Help Domestic Abuse Survivor Publish Her Book at Gofundme


Sharine Jones, Upcoming Author

I am helping my Big Sister Sharine Jones publish her first autobiography book on her first hand experience of Domestic Abuse and Violence: “Reflections of A Woman’s Indescretions.” Sharine prays that her book will not only empower women but save lives.

Sharine is a remarkable woman, who overcame death and tribulations to get to where she is today. She has been waiting for over five years to get her book publish, and what we need now are the funds to make her dream reality.

The funds will pay for editing, copyright, and additional expenses.

For anyone who donates $100 or more will get a free copy of her book!

To read the first chapter of her book, click here

To make a donation, click on the badge above.

Special shout-outs to those who made contributions thus far:
–Alice Munoz, $100.00
–Rose & Solomon Acosta $40.00
–Randy Weaver $25.00
–Traci Schiavo $50.00
–Joshua & “A” Acosta $20.00
–Tracy Shah $20.00
–Jelani Weaver $20.00
–Liv Smith $50.00
–Tiffany Munoz $20.00

Weekly Spiritual Digest: God Hears And Answers Prayers


Sharine Jones, Upcoming Author

“Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and He saved them out of their distresses. He brought them out of darkness and the shadow of death, and broke their chains in pieces.” (Psalm 107:13-14)

I am so blessed to announce that I have finally co-edited of what will soon be the most captivating Domestic Violence story of a woman’s tribulations: “A Woman’s Indiscretions” by Sharine Jones.

Thank you God for protecting her and bringing her into my life to show me my purpose for living and helping people like her–to share their stories of #tribulations and #victory.

If you haven’t read her story go to Saturday Book Read and find it so you can be inspired. Her book will be on the shelves soon.

Remember to pray because God always answers your prayers.

“Thank you all for following my webpage and keeping my purpose alive.”

–Prince

Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones: The End of Chapter of 4, The End of Shattered Fairy Tales


 “Reflections of A Woman’s Indiscretions“

This book is dedicated to my mother Elena, grandmothers Josephine & Evril, & to all the Ladies in my life – Strong women I have seen Prevail no matter the circumstances or challenges.

Previously….

Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine JonesHis voice was deep, loud, and distinct. I heard him ask Faith saying, “Where Sharine at?!”

Lying her ass off, she answered, “I don’t know, but she’s not here.”

Apparently he knew better because he must have walked through the parking lot and saw my car there.

“Don’t lie, Faith! I just want to talk to her,” I heard him say.

Before Faith could answer him, I heard another voice: a man. It was another neighbor and Faith’s long time family friend, Desmond. Evidently, Desmond heard what was going on; he wanted to make sure that everything was good with Faith, considering he didn’t know Slimm.

I heard Desmond ask, “What’s the problem?”

Slimm responded aggressively, “There is no problem!”

“There must be a problem,” Desmond answered with confidence.

I could hear the tension and hostility that were building inside the two men’s voices; I peeked out the window to only see Faith standing between the two of them. Then the inevitable happened, Slimm pulled his gun on Desmond!

~*~

Finding her words, Faith nervously replies: “Slimm, come on! What are you doing?! Put that shit away!”

Desmond was staggered. “It’s not that serious; and I don’t want any problems. I’m just trying to protect where I lay my head,” he said

Faith then hastily used her body as a shield to protect Desmond by standing in front him; she knew Slimm wouldn’t harm her. Desmond then turned around and walked slowly up the stairs– back into his apartment with Faith following behind him. I was relieved to know that Desmond and Faith made it to their rooms safely with no bullet holes to their bodies–more so, I was pleased to see Slimm gone. But, in less than five minutes, Faith’s phone rang and it was him again–this time venting out (on speaker phone) to Faith about what transpired between him and Desmond.

Instead of hearing him apologize for his disrespectful behavior, I heard him say that he was two blocks away (at 49th Street School) waiting for Desmond to meet him there.

Faith dismissed his words saying, “Slimm! No one wants any issues! Just go on home!

He rebuked with a threat,

“That nigga don’t know me! I should come back and blow his head off!”

Faith allowed him to vent his anger–in hopes of him calming down. Finally his rant ended and the conversation was over.

I sat there helplessly for a while thinking on how I got myself into this ordeal. I knew then it would be a difficult task to remove this man from my life, especially since I was going to live with him; I felt stuck between a fence and a brick wall. I knew what needed to be done, but I wasn’t yet brave or ready. To top it off, I put my friend in danger. Slimm was not only intimidating me, but my loved ones too. Faith confided with me later that she shared “the gun incident” with her boyfriend—and he advised that I should stay away from Slimm. He said that it would only be a matter of time before he pointed his gun at me.

The next morning, when I was leaving for work, Blu’s mother was waiting for me; she wanted to tell me that I had to move. She went on to say that she will not allow of what happened the night before to occur again. Although my in-laws were nowhere to be seen that night, they saw and heard everything. I now had a couple of days to pack my things and be gone. But, I mean, could I blame her? Hell no! Slimm put innocent people in danger–and for no reason at all! I wasn’t going to argue with her about it. The apartment building was her property and what he did was unacceptable. I told her that I understood and went off to work.

I was so angry! I couldn’t hold back my tears. He was making everything in my life harder than it needed to be. And what was he doing for me? Besides stressing me out! Slowly, I was getting tired of him and his ignorant behavior. On my way to work, I called him to ask about the status of my apartment. Also, I wanted him to be aware that I had a couple of days to move, thanks to his reckless behavior.

When he responded, his voice was so calm and warm—the complete opposite from the night before.

“I’ll find out for you and I’ll let you know,” he said.

He did not respond to what I told him in regards to his reckless behavior. Nor did he take responsibility for the incident. Once again, he swept it under the rug and I ultimately left it there.

Reflecting back, I can’t believe how I thought my life with him would be a fairy tale. It might have started out that way, but it was turning into a horror story. There was nothing enchanting or magical about our relationship. I was unhappily aware that my Prince Charming was a fraud; I just didn’t want to accept it.

THIS IS THE END OF SATURDAY BOOK READ W/ SHARINE JONES. THANK YOU ALL FOR READING AND SHARING HER STORIES WITH FRIENDS AND FAMILY.

EVEN THOUGH SHARINE AND PRINCE ARE SADDENED BY THIS DECISION, THEY ARE OPTIMISTIC OF THE INTENSIVE WORK THAT THEY WILL BE INPUTTING IN TO MAKE  “REFLECTIONS OF A WOMAN’S INDISCRETIONS”  A PRINTED NOVEL! IN THE MEANTIME PLEASE REVISIT SHARINE’S PREVIOUS STORIES AND SHARE THEM WITH FRIENDS FAMILY.

