Let me start by telling you my background and how I grew up. I was raised by a strong, independent women; I call Mom or as everyone else would call her, Donna. I grew up in a very big and loving family. I have one older sister Briana; growing up we didn 't get along because of our huge age gap; we are 10 years apart. When I was little I never considered myself as a fatherless little girl, I had my Grandfather and a family friend, Marc, who I considered my father figures; and I am so beyond thankful and blessed that I am able to say that. I was a shy, outgoing and beyond clumsy little girl. I was shy in the sense that I was very very quite and kept to myself if no one spoke to me, but at the same time I was very outgoing because I loved to talk to people and make new friends. I was very happy with how my life was up until I was old enough to realize I didn 't have a blood father. This made me very confused and angry and I wanted answers for years and thats what I exactly got.
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It was cool and humid all at the same time in LA, in the early mornings of 6 AM. I was surprisingly awake but I was also extremely nervous. Im walking down to my Dad, who I see off in the distance; The only thing I can hear is the busy chit chat of foreigners and the clicking of all of the suitcases. It reminds me of a clock ticking in my ear; a clock that’s telling me “it’s almost time”. I walk up to my Dad and hug him, I smell his intense cologne off of his shirt; Im looking at him and he’s talking to me but everything is muffled as if someone shoved cotton in my ears. Its about the time my sister is getting off of her plane and going through customs, and the weight of every little noise around me is getting to me, I don 't hear the clicking of the suitcases and the buzz of foreigners now, I hear everything; to the clicking of high heals, the screaming children, and the softest sounds. Now everything is getting louder and more intense, I feel the room
It was cool and humid all at the same time in LA, in the early mornings of 6 AM. I was surprisingly awake but I was also extremely nervous. Im walking down to my Dad, who I see off in the distance; The only thing I can hear is the busy chit chat of foreigners and the clicking of all of the suitcases. It reminds me of a clock ticking in my ear; a clock that’s telling me “it’s almost time”. I walk up to my Dad and hug him, I smell his intense cologne off of his shirt; Im looking at him and he’s talking to me but everything is muffled as if someone shoved cotton in my ears. Its about the time my sister is getting off of her plane and going through customs, and the weight of every little noise around me is getting to me, I don 't hear the clicking of the suitcases and the buzz of foreigners now, I hear everything; to the clicking of high heals, the screaming children, and the softest sounds. Now everything is getting louder and more intense, I feel the room