My Biggest FEAR as a Child #NaBloPoMo
This month..the month of November happens to be my favorite month of the year, Mainly because it is my birthday month and Thanksgiving, but it also happens to be NaBloPoMo. No! it is not a chemical compound. NaBloPoMo stands for "National Blog Post Month" Where writers all over are making the commitment to write and post every day for the month.
Every day there has been a prompt to write about, but of course, I have been doing my own thing which is fine.
Today I wanted to share about my fun flirty dress and my super cute DIY polka dot clutch, but you'd have to wait until for that post.
Pretty dress aside I want to follow the prompt for today which is:
What was your biggest fear as a child? Do you still have it today? If it went away, when did your feelings changes?
When I read that, I started to think about things I was scared of as a child... I couldn't remember. I started to ask myself a series of question: What was I scared of as a kid? The dark? The boogeyman? Then I answer myself: Child, please!
I grew up in Haiti so of course I had fears. I had fears for days. My fears had fears.
There was fear of getting shot in your sleep. ( it happened!) Fear of my house getting broken into by drunk militia rebels, where they killed, stole and raped.
Whenever I'd hear these kinds of things happening on the news I would be so terrified it might happen to us.
That's why as soon as I could talk I had Psalms 34:7 and Psalms 3 memorized. You’ve just got to have faith that God is truly your shepherd!
Aside from all the really scary stuff, what I was really afraid of was my parents leaving. In Haiti, it comes to a point in most families where either one parent or both had to leave the country in quest of a better life for their family.
If you had the means and you could it was a no-brainer.
It's was usually a good thing, it meant the family will have some financial backing from the outside. Most of my friend’s family structure was kind of like that.
Some stay with Moms while Dad goes. If both parents leave, some children will go live with Aunts or nannies.
While it was cool getting all the cool stuff from the U.S. or wherever they immigrated to, some of my friends never got to see their parents. Depending on their paper situation it could be 5-10 years, before seeing their family again, by then they would be strangers.
Most kids were fine and accepted it as their normal, but that was terrifying to me!
My Dad was a barber, and my Mom was a teacher. They struggled, especially with their decision to send us to a private Catholic school that they certainly could not afford.
I always knew it was a matter of time before one of them caved under the pressure and found a way to seek immigration, but thank God they stayed.
I'm so grateful for my parent's sacrifice and all they have given up.
When I think back I wonder, "maybe my Dad would have still been alive if he had left?", but I also know I wouldn't be who I am today if he wasn't around.
Do you still have it today? If it went away, when did your feelings changes?
I'd say yes and no, the idea still haunts me, mostly for my girls. I always wonder if they're going to end up jacked up because of the fact that they are growing up without a Father, but then I also know that God didn't bring me this far to leave me.
He knows me, He knows at some point in life I would be going through a divorce and this would happen, I know he has a plan for them and no deadbeat dad can get in the way of who God wants them to be!
Our story is still being written...
So far so good, they are beautiful, smart, happy little girls, and I couldn't be any more grateful.
When I talk about being grateful it's no small thing. I really do have a TON to be grateful for!