WE ARE PLANNING TO PUBLISH THIS BOOK BEFORE THE END OF 2014!
ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED TO SHARINE JONES

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Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones: Shattered Fairy Tales Part 4


“Reflections of A Woman’s Indiscretions“

This book is dedicated to my mother Elena, grandmothers Josephine & Evril, & to all the Ladies in my life – Strong women I have seen Prevail no matter the circumstances or challenges.

Previously….

Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones

After I got my butt whooped, I was more humiliated than ever. I sat in my car, welted and bruised up, asking myself why I would let him continue to hurt me. I was confused–emotionally and mentally. I knew I didn’t deserve his abuses, so “why did I take it?!” The bullshit in a dysfunctional relationship like this one can be detrimental to a woman’s health and well-being. Again, “Love” has the power to flourish with beauty or burn one’s house to the ground.

No, I didn’t deserve the abuse; I was a good girlfriend. My problem was belittling myself for allowing him to continue to shame and disrespect me. It was crazy too! One minute I’d be fierce thinking I can do bad all by myself; I don’t need this or him! Then the next minute I will be feeble and weak. But my thoughts of strength that day (when he spanked me), were like many days: short-lived. Because the next thing I knew, I totally agreed to meet him later at his aunt’s house, where he will be temporarily staying; because he was at odds with his grandmother.

As soon as he called, I went running. I knew it was wrong, but I went anyway. And when he saw me that night, he apologized. He babied me, rubbed my feet, and loved me the way he use to; I forgave him for everything. It was as if I was under his spell. I was in a trance and I couldn’t break it.

~*~

Summer was in full effect; the kids were out of school and now in day camp.Not only was I busy with my son Jordan’s basketball and baseball season, but I was still looking for an apartment. On one Saturday afternoon, when my kids and I were leaving Jordan’s baseball game, Slimm chirped me:  “Baby, I found you a spot.

His family owned a building where the apartment was located; he was helping to clean the vacant apartment and asked if it was available. Surprisingly, it was! And it could be ready in the next two weeks! I didn’t believe him at first, so I had to see it for myself. Nothing came easy for me, so it was a shock for me when he did chirp with the good news. Once I saw the apartment I was more than ready to move in. My current living arrangements were finally coming to an end. I appreciated the hospitality that Faith and her mother provided, but I missed having my own home which I could share it with my kids. It had only been six months, but it felt like years had flown by.

The apartment was charming; it had one bedroom, one bath, and a loft area, which I was going to hook up for the kids [because I’m creative like that!]. However, the kitchen was my favorite room. It was perfect! It had a panel of windows that showed the beauty of Los Angeles. Another plus was that Blu’s apartment was down the hill from my kids’ school which was about five minutes away – it was ideal! What wasn’t ideal was that I was moving into the housing property of Slimm’s people. And I also made a conscious decision to move-in with me and my kids.

Stupid, I know! Reflecting back, I think I must’ve been out of my mind because this was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. The reality was we were both in similar situations; he was sleeping on his aunt’s sofa and I needed an apartment. The agreement was we would split the rent and the cost of utilities. To this day, I don’t know why I didn’t think critically about this situation. Deep in my heart I knew it was the wrong thing to do for obvious reasons: first was the fact that I was still legally married to another man; second, my kids weren’t exactly receptive to Slimm although they were polite and respectful; and third, our relationship was a wreck. Why I thought it would be different, once we did move-in together, was beyond my comprehension. Secretly within my own heart, I thought he would change; and I also hoped for the best. I believed we could make it if we tried. I also thought he would appreciate the family life and alter his behavior for the better. I’m mad at myself for being so foolish and selfish–allowing him to live under the same roof with my kids after we spent six months apart in separate homes. I was a fool for thinking with my own heart instead of my head. In this case I deserved an ass whoopin’.

The apartment wouldn’t be ready for us to move-in for another two weeks, due to repairs and upgrades. Within that timeframe I informed everybody, who was important in my life, about my plans to move in with Slimm. And I was not surprised by the overwhelming number of negative responses from my action.

Blu was against the idea, but what could he do? I was not a good listener; I was stubborn and I always knew what was best for me. No wonder my life was always so challenging. My sister and girlfriends loved that I found an apartment, but they weren’t feeling my living arrangements–specifically Slimm as my roommate. They knew the business –Slimm and I were always arguing and fighting – but they also knew that I was going to do what I wanted despite their objections. So they didn’t bother to try to talk me out of it. My cousin Shannon was the one who was like, “You crazy, cuz!” Her words, from that day forward, stuck with me. But I disregarded it–pretending not to care.

One week prior to my move, Slimm did some ignorant shit: “He was on one” (angry) because I was late meeting him at someplace. For one I was busy helping my kids with their homework, which I was at the library for two hours, and I was tired from being at work all day. So I was not in the mood for his tantrum. After my kids were taken care of, I then headed straight to Faith’s house to call it a night. But, all the while, he was blowing up my phone–which I kept ignoring of course.

I finally made it to the Faith’s place, which I pulled my car into the back parking lot and walked inside. Tamela, Faith’s mom, was home and Faith was upstairs at her neighbor’s apartment. So I went upstairs to join her; so I could fill her in about the latest drama in my life.

Immediately I told Faith, “If Slimm calls, tell him I’m not here!

She understood my drama, and agreed to saying, “Girl, don’t worry. I’ll let him know.

Surprisingly, Slimm didn’t call me at all. But what surprised me even more was his unexpected visit to Blu’s family’s housing property–like he just popped up out of nowhere. I was frightened by his bold choice–“Why would he come here?!” He’s never been as audacious to step foot on the Eastside of LA, especially where Blu’s family lived. To make matters worse he had balls to approach Faith’s front door–banging on it like he was the police. Let me just say that if Tamela had to answer her door, she would’ve roasted his ass–and that’s just putting it mildly. Knowing what Faith’s mother was capable of, she quickly ran down the stairs in an attempt to make him leave. While Faith was confronting the Big Bad Wolf downstairs, I hid inside a bedroom. Even though I was upstairs, I could still hear their conversation–especially Slimm’s mouth.

His voice was deep, loud, and distinct. I heard him ask Faith saying, “Where Sharine at?!

Lying her ass off, she answered, “I don’t know, but she’s not here.

Apparently he knew better because he must have walked through the parking lot and saw my car there.

Don’t lie, Faith! I just want to talk to her,” I heard him say.

Before Faith could answer him, I heard another voice: a man. It was another neighbor and Faith’s long time family friend, Desmond. Evidently, Desmond heard what was going on; he wanted to make sure that everything was good with Faith, considering he didn’t know Slimm.

I heard Desmond ask, “What’s the problem?

Slimm responded aggressively, “There is no problem!

There must be a problem,” Desmond answered with confidence.

I could hear the tension and hostility that were building inside the two men’s voices; I peeked out the window to only see Faith standing between the two of them. Then the inevitable happened, Slimm pulled his gun on Desmond!

