I Thought It Was Love

Copyright © 2020 by Deliah.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-6641-3120-0

                eBook           978-1-6641-3119-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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Rev. date: 09/16/2020

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CONTENTS

Dedication

Summary The Life Story Of Deliah

Introduction

Part 1: Should I Leave Or Should I Stay?

Part 2: Should I Flee Or Will They Set Me Free?

Part 3: I Know What To Do: Stay True To The One Who Has Brought Me Through…….

Part 4: Back To The Streets! Walking Out On Faith…

Part 5: The New Movement…. Go Get Your Power Back!!!!

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to all who feel like there is no other way in life, but the wrong way. I am writing to encourage all who is struggling with the tactics of the enemy. God is seeing me through every day and if you just get in his presence, he will do the same for you.

To Jerry, Greg, Bobby, Lisa: Thank you all for everything that you have done to make my re-entry into society, a successful one. I know at times things were stressful, but I thank God that you did not give up on me, but saw that God had change my life and it was for the best.

To Rontavious and Roneshia: Thank you both, for understanding why your mother was not there with you. But you never displayed any kind of anger and reluctant towards me, you both only showed me love, and that made my transition and my life much easier, and know that there was only one way and that was the right way. I Love you, and I’m proud of what you both have accomplish in life. Continue to focus and stay strong. After my transition and now it is years later, I have two grandchildren Janiyah and Josiah who are my heart. I just thank God for them; because they give me more reasons to push forward. I love you guys to the moon and back.

In loving memory of my deceased mother, grandmother, mother n law, who played a major role in helping me with or without knowledge to become the woman I am today. Thank you and I love you.

Last but not least: I want to send my love to all the girls throughout the Federal Prison System, who encourage me to write, and who were there for me, when I was going through, God bless you, and keep your head up. I have not forgotten you. Tiffany, Sylvia, Tonya, Trina, Julie, Angelia, I cannot name each one of you, but you know who you are. God bless! This still remains true to me; if it had not been for the ladies in the prison who help me in a time of distress; where would I be.

SUMMARY

THE LIFE STORY OF DELIAH

What a hot summer night? Nothing to do, so me and my girls decided to go party at the club. In 1989 at age 16 I met this young guy age 21, when hanging out in a local club in a small town call city in Georgia. I had heard of this guy called Gucci, but never laid eyes on him, until I had dressed to appear older than I was to enter into this local night club. After entering the night club, I laid eyes on Gucci for the first time, he looked at me. It was then; I knew I had to have him. After I romantically got involved with this guy. I THOUGHT IT WAS LOVE. Until the days passed, and the relationship, became abusive, to the extent, I was hospitalized. Finally, after years of abuse, I did not have enough; it was not until my relationship with Gucci landed me in Federal Prison for 27 years. That is when I decided that is enough for that type of love and I then turned to lesbian relationships. Still thinking it was love. Those relationships also became abusive, physically, emotionally and verbally. It was not until I gave my life to Jesus, that I found real Love.

INTRODUCTION

How It All Began…

There is nothing like living in poverty. in a small city with a population of 11,000 plus. It had one high school, and one middle school and a couple of elementary schools. There were not a lot of opportunities.

My mother who had struggled for many years to move away from the projects had finally arisen. Me and my three brothers and sister lived in the section where mainly working class live. These homes was considered to be one of the above average neighborhoods for black people. It was the area of brick homes and large acres of land.

We all loved our home and were pride to say that we had overcome. However, had we really overcome? I remember raising chickens and hens, for a way of surviving. It was embarrassing moments, when it was days, when there was nothing to eat, and we had to boil, extremely hot water and pour it in a bucket.

In order to go and ring the chicken’s neck, so we may eat. Having chicken along with government cheese. My mother made sure we had something to eat. Being in the city, it was against the law to raise chickens. However, how were they going to deny us our food?

I had witness times when my mother could not afford to pay the water bill and she would sometimes wait until the water people leave and go turn the water back on. Other times, me and my brothers and sister, would have to struggle before the water people come, and find every container and bucket possible to fill it up with water, so we can eat, and wash up. This was what we call bathing.

