser charge of involuntary manslaughter. I was sent to Edna Mahan, the only women’s prison in NJ. Prison life was worse than the streets, but since I had to be there, I made the most of it by applying myself to the many free programs they had to offer: NA, AA, behavior modification, anger management classes, one-on-one counseling, GED. I even signed up for the Scared Straight program to warn young girls about the dangers of a life of crime and prison.
It wasn’t until the Amer-I-Can program founder and CEO, Jim Brown (former NFL Hall of Fame and actor), came to the prison that I began to see the hand of God upon my life. I got saved on November 1, 1993. It was the best decision God allowed me to make. Four years after I gave my life to Christ, still in prison, I was raped and forced to have an abortion behind bars.
Since then, I have learned the power of forgiveness. Just as Christ my Savior has forgiven me, I had to forgive others. Not an easy task, but possible when the love of God is rooted deep in my heart. To sum it up, I have been molested, addicted, battled substance abuse, overdosed, placed in a psychiatric hospital, abused by ex-boyfriends, abandoned by loved ones, lost my children to the state, been homeless and in prison. I can truly say that I’m not bitter. I’m better. To God be all the glory. He has allowed me to be an over-comer. My past is not my potential.
My future is so bright, I gotta wear shades. Praise be to God who always causes me to triumph.