STAY TUNED NEXT WEEK TO READ THE NEXT THRILLING CHAPTER OF SHARINE’S UPCOMING AUTOBIOGRAPHY, “REFLECTIONS OF A WOMAN’S INDISCRETIONS”

ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED TO SHARINE JONES. 

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Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones: Shattered Fairy Tales Part 3


Reflections of A Woman’s Indiscretions

This book is dedicated to my mother Elena, grandmothers Josephine & Evril, & to all the Ladies in my life – Strong women I have seen Prevail no matter the circumstances or challenges.

Previously…

Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine JonesWithout any forethought or hesitation, I took my heel off and hurled it at him. He grabbed me and wrestled me onto the bed–putting his hand over my mouth to muffle my screams. I kicked him and he threw me off of the bed and onto the floor. That’s when I knew I had enough.I didn’t come all the way to Las Vegas to fight, or worse, go to jail. I separated myself away from him, and went into the bathroom to shower. I returned to find him passed out on the sofa.

The sun rose a few hours later and it was as if nothing ever happened. He woke up in a loving mood asking what I wanted to do for the day. I didn’t say a word about the night before; I let it go–I didn’t want another unnecessary argument. That last day was drama-free; we enjoyed a gondola ride at the Venetian Hotel. The day continued with more pictures, more cocktails, and more denial of our dysfunctional relationship.

~*~

The following Sunday was one of the most memorable and worst experiences I had with Slimm. This episode hurt a bit more than the ones prior because I became all to aware of my desperation for his love, which disturbed me. I was falling deeper into the pit. But it didn’t stop me from wanting to be with him.

Remember, prior to the demand of digital and cell phone cameras, when film had to be developed the old fashioned way? Well this brings me to the day I picked up my developed pictures from our trip to Las Vegas. I couldn’t wait to share those photos with Slimm! It was the following Sunday after our getaway and everything up until this point was perfect until, that is, I called him.

He was mean and short-tempered, acting like he had no time to spare for me.

       “Yeah, what’s up?” He answered sounding in a preoccupied tone.

       “Hey baby, I want to show you the pictures from Vegas! Where you at?” I replied

        “I’m busy right now. I’ll holla at you later.”

I didn’t say a word or push the issue because clearly it wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I remained silent as I sat in my car thinking how stupid I was. I knew that I didn’t have to put up with his mood swings and physical mistreatment, but I wasn’t strong enough or ready to fallback. Instead I’d fall deeper for him–I was a sucker for love.

After blowing me off, he chirped (called me) a little while later agreeing that he would meet me on Sanchez Drive which is up in the Hills. I knew, based on our conversation, that he was moody and irritable–but I just didn’t know why.

It couldn’t have been me since I haven’t seen him all day! Why would he even agree to meet me if he didn’t really want to see me? These were few of the thoughts that ran through my mind, including why was I subjecting myself to such bullshit? Even after I realized that he was in a funk, which he didn’t want me around, I still forced myself to be there and begged him to talk to me. I should’ve known when to leave certain situations alone–forcing myself on him would only worsen my circumstances.

Looking back I recognized how desperate I was to keep him around. Slimm would be a jerk for no reason at all, and I would beg him to tell me what I did to deserve his wrath. He provided no answers, but only threats of departure. And so, I foolishly and frequently begged him to stay in my life. At the time, I didn’t consider my value. It’s a sad thing when a woman doesn’t recognize her self-worth. Our relationship was out of control, but I was extremely needy and scared of being alone; he knew it and played on it. No wonder he felt that he could do as he please–-he knew I wasn’t going anywhere. It’s crazy how a girl’s confidence and self-esteem can shatter, based on another person’s love and approval. I was not a naïve teenager in love; I was a grown woman who allowed this man to do whatever he wanted with me– whether it be glorious or tragic.

He sat there silently glancing from one picture to the next. It was obvious that there was a lack of emotion. He didn’t say anything; it was weird. He was straight faced the entire time with a hint of evil in his eyes. Then his phone rang. He was secretive, sort of talking in a code that I was oblivious to; he was being so private that my curiosity peaked. I was itching to know who was on the other end of the phone.

With an attitude I said, “Who was that?

That’s all it took for his anger to go from 1 to 10 in two seconds flat. In so many words, he basically told me it was his business–and none of mine. The nerve of him! He didn’t even want my children’s father calling me, but he could talk to whomever, whenever, and do whatever pleases him. It was annoying and more frustrating for me. But again, I didn’t want to lose him, and so I put up with all of the extras.

My question to him created a scene that I will never forget as long as I live. He became so angry that I don’t even remember the words that were coming from his mouth. But what I do remember was the foul language and spit that was flying everywhere. That was the sign for me to bust a move–and I didn’t hesitate. With the quickness, I opened the passenger door and made a dash for my car which was parked across the street. I dashed fast–so fast that my shoe came off. But when I turned back to retrieve it, I was a second too late–he beat me to it.

He grabbed me, picked up my shoe and instantaneously began spanking me with it. I screamed, begging him to stop, but he wouldn’t listen; I was reduced to a child. I felt each and every slap and smack on my ass, thighs, and legs. I felt like a little girl receiving a beating from her father–but even little girls don’t get their little behinds beat like that.

It was senseless drama in broad daylight–in the middle of the street no less! I tried to pull away from his grip, but that only made his grip tighter and my beating longer–but I continued to fight. As I fought to escape his clutches, a family in a Lexus truck approached us and stopped his car.

The driver, who was a middle-aged man, lowered his window and told Slimm: “Aye man; back off! That’s a little lady you got there.

        “You better get the fuck outta here before I fuck you up!” Slimm responded.

Without any hesitation, the driver drove off–leaving me there to feel the wrath of Slimm.
Slimm was 6’6 and he carried himself like a thug; he was always strapped (armed). He knew how to intimidate people which was a fact. But “on low key”, I was attracted to it initially. A feared man was a turn on, but I didn’t expect myself to be feared by him too. However, this wasn’t the first time that I saw him use intimidation to scare people away.

On one particular night, Slimm and I were driving home from LAX when a SUV pulled up on the side of us. Everything was calm.  The streets were ghost (empty) and I didn’t know what sparked the confrontation between Slimm and the driver in the SUV–but they exchanged words; talking shit to each other. But their heated exchange of words wasn’t enough for Slimm and so he took it to a step further: he pulled out his gun, holding and extending it with his right hand, and pointed it at the guy’s face! That dude did not pause to bust a right turn onto Century Blvd, when he saw the barrel of Slimm’s gun. I remembered sitting there, stuck on stupid, asking myself as to what just happened. I thought to myself: “What if that dude pulled out his gun and used it on us?” That’s when I became conscious of his enjoyment of instilling fear in people; there was definitely a pattern to Slimm’s behavior. In that moment I just sat in the passenger seat thanking God that it hadn’t turned that serious.

