"I had a team to help win a championship. I felt like there were more important things, unfortunately [than my son]. When I say that now, it makes me sick to my stomach."
I couldn’t understand, from the civil war and being exposed to dead bodies, abuse, and suffering, from being in shelters and then coming to America thinking “finally”.
From the very beginning my real dad told me he loved me, but left. He may have loved me, but I don’t know. Then a step dad came in, and said he loved me and my mom, but would also tell me to not tell. It started with fondling...
My brothers and I were separated. When we came back together in our parents home it wasn’t any better. There was still a lot of abuse going on, so I moved back out the spring semester my senior year.
"But God had to teach me that none of that matters, that He was going to be my Father and that He was going to teach me and help me."
I didn’t know if God loved me. I was just so desperate. I started to try to find my identity in relationships with guys.