Mentor Design and Decor

Must Be More To Life

Growing Up I lived in a crime-filled neighborhood. There were drugs, prostitutes, gunshots, robbery, and several other illegal activities. Most of the people around me wanted at least part if not all the action. I remember walking to the corner store in the middle of the day seeing a dog being hanged. Likely it lost a dog fight. I went home and did not even mention it. Probably because that was scary, I was only in elementary. All this was the norm. I was not educated about the dangers of these illegal activities. The homes in my neighborhood were falling apart on the outside and inside. Vacant lots made a good place to play football with the boys. I was a tomboy as a young girl. I was influenced by my surrounding as I began making my own decisions. Alcohol was easy to get, and I did consume in my early teens. Drinking liquor at that age was not frowned upon by the adults around me. Even back then I turned to drinking to escape reality. I would want to dress like the promiscuous girls on my block. Not fully understanding the message I was sending out to the world. By age 15 I had become one of those promiscuous girls. I did not use my body nor charm to make money. My first of many jobs was working at McDonalds. Waiting on the public bus late night by myself was too dangerous, one of the reasons I quiet. Fights and being threatened at gun point were just part of the culture. I witnessed shooting, intense arguments and fist fights right in front of our house. I did not know fighting in such a manner was not considered a social norm. When I turned 16, I got my first tattoo, my mom got one too. I continued getting tattoos till I was 24. The pain became something that took my mind away from my real pains in life, at least till the tattoo stopped hurting. I would get away from home and my neighborhood as often as I could by age 16. I knew I did not want that lifestyle. I would get to leave permanently on a short notice. Our home went into foreclosure. If I was not so busy being gone, I might have noticed sooner. My senior year of high school was spent moving between a friend and family. During my first year of college I lived with my oldest sister. My big escape came when I joined the Army Reserves. I knew there, "Must Be More To Life," than where I grew up.