After I got my butt whooped, I was more humiliated than ever. I sat in my car, welted and bruised up, asking myself why I would let him continue to hurt me. I was confused–emotionally and mentally. I knew I didn’t deserve his abuses, so “why did I take it?!” The bullshit in a dysfunctional relationship like this one can be detrimental to a woman’s health and well-being. Again, “Love” has the power to flourish with beauty or burn one’s house to the ground.

No, I didn’t deserve the abuse; I was a good girlfriend. My problem was belittling myself for allowing him to continue to shame and disrespect me. It was crazy too! One minute I’d be fierce thinking I can do bad all by myself; I don’t need this or him! Then the next minute I will be feeble and weak. But my thoughts of strength that day (when he spanked me), were like many days: short-lived. Because the next thing I knew, I totally agreed to meet him later at his aunt’s house, where he will be temporarily staying; because he was at odds with his grandmother.

As soon as he called, I went running. I knew it was wrong, but I went anyway. And when he saw me that night, he apologized. He babied me, rubbed my feet, and loved me the way he use to; I forgave him for everything. It was as if I was under his spell. I was in a trance and I couldn’t break it.

STAY TUNED NEXT WEEK TO READ THE NEXT STORY OF SHARINE’S UPCOMING AUTOBIOGRAPHY “REFLECTIONS OF A WOMAN’S INDISCRETIONS”

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO SHARINE JONES

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Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones: Chapter 4 Shattered Fairy Tales


Reflections of A Woman’s Indiscretions

This book is dedicated to my mother Elena, grandmothers Josephine & Evril, & to all the Ladies in my life – Strong women I have seen Prevail no matter the circumstances or challenges.

Previously….

1932484_10202699833952478_1619402301_nLike a good girlfriend, I was there for him undeniably. And later that morning, I went to visit him–driving my car with a black plastic bag covering my broken window. I was so embarrassed in more ways than one. It was Sunday and most of the window repair shops were closed, so there was nothing I could do. However, by Monday afternoon–when his grandmother bailed him out from jail–he took care of my window, which was the least he could do for me.

Slimm’s grandmother always bailed him out. No matter how many problems that Slimm got himself into, she was always there to pick up the pieces. That’s the reason why he never held himself accountable for anything; why he refused to take responsibility; and why he always found a way to justify his wrongdoings. Slimm’s entire life was defined by escaping consequences and avoiding punishment. It was plain to see why he evaded all consequences and punishments in the real world too.

Shattered Fairy Tales

Chapter 4

Before my marriage with Blu and my love affair with Slimm, I believed that fairy tales were joyful, extravagant, beautiful, and usually ended with a “happily ever after” ending.  As a child my perception of love was derived from stories such as Cinderella–where the heroine would be rescued from her unhappy life by a charming man who loves her deeply. Even as a grown woman, I held on to the thought that one day I’d find my true love and live “happily ever after.” It’s corny, I know. And maybe that’s why I am a little silly, naive, or just a romantic at heart. Whichever it may be, I am happy. I am happy that my heart has not turned cold, despite everything that has happened to me.

I was married with children by the time I was twenty, and by twenty-five I just wanted it to be over. My marriage with Blu was a disaster; we lacked communication, respect, and trust. He gave me no attention. He became controlling and possessive, and called me foul names on a regular basis: “bitch,” “hoe,” “slut” [I’m sure you get the point!]. Furthermore, we hardly spent time together as a couple or a family. I felt unloved by my husband and I began to crave the love that I wasn’t getting at home. I wanted a man to illustrate his love for me, and so I started a long journey of infidelities.

Married women are emotionally safe for the “other man”– at least that’s what I thought. I think men typically like that because there’s no commitment or exclusivity required–and the feelings are unattached. That’s how I would think about it now–but back then, I didn’t think like that way at all. Back then all I knew was that I wanted someone to fill my void. I wanted what I wasn’t getting from my husband – affection and love – and so I settled for more than I should have; because I was a married woman.

Even though I kept it “100,” with the men that I did spend my time with, it only played with my emotions – straight up and down. These guys didn’t have to commit to me. They’d sleep with me, whenever they wanted, and were still able to cling to their freedom – sleeping or dating with whomever they wanted. I gave my goods away (mistakenly associating sex with love) but never receiving them. Instead, all I got were more problems. Looking back, I remembered that I always needed a man to validate me; I needed a man to make me feel important, and to give me meaning.

I was unhappy in my life. I wanted Prince Charming to save me, and provide me with endless happiness. My imagination was something else! I was fooling myself into believing that I would find true love, despite being married. Things in life have to be done decently and in the right order (prioritize), if you want to receive blessings and live a good life. Unfortunately, my life was out of order. Nothing good came out of my affairs. But when I met Slimm, I thought I had cheated the priorities in life; I was finally going to be happy.

I remember one of our first times “kickin’ it,” he took me to a beautiful home in the Hills. The view of Los Angeles was “blingin’” (bright) from the city lights and it was a sensational sight. Music played lightly in the background, and he surprised me with a hot tub, which was bubbling with steam rising from it–he also had fresh strawberries and chilled champagne waiting for me. I was more than amazed that this street dude could be so romantic.

Baby, go inside and put on your bikini,” he said in a sweet tone.

He didn’t have to ask me twice; I quickly followed his instruction.

I returned wearing a hot pink bikini; my breasts were looking plump and tantalizing. And even though I was lacking booty, it was still enough for him grab onto. I was hoping he liked what I had on, because I wanted his hands all over me.

I’m totally feeling him,” I thought to myself, when I stepped into the hot tub–the steaming water tingled my body. A few minutes has passed by and Slimm joined me with two glasses of champagne and a bowl of strawberries. After he gently hand fed me with strawberries, one by one, while sipping on our bubbly, we played with each other in the private spa until we became too hot–and soon we finished what we started upstairs. I went to bed that night feeling that I was in a fairytale – I finally found the man I deserved.

Stay Tuned Next Week To Read The Next Page of Sharine’s Upcoming Autobiography, “Reflections of a Woman’s Indiscretions.”

All Rights Are Reserved To Sharine Jones

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Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones: Ch. 3 Confused and Delusional Part 3


Reflections of A Woman’s Indiscretions

This book is dedicated to my mother Elena, grandmothers Josephine & Evril, & to all the Ladies in my life – Strong women I have seen Prevail no matter the circumstances or challenges.

Previously…

February 2005

20131102-145624.jpg        I opened the long rectangular box and found a gold tennis bracelet lined with small diamonds. I was absolutely in awe that I quickly forgot all the ugly things he ever did to me up to this point. Perhaps, that was his plan. He was charming and intelligent, after all. Either way, that night was hands down one of the best I have ever shared with Slimm. There was no arguing or fighting; we were at peace. 
      But the crazy thing was, even though Slimm gave me a night of bliss, I could not stop thinking of Blu. I did not know if it was a feeling of guilt or if I was missing him–or maybe it was the fact that our wedding anniversary was coming within the week–but bottom line I was confused and I didn’t know what to make of my feelings; especially, since Blu had moved on as well – he had a new girlfriend.
~*~

March 2005

Today was my cousin Christine’s 21st birthday. Slimm, myself, my friend Ori, my sister Ashley, Jimmy (Slimm’s homeboy) and his wife Laura, all decided to celebrate her birthday at Jillian’s–a bowling alley and bar/lounge in Hollywood. And when we arrived, all fun broke loose.

