Lost Identity

My last family, (Rev.) Arthur & Noreen Mundy, always told me that 'family is so important, don't forget it. Family sticks together through thick and thin, they're your true friends.' When your best friend doesn't show up for an event that's important to you, a family member will always be there. This is how I was brought up.

Back in my younger days, I didn't think much of it, but today I'm trying to make up for lost time. I've learned the true meaning of family and I pass it down to my kids.

Because of my life on the street, I lost contact with my family. For the most part, they didn't understand and were ashamed of me. I kept my distance, mainly because I was too was ashamed of the path I chose. After a while, it was extremely hard to leave the life I learned to live, but I did.

I wonder what the home life was like for the girls I worked alongside on the street. Most of them came from a home where family just wasn't important. I consider myself fortunate to have family that was at least a little concerned about me when I was lost in the insanity of the street.

I wasn't sexually abused or beaten in my home; my dad was a minister and my mom was right by his side. Sure, there were squabbles between siblings growing up, but we always forgave each other or let it ride. I learned some of my street sisters had hatred for their family members. I came from a 'normal' family; such things wouldn't cross my mind.

Everyone I hung around with wanted to forget some terrible incident in their lives, and I just wanted to know who I was.