It was tormenting times of my life. I often felt my mother was angry because she had to subject us with this way of living. I remember my friends laughing at me, about the chickens and water. I use to say if I ever had children, they will never live like this. I was determined to excel and leave this small city in Georgia. Therefore, in my mind I was trying to come up with a master plan. I started shoplifting for clothes, deodorant, jewelry and anything I thought I needed.

I started hanging out late at night in the streets, where from time to time, I would run into one of my siblings. They would try to make me go home, but I would go to drastic measures, resulting in violence of trying to stab them, because they were interfering with my master plan.

On my mission, I finally got pregnant and had my first child that only made matters worse. I had to put my master plan to work. Then one night, I thought I had met the man of my dreams. One who could take me away and help me grow and implement the master plan, I had in store.

To my surprise, he had his own master plan. My child, at that time and myself would never have to suffer, and live in poverty. I didn’t know at that time, I was about to suffer worse things than ringing a chicken’s neck and living out of water in buckets. What would I do to have those moments back? That was love, without compromise.

My reason for revisiting this book, is that so many of our youth don’t understand the concept of hardship and love without compromise. As I later and until date, I didn’t understand how much pressure my lovely, single mother was under…. doing all she knew, but today, we have so many ways of gaining knowledge to live the American dream.

PART I

SHOULD I LEAVE OR SHOULD I STAY?

I grew up in a small town in Georgia. Being raised by my mother, who was a single parent struggling to raise my three brothers, sister, and myself. I wasn’t satisfied, there was something missing. That something I was never sure of I had to have, I THOUGHT IT WAS LOVE. Hanging out in the streets late at night after my mother would come home from an exhausted day at work, and fall asleep. I would sneak out windows, searching for men who could give me that love.

My mother wasn’t aware of my actions at the time, because she was constantly struggling trying to work and make ends meet. It was not until later, that my mother became aware of my behavior. My mother was constantly trying to inspire me with all the knowledge she had, and too me it just wasn’t good enough.

In addition, my mother would tell me she loves me and bought me all the nice and finest things a teenage girl could want, and not to mention, she really couldn’t afford those things, but she was doing her best to make me a better me.

To me, it just was not enough, something was still missing. My behavior became so disruptive by age fourteen, that my mother thought that something was psychologically wrong with me. It was then that she had me committed to a psychiatric ward for evaluation.

I was find to be sane, which was no surprise to me. In the conclusion of the finding, the psychologist recommended to my mother, to allow me to date young people, to help solve my problems. My mother complied, and I met this guy name Black, we not only started dating, but we became sexually involved. April 1987, at age fifteen. I became very sick, nauseated, weight gain with extreme fatigue, not knowing my illness and regretted the thought that I had.

My mother took me to the doctor, it was then, we find out, I was pregnant. With extreme disappointment, my mother began to scream look at what you have done to your life. You are going to have an abortion. I said, no, I will not. She said, You are going to have an abortion. I said, no, I will not. She said, Who is going to keep the baby, while you go to school? I responded, Black family will. I called Black to tell him I was pregnant. He replied, I can’t have kids," and don’t call me anymore. I was so confused and hurt, because I thought I had find love.

I realized that he wasn’t the one. So the search was on again. I met this guy name Thug, and I told him all about my pregnancy and the conversation that took place between myself and Black, every detail. And with Thug charming words, Baby, it’s okay, nobody has to know it is not my baby. We will be together, and my family will help you with the baby while you go to school. I was so happy, he was the one. I couldn’t ask for more from a man.

While visiting my grandmother’s home, I begin to have contractions. They rushed me to the hospital, where I was hospitalized, because I was definitely in labor. Suddenly, born to me was a baby boy. Sitting by my side was Thug and his family just as promised. The nurse came in with the birth certificate, and we all was debating on a name for the baby. We all decided to give him a name that reflects that one of Thug, since he had been there and this was his baby, with Thug signature and mine. We had a baby boy.

Rontavious was the most precious baby one could ask for. I don’t know who call Black. I looked up trying to shake off the anesthesia and Black was standing over me in the hospital bed saying where is my baby. I just began to cry, I responded in deep distress, that I haven’t seen you in eight months, what do you mean? He said where is the birth certificate, so I may sign it? I replied, Black, it’s too late, Thug has already signed the birth certificate. Black, began to question me, why did you do that? All I could say, was, he has been there for me. He left my bedside, to go visit my baby boy in the nursery,