Rapper 50 Cent’s song, “Just a Lil Bit” was bumping through the loud speakers and Ori and I were just dancing, while Slimm and his boy were conversing; Ashley, Christine, and Laura were at the bar. All of us were just having a good time:  the drinks kept coming; we owned a couple of shots; we bowled; and we talked shit. It was a fun night. After a couple hours, we were lit and decided to call it a night–but without grabbing some food first.

We exited the back door because upstairs was too loud and obnoxious. And once we did, I came across a long series of stairs that was directed towards the floor. While I was proceeding down the stairs, I suddenly tripped and lost my balance. But just when I was about to bite it on the stairs, Slimm reached out and grabbed me by his strong arm. I then started to crack up jokingly; I was faded, tipsy, and laughing. All of us were happy drunks , but that would soon change.

Once we made it to the cars, Slimm and Ashley took the steering wheels for the night: Laura, Jimmy, and I rolled with Slimm, while Christine and Ori rode with Ashley. Once my group got into our car, we waited for Ashley because she needed to follow us to the restaurant; we were waiting at southbound of Caheunga Blvd. Once we saw her car move toward us (with her headlights off), without a moment’s notice, the police swooped up right behind her their flashing lights–they pulled her over for making a left onto a residential street.

“Ah shit! They’re pullin’ her over cause her lights was off,” Slimm said as he got out of the car to see what was going on.

We followed Slimm around the corner where my sister was detained. She was out of the car along with Christine and Ori who were standing on the sidewalk with worried expressions on their faces. “If only she remembered to put her lights on, were my thoughts–especially after she failed the field sobriety test. Reflecting back, maybe this whole ordeal was to prevent something bad from happening.But when the officer put his handcuffs on my sister Ashley, I then became belligerent.

I turned to Slimm and said, “Please talk to them! Get my sister out of this!

Clearly I was intoxicated–“What could Slimm do to help Ashley?” All I knew was that he had a good mouth piece, and he could always get out of complicated situations. So I thought (in my drunken state) he could get my sister released. But then the officer put my sister in the back seat of the police car.

Crying, I screamed at Slimm: “You’re no help!”

I knew that he wouldn’t hit me with the law standing right there in his face, but the look in his eyes was so obvious, even to his boy Jimmy. Jimmy quickly intervened and said, “Man, she’s drunk, just let her talk.”

Slimm turned and walked away from me; he went to the police officer to talk about my sister’s car. In the end, the police decided not to impound Ashley’s car, but they still took Ashley into custody. We waited for her boyfriend to pick up her car, and at that point Christine left with him and Ori left with us.

The drive home was silent. No one said a word and I was knocked out instantly. I woke up at Del Taco’s drive-thru just as our order was ready. Slimm handed me the bag of food, but I was still drunk and pissed off at him. So I belligerently took the food out of the bag, and threw it in his face. Ori, who was sitting in the back seat, watched silently with unbelief. Slimm didn’t make a move and he continued to drive.

*For the record, that really isn’t my style. I consider myself a sweetheart; and someone who loves hard. But with experience I’ve learned when someone hurts my heart regularly, and makes it hard, I can be a mean bitch. For the first time I realized that I was adopting Slimm’s behavior. Back then I didn’t know it, but when people or relationships start to bring you out of character in a negative way, it’s probably a sign to let go. Love is supposed to bring out good qualities, not ugly ones. When you start misbehaving like the person you are with then it’s all bad. No one wins…it’s a lose-lose situation.

He pulled up on Don Lorenzo Drive where my car was parked. Ori jumped out of the rental truck and thanked him for the ride.

Me, I didn’t say a word. I jumped down from the truck and proceeded to walk to my car. Then out out of nowhere, I felt a swift kick of a size 12 foot shoe to my ass and I immediately fell to the ground on my behind; I broke my heel from my boot in the process. I was speechless. I had no idea that Slimm was right behind me when he did this to me. Slimm then rushed back to his truck, got in, and sped away.

Ori ran over saying,  “Oh my god. Sharine, are you okay?” with concern in her voice.

I’m alright,” I said, as I was fighting back my tears. I was angry–more than anything I was mortified. He knew how to humiliate me, that was certain.

Alcohol has the power to make a person bold and stupid – that’s what I know. I got up off of my ass and I limped to my car. With Ori as my passenger, I sped right behind him–flying down La Brea. I didn’t know what I was thinking or trying to prove but I was angry, embarrassed, and humiliated. But seriously, “What was I going to do, if I caught up with him?”

It was a blessing in disguise when I lost control of my car and ran into the curb just outside of Popeye’s Chicken. Lucky for me and Ori, it wasn’t through Popeye’s! Looking back at it now, I can shake my head and laugh. But right then and there it was far from amusing because I broke the right side suspension of my car. If I had lost control of my car, then I probably would have made a bad situation into a much worse situation.

As a result from this event, I lost my car for two weeks because of repairs. So I had no choice but to take public transportation to work, and depend on Blu to pick me up where I was slacking with the kids. I didn’t see or speak to Slimm for over a week and again I thought about our “good times,” which ultimately lead me to call him.

Our separation was short lived and another episode would be in the works sooner or later.

STAY TUNED NEXT WEEK TO READ ANOTHER THRILLING CHAPTER OF SHARINE’S NEW BOOK

ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED TO SHARINE JONES

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Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones: Ch. 3 Confused & Delusional Contin.


Reflections of A Woman’s Indiscretions

This book is dedicated to my mother Elena, grandmothers Josephine & Evril, & to all the Ladies in my life – Strong women I have seen Prevail no matter the circumstances or challenges.

