The First Lie

I was not conceived out of love as my mother once told me. 

I remember the album she kept: full of correspondence of their courtship.. the small note that accompanied the flowers she received from him after she gave birth to me addressed "wife" and signed "husband". I lost that album…

I wonder if I was conceived by force.

And I wonder why he requested she abort me when she told him I existed. 

I thought I was fifteen when she told me the story about the request for an abortion but, as I write this, I realize it was after my fifteenth birthday and before my seventeenth. I will have to review my timeline. Nonetheless, it was around that time of life where others were enjoying their youth. While I grappled with the truth my mother confided in me, I struggled with my identity and with my place in the world. 

I do not believe I have ever felt safe a day in my life. Not even in the womb. 

I am surprised I have lived long enough to tell you my story. And I do not know if I will live long enough to finish it. But I am here today, willing to tell you, because I cannot bear this sorrow any longer. 

This society has many children like me; conceived, birthed, neglected, abandoned, and left to their own survival. 

This journey began with the life of my great grandmother. Her influence over my grandmother and mother created the perfect storm for a life like mine, And now that I've said that I'm not sure if The First Lie is actually the one my mother told me or the one my great grandmother believed:

If you kiss a man, you will get pregnant.