There are about 11 million single parent families, with about 80 percent are headed by single mothers. There are many women I would hope I could touch with my story on how I learned to become a stronger woman in this world, Number one, never giving up hope. My name is Sherria, I come from a broken home. My father was a single dad, a self-taught artist who worked in Manhattan. My father being a hard-working man, worked overnights and slept mostly during the day, and worked hard in his art shop or the computer. He established the best father-daughter relationship with me as he could and taught me the important values in life. As an infant, I was abandoned by my birth mother, saved, and raised by my father who created a safe, warm, and loving environment within the doors of our broken home. My stepmom had not returned to my life until I was five, and with her, she brought her loving nature and my baby sister. Growing up, I became less lonely when my sister arrived in my life, but as happy as I was in my childhood years, we were also not like your typical modern family. I always longed for more family outings and more family activities to help build the bond between us all. Mother tried to take us places, although money was tight. I was bullied in school daily, and it was hard for me to enjoy it, I loved to learn. When I turned nine, we moved to New Jersey, and that is where part two of my life story truly began. The days growing up through grade school and elementary school became easier, and I was able to focus on my work and have more fun and less stress as a kid. But within the shattered pieces of what some may call broken, there I was alone for the first nine years of my life. A young soul that was sheltered from the harshness of the cruel world, although grateful to have been, had not been asked to be born into it.
My father did the best he could at keeping my childhood as what one would call “normal” as he could. Surrounding me with love and introducing me to educational and caring networks and shows like Barney, The reading Rainbow, Nickelodeon, and cartoon network. He taught me that no matter what you should always “treat people the way you would want to be treated” One of my first early childhood lessons as far back as my memory can serve me. I have carried those words with me and will always continue to treat others the way I would want to be treated. You would hope that certain kinds of people, the kind who do not care for other human beings, and commit selfish acts, or pure acts of evil, would take this advice. The first few years of my early life I grew up believing that everyone was equal, everyone was kind, and what was skin color? I quickly learned my very first days in daycare. That is a topic for another post, but for now let us fast forward to my indolence teen years.
As I became a teenager, I began to work part-time after school and hung out with the guys (juniors and seniors) after work, slowly wanting more independence. When I met my daughter’s father, he changed my life, not for the better, little had I known that I had landed myself in a seriously abusive relationship that went on for two years. I had dropped out of high school and began to work full time. At that time, it was in my best interest to save and move out and away from my parents. This happened after some of my counselors did not support my not wanting to remain in IEP in my senior year. My attitude at the time was, If I could not spend my day hours learning things I had learned in the previous year, I would be better off working full time. I had wanted my independence. Things had not worked out the way I planned I and found myself moving in with this slightly older Russian man who took me in after I left home. I later learned he was an alcoholic, something he hid well at first. He was mentally abusive as well as physical. I found myself stuck in that relationship for two years. He constantly beat on me whenever he was drunk, and whatever happy days we did have are forever lost in my memories. One morning, I felt a change in my body and spirit, and I knew I was pregnant before I officially knew. I knew I could no longer stay with him in his mother’s house, I knew our lives were in danger, so I fled to New York City to the homeless shelter, he insisted he followed. He was in the homeless intake shelter with me while I was just a month pregnant. I was there with him for about a month more during the interviewing process. All was all right within that time until his parents drove from New Jersey and snuck him a bottle of vodka into the shelter. He then began to beat me in ways you could not imagine at the shelter. No one would believe me when I asked for help, they believe the ‘white man’ over the young black woman covered in bruises every time, with our location being in Harlem at the time, that had come as a surprise to me. I finally got up my wit and snuck away while he was asleep and ran back to my father in New Jersey. Eight months later I gave birth to a healthy baby girl. I remained in this relationship scared to leave, until one day the father of my son rescued me from it. When my daughter was one year old, and for my daughter’s safety, to avoid us having to revisit the shelter, I painfully agreed for my mother to take her with her when she moved to Florida until I could get on my feet and meet them there. Her father was only tormenting us daily, he never wanted her. One month prior to her birth he dragged me kicking and screaming out of the bedroom and tried to throw me down 14 flights of stairs. He was a controlling dangerous alcoholic and abuser to women.
I continued to work and save, as days turned into months. I married the man who rescued me from my daughter’s father, and my son was conceived. We planned to move to Florida to continue our lives and get my daughter. Then, he touched the bottle, and became an alcoholic himself, leaving me to have to deal with most of the pregnancy alone as I continued to work until my 3rd trimester. I had saved most of my money as my father was helping me plan a move to NY for after the baby was born. After the birth of my son, the stress took a toll on his father, and he began to drink more and abuse prescriptions. The day came when I had to pack us up and leave and he fought me for the money I had so I would not go. He destroyed my father’s house and most of my son’s new things, the police got involved. This incident caused me to have to flee to NY faster than planned. I packed all the belongings I could carry, and my single mother’s journey began.
We spent hours on the bus to the city and hours in the homeless shelter, for my son was only 3 months old. Intake took almost 2 days, we had very little money and no food. I had no medical coverage, no food stamps, just the little money my father gave me before I left. After about 3-4 weeks in temporary placement, we were denied help and an apartment due to the private family homes we lived in for the past 5 years. I stayed with a family member for a while until my son was 5 months old. Her husband turned out to be an abusive man as well and he also laid his hands on me forcing me to leave once again. With the shelter’s denial, I had nowhere to go. Then my amazing uncle asked if my grandparents could take me in. Bless them, for my Life instantly got easier, I had a stable place to live, and I landed a respectable job as a photographer at Liberty Island. I was making a decent income and can now raise my child, pushing forward to the future for the moment to be with my daughter again. I remain in contact with her daily and have been watching her grow and mature via phone and video.
I feel that no matter how hard it gets or whatever obstacles that made be thrown your way you must remain strong and push through because it gets better. Whatever does not kill you only makes you stronger. And what feels like the end, is only the beginning. Here I am now, 12 years later, and in the prime of my life and my son is a healthy young boy growing, becoming a young man. My daughter is also healthy, becoming a young woman, and earned herself a scholarship and on her way to high school. I have accomplished so much over the years. I earned my GED and went to college. I invested in myself and now I will walk proudly across the stage in the year 2024 and receive my Assoicates degree in English Liberal Arts. I got my license and bought myself a car. I often think about the days that lead me to this point in my life. I let it be a constant reminder to keep pushing forward so I can continue to build on a safe foundation for my children and one day have my son and daughter together again in my arms, every day, and every night. I Continue to teach them the values in life and raise my children to become a better than their fathers and remember that strength and self-love is the key to success.