Previously……
 20131102-145624.jpg
I don’t know? I wanted to be with Slimm, and trust me when I say that I wasn’t trying to keep Blu in my back pocket for a rainy day. But I knew something was holding me back from moving forward with a divorce. I knew Slimm wasn’t the same person I fell in love with, and yet I still loved him. How I perceived it was Slimm flipped the script on me as soon as I separated from Blu. Therefore, I could only imagine what he would be like once I divorce Blu. That’s how I was thinking back then. I was just a confused mess. All I knew for certain was that it wasn’t time to file for a divorce.
~*~
February 2005
      The night before Valentine’s Day was perfect. I picked up some chocolates, candy, and special treats to make Valentine’s Day baggies for my kids’ classmates. I make these special baggies for every Valentine’s Day, which my kids celebrated at school. I enjoyed making them, and they enjoyed sharing them with their classmates. For the first time, these Valentine’s Day treats were made in a hotel room that Slimm surprised me with. When I was done with the baggies, Slimm told me to close my eyes because he had a surprise for me.
      With his hands covering my eyes, he guided me gently to the bathroom. When he drew his hands away, I was speechless. The bathroom was glowing with soft lit candles, the floors and counters were covered with rose petals, and the bathtub was filled with hot water and luxurious bubbles to the brim. It was truly an amazing sight.
      He helped me out of my clothes and I stood there in the nude while he watched me with a smile on his face. He then stepped close to me; he kissed me; and he embraced me. He took my hand [like a member of royalty] and escorted me into the bathtub. He poured me a glass of champagne and I threw my head back feeling completely pampered–I felt utterly relaxed in that heated bathtub. No man has ever done anything like this for me before. The time and thought that he put into this was incredible. I honestly didn’t expect him to surprise me this way. [Of course, I didn’t know what to expect considering our Christmas Eve debacle.]
      I believe Slimm’s acts of love and affection played an immense part on why I loved him–and why I stayed with him. When it was good, it was great. But at the same time, I was compromising myself – that’s how bad I wanted to be loved.
      When I was done, he helped me out of the bathtub, wrapped a towel around my body and said, “Baby get dressed; I’ll be waiting for you.”  He then walked out of the bathroom.
      When he left I then lathered my whole body with body oil, so I can be super smooth and soft for him. I then sprayed myself with the best fragrance, and put on my sexy nightgown, so I can be ready to tempt him. When I walked out of the door, I saw rose petals making a path for me to the bed; and there I saw him with a Blunt and two glasses of champagne. As we sipped on that chilled bubbly, he then gave me my Valentine’s Day gift. I opened the gift-wrapped box, like a kid on Christmas Day, and inside was a gold anklet–delicate and classy, just the way I like my jewelry. I loved it.
       “Awww baby. I love it! Thank you!” I said, as I reached over to kiss his lips.
      Hitting the Blunt and exhaling he said, “This is for you too baby.” Handing me gift number two!
      “Are you serious? You got me two gifts?”  I said, giggling.
      “Yeah baby. I didn’t know which one you’d like and I couldn’t choose between em.’ The sales lady told me to get both – you deserve it.”
      I opened the long rectangular box and found a gold tennis bracelet lined with small diamonds. I was absolutely in awe, that I quickly forgot all the ugly things he ever did up to this point. Perhaps, that was his plan. He was charming and intelligent, after all. Either way, that night was hands down one of the best I have ever shared with Slimm. There was no arguing or fighting; we were at peace.
      But the crazy thing was, even though Slimm gave me a night of bliss, I could not stop thinking of Blu. I did not know if it was a feeling of guilt or if I was missing him–or maybe it was the fact that our wedding anniversary was coming within the week–but bottom line I was confused and I didn’t know what to make of my feelings; especially, since Blu had moved on as well – he had a new girlfriend.
      Stay Tuned Next Week for the End of Chapter of 3
      ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO SHARINE JONES
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Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones: The Beginning of Chapter 3–Confused and Delusional


Reflections of A Woman’s Indiscretions

This book is dedicated to my mother Elena, grandmothers Josephine & Evril, & to all the Ladies in my life – Strong women I have seen Prevail no matter the circumstances or challenges.

Previously….

20131102-145624.jpgWhat seemed like hours, being locked away in a trunk, were only minutes; he released me right after my freakishly deafening cries [which I assumed was the reason he let me out]. Once I got out he said this to me,

“I’m not fucking with you.”

This was his way of stabbing me without actually doing it. He wanted to hurt me by any means necessary and proved it again by holding a bat in his hand–attempting to terrorize, hurt or do both.

I drove to Faith’s house in tears–only to be mad at myself. I knew I had to leave him, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. My thoughts bombarded me:

“Did I really love him more than I loved myself?”;“Why else would I settle for this type of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde behavior?”; “Why didn’t I just walk away and call it quits?”

I didn’t know the answers; I just knew I loved him. After each episode, I’d think of the good times we shared, and I’d give in and call him–and he’d be waiting for that call. It was a mutual addiction. A week later we started where we left off: in a ghetto love affair.

~*~

Chapter 3

Confused & Delusional

The New Year was here and I was overwhelmed with joy. I just started my new position as an administrative assistant for an advertising agency and things were looking up. Slimm and I were still going strong with our “break-up-to-make-up” routine, but he would always find something to argue about; and this time he was on my case about divorce.

Although my marriage to Blu was a disaster, he was the father of my kids; and I still had love for him. Furthermore, if I was going to file for a divorce, it would be when I was ready! And the bullying antics weren’t going to make me move any faster, which elevated Slimm’s frustration with me.

This is me; I don’t like to be told what to do! I don’t like to be forced into doing anything I don’t want to do; and I tend to rebel when I’m being controlled. Pressuring me about a divorce only made me think twice – I wasn’t sure if I was ready to divorce Blu. I mean, I hated my marriage and I wanted out. But now that the time was here to file for divorce, I could not bring myself to do it [I think it was God’s way of advising me to not do it]. For once I listened to the little voice in my head, even though Slimm kept insisting on the legalities. I wanted to be sure, so I took my time with this decision – that’s what I knew. I also knew my choices weren’t always the best because I was impulsive. I didn’t think things through and I didn’t want this to be another momentous mistake. I wasn’t angry with him because he urged me to get a divorce [we were in a relationship after all], it was the tactics that he used, to handle the situation, which made me furious. Those were my thoughts on the subject, but expressing them to Slimm would’ve made him “bust a nutty,” [a term used to describe one’s temperamental rage] so I kept my feelings on the subject to myself.

I know it sounds like I was trying to eat the whole cake but what would you do if you had a husband and a boyfriend without one of them trippin’ about the other at some point and time? I don’t know? I wanted to be with Slimm, and trust me when I say that I wasn’t trying to keep Blu in my back pocket for a rainy day. But I knew something was holding me back from moving forward with a divorce. I knew Slimm wasn’t the same person I fell in love with, and yet I still loved him. How I perceived it was Slimm flipped the script on me as soon as I separated from Blu. Therefore, I could only imagine what he would be like once I divorce Blu. That’s how I was thinking back then. I was just a confused mess. All I knew for certain was that it wasn’t time to file for a divorce.

Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones: The End of Ch. 2–Mutual Addiction


Reflections of A Woman’s Indiscretions

This book is dedicated to my mother Elena, grandmothers Josephine & Evril, & to all the Ladies in my life – Strong women I have seen Prevail no matter the circumstances or challenges.

Previously…

20131102-145624.jpgFor the remainder of the night I cried profusely–mostly trying to make sense out of nonsense. And when I awoke on the next day, my lip was black and blue; cut up; and swollen–this is what I looked like for my daughter’s 5th birthday celebration. I was hideous. I don’t even remember what I told my kids. Pathetic. I didn’t stay angry at Slimm, or away from Slimm. This was the self-inflicted pain of an addict.

~*~

December 2004

As the arrival of December came, I received a new position as an administrative assistant through a temp agency; and my kids began a new life at a new school and with new friends. But I was growing restless and lonely in Moreno Valley; not once had Slimm come to visit me. And I drove to L.A. on Fridays and back to Moreno Valley on Sundays religiously like a damn fool.

I began to see things for what they truly were. For example, when the kids had their parent teacher conferences and award ceremonies, I would go to them like I always had before, but this time I would do it alone–without Blu. It didn’t make any sense on why I would block the father of my children; Blu was a constant factor in our children’s lives. Why was I making it harder on myself? And possibly, on my kids? Furthermore, the distance from L.A. was starting to take a toll on me; I hated the drive! When I thought about it, I asked myself who was really benefiting from these living arrangements? And it was one individual, of course: Slimm. There was no telling what Slimm was up to, but it boiled down to one factor: he wanted to isolate me from Blu; which made him feel secure and in control. So that’s when I made my decision to move back to L.A.

I love city life and I always will–plus my kids needed their father. I got them re-enrolled to their original elementary school and our living arrangements were this: the kids lived with their dad since their school was less than a block away from his apartment and I would stay with Faith until I found a place of my own – six months, tops.
Reflecting back, many of my arguments with Slimm were centered around Blu; he didn’t want me in Blu’s apartment. So everyday after work I would take my kids to the library to complete their homework and brush my daughter’s hair in my car, rather than in Blu’s home, where my kids stayed. But what really stunned me was that he would have a hissy fit everytime I gave Blu my cell number and a chirp [FYI: A lingo for a call on Nextel phones back in 2004]–A major warning sign that I chose to ignore. How did he NOT expect me to be in contact with Blu?–the father of my children. I didn’t understand his way of thinking: Was he really this ignorant? Or was his insecurities that bad? Come to find out, it was both. He didn’t have kids and didn’t understand the relationship needed between two functioning parents. And if he could keep Blu at a far distance he’d feel secure and in control. He demanded power over me, which I allowed him to have.

Christmas Eve 2004

Christmas Eve is here; the most wonderful time of the year. A day of peace and love. However, this particular Christmas Eve would soon turn out to be the complete opposite–a day of war and hate.

The idea of spending the holidays with Slimm made me smile; this was going to be our first Christmas together. He arranged for a lavish hotel suite with all the fine trimmings. [I could even tell by the way he spoke to me]. I was hyped for the day to come and when it finally did he made it a point to treat me like an annoyance to him.

Our conversation over the phone was dry and short. His disposition towards me was cold; I once again cried uncontrollably, but on Faith’s bed. I had no idea what was going on. I begged him to talk to me, I wanted to know what the problem was, but the more I tried, the more irritated he became with me. I remember him saying to me in a callous tone,

“Sharine, you’re making a fool of yourself!”

Feeling embarrassed, pitiful, and foolish, I hung up the phone. With each passing moment, I was exposing myself to more hurt. I suppose it didn’t take much energy to treat me badly.

My confidence was diminishing; my self-esteem was dwindling; and I was constantly second-guessing myself: “Why is he mad?”;“Did I do something wrong?”;“And what was it?” I’m sure he knew how needy and weak I was, which is why he took each and every episode to another level. The day continued and I hadn’t heard from him.

Around 6 pm that evening I chirped his phone to see what was up–what the plans were. Of course, he didn’t hesitate to make me wait–responding back some time later with, “I’m busy.” I was heated. He was treating me like I was nothing–like I was of no significance. I sat in my car for a few minutes thinking of the mental games he was playing, but I had to shake them off. It was time to visit my kids where I should’ve been from the start. I pulled up to Blu’s apartment; turned off my phone; threw it on the passenger seat; and went upstairs.

We had a great time! We ate dinner; watched movies; and opened presents–we were happy and cozy. I missed our family life, and I found myself wishing it would be like this all the time; it made me sad. Why couldn’t it be like this when I was with Blu? I dismissed the thought because it would only break my heart even more. I put my kids to sleep [ ready for Christmas morning!]; kissed them goodnight; and headed out the door. I walked out to my car cautiously, looking around for any sign of Slimm; he was nowhere in sight. But he was sneaky like that though. [He often rolled around trying to spot my car and would be mad if he did.] Once I got inside my car safely I realized that I needed gas. So I headed to Arco gas station on La Cienega; but not before turning on my phone to see that I had a thousand missed calls and chirps from Slimm.

I couldn’t believe this guy! He didn’t want to talk to me earlier, but now he expects me to answer his chirp on the fly? In my frustration, I decided to do the same thing that he did to me: I ignored his ass. I was so tired and not in the mood to deal with his insecurities.

After filling up my tank, I jumped in my car and went East on Rodeo Road. I just crossed over La Cienega when Slimm, out of nowhere, cut me off in the middle of the street. The streets were vacant, which would explain his bold move. He was driving a rental–a large sedan-type vehicle–which he used to block my car from proceeding forward. He quickly jumped out of the car and walked briskly toward my driver window; my window was rolled up. Sternly he said,

“Lower your muthafuckin’ window, before I break it!”

I quickly lowered it and sat there scared beyond scared. Spit once again was flying all over my face,

“Why the fuck you didn’t chirp me back? Where the fuck you been?”

I answered him truthfully with a touch of attitude, “At Blu’s house–visiting my kids on Christmas Eve!”

I can tell in his eyes that he wanted to slap the shit out of me. He told me to follow him down the street, I was hesitant, but he was adamant.

“I’ll go if you promise not to hit me,” I said.

The words just came out with no thought. I sounded like one of those women that I promised I would never become: a weak woman–with inferior standards and a lack of worth. I was ashamed of myself. Is this what love was supposed to be? To have you feel ashamed of yourself? No, not at all! But I was losing myself in him.

I followed him a few blocks; made a left turn onto a silent residential street; and proceeded to park.

“Get out. I wanna talk to you!” he shouted.

Timidly I followed his instructions. With my back against my car door he bent down to get in my face [I’m 5’0 tall and he’s 6’6, so he had to bend down to look me in my eyes].

“Why the fuck you gotta be all up in that nigga’s apartment?”

I answered furiously, “What part of ‘my kids are there’ don’t you understand?!”

Then he did the unthinkable. He grabbed my arm with his bare hand, pulled me towards his rental, and without a second thought threw me into the trunk, and slammed the door on top of me.

It went pitch-black. Instantly I began to scream and I cried hysterically. All kind of crazy thoughts started to run through my head. I didn’t know what to expect. Was he going to set me on fire? Bury me alive? Kidnap and kill me? My thoughts were never ending. Although they sickened me, the truth was I had no idea where this man’s mind was going; so I thought the worse.

What seemed like hours, being locked away in a trunk, were only minutes; he released me right after my freakishly deafening cries [which I assumed was the reason he let me out]. Once I got out he said this to me,

“I’m not fucking with you.”

This was his way of stabbing me without actually doing it. He wanted to hurt me by any means necessary and proved it again by holding a bat in his hand–attempting to terrorize, hurt or do both.

I drove to Faith’s house in tears–only to be mad at myself. I knew I had to leave him, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. My thoughts bombarded me:

“Did I really love him more than I loved myself?”;“Why else would I settle for this type of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde behavior?”; “Why didn’t I just walk away and call it quits?”

I didn’t know the answers; I just knew I loved him. After each episode, I’d think of the good times we shared, and I’d give in and call him–and he’d be waiting for that call. It was a mutual addiction. A week later we started where we left off: in a ghetto love affair.

STAY TUNED NEXT WEEK TO READ NEXT PAGE OF SHARINE’S CHILLING BOOK SERIES

Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones: Chapter 2 Mutual Addiction


Reflections of A Woman’s Indiscretions

This book is dedicated to my mother Elena, grandmothers Josephine & Evril,
& to all the Ladies in my life –
Strong women I have seen
Prevail no matter the circumstances or challenges.

20131102-145624.jpgPreviously…..

Chapter 2

Mutual Addiction

Over the next few weeks, our arguments and disagreements with each other would only get worse. And it was during this time that I did not care what he would do to me; because I would always find my way back to him. It did not matter if he had a new reason to blame me or fault me for anything; and it did not matter if he used excessive physical force to get his point across (using me as his punching bag whenever he felt like venting his anger)–I still wanted to be his girl! There were times that he would threaten to leave me and I would get down on my knees, crying to him–begging to him– to stay; and he did. And there were times that he would be just plain mean, cold, and distant towards me; but I took it. He was worth any exertion of hurtful emotions I felt; and he was worth any risk of Indiscretions I have made in the past. He was my drug.

I was addicted to him, to us, and he was too. We could have made our lives easier, by leaving each other alone, but we didn’t. Instead, we would go back and forth, arguing and fighting with each other. But as always, in the end, we would eventually talk and make up. It was a cycle; a pattern – a mutual addiction.

~*~

This pattern of addiction is the reason why I am sharing these memories with you. These memories are some that are still living vividly in my mind. These are the memories that have deprived me of my self-respect, and have humiliated me the most. November 2004 happened to be one of many Indiscretions of that pattern.

November 2004

Today is Saturday, the weekend of my beautiful daughter’s (Amy), 5th birthday. The kids were spending the weekend with their dad, Blu, while I was planning to pick them up early Sunday to celebrate her birthday with dinner and a movie. Saturday started out great, and Slimm and I were back together again. Today he surprised me with some money and told me to go out and get my hair and nails done; and I did just that. I first went to the spa for my mani and pedi, then I thought to myself, “since my hair is already bangin’ I’ll keep the rest for myself.” I remembered Blu crossed my mind that day, because this was something he rarely did for me–Blu was never attentive to my basic needs. So when I saw Slimm doing these little things for me, I was very appreciative of his generous gesture.

Once I got done, getting fancy for my man, I went out to see him; everything was perfect! [I can still remember listening to Marvin Gaye’s “Distant Lover,” playing on the radio, as I pulled up to meet him.] When I pulled up on the block, he had a wide grin on his face–he was in good spirits and I was truly elated. Crossing the street with his long strides, he walked towards me, stopped at my driver’s window, bent down, and kissed my lips–and boy did the back of my hair stand up; just one touch as NeYo would say. He was being so sweet today–and he complimented my mani and pedi.

Politely he handed me an additional $200 and said in his deep sultry voice, “Here baby, go get you an outfit.” I didn’t ask any questions. I gladly accepted the money and was happy to go spend it.

[For the record, I am by no means a “Gold Digger!” I love people genuinely for who they are – not for their money or material wealth. The way I see it, a man with money is a plus; not a necessity. My family, originally from Belize, came to the United States in their teens and worked hard to achieve success. That’s what I knew. After my parents separated, my mother was a single mom who worked her ass off to give us what she could–with the exception of child support from my dad. She didn’t take hand-outs, gifts, or the like from men. I also saw my dad work multiple jobs at once to provide a better life for him and his family. I was taught from birth that if you want something in life, make it happen for yourself. I wasn’t going to ride on anyone’s coattails or beg for shit–and I still haven’t. Slimm was by no means a baller, but he did get his hustle on. He always had money in his pockets, and I didn’t ask questions because it was none of my business. He had his money and I had mine, but when I needed extra cash he looked out for me – as he should, because he was my man. But he was also a gentleman. When we went out, he took care of everything–and he was always taking care of me. Whether it was filling up my gas tank; feeding me good food; buying an outfit here or there; or simply giving me extra cash for miscellaneous items, he looked out for me and I appreciated everything he did for me.]

So we kissed goodbye that day and agreed to meet up at the hotel room later that evening.

I went to the mall and set out my quest for some cute boots. Since shopping can easily consume one’s attention, I put my cell phone on vibrate and stuck it in my back pocket. With all the activity that goes on in a mall, I did not want to miss any calls–and I especially did not want to miss Slimm’s calls. I knew for sure that I would feel any vibrations from my phone. So if anyone was trying to reach me, I would feel it.

Time flew by and I was in my zone. After a couple hours of shopping, I realized that my phone hadn’t vibrated at all. So when I stopped and looked at my screen, I noticed that Slimm had chirped me over a dozen times! [FYI: “Chirp” was a Nextel cell phone-a walkie talkie–that was pretty big from 2003-06] I started freaking out–I knew that this could only mean trouble. I was so nervous because I knew that this situation was going to create more havoc in my life. A million thoughts rushed into my mind: “He is gonna think I was cheating with another man, when the truth was I didn’t feel my phone vibrating.” I shouldn’t have to remind him of how “girls shop”–that should be common sense, “Right?” Not to an insecure man I suppose. I could always reason with Slimm because I consider these circumstances: I had an affair with Slimm while I was married. It is fair for him to think that “if I could cheat on my husband, then I could cheat on him too” but Slimm knows that I have plenty of admirers and I can choose any suitor I wanted. Bottom line, I knew Slimm was violent, and I was not going to risk getting caught up with another man–It’s called self-preservation.

I immediately hit him back on the chirp; my heart was racing and my pulse was beating heavily. I waited for him to respond back and when he did I knew that it was on! He was angry and unreceptive,

“Where the fuck you been?!”

I tried to explain myself, but he rebuked me–he wouldn’t even try to listen to anything I was saying. Our conversation then ended, and fifteen minutes later I made it back to the hotel room. As I walked inside, seeing him sitting at the table with a mean muggin’ expression on his face, ALL HELL broke loose. Almost immediately I tried to explain the situation to him, but he ignored me. In an act of superiority, he rose from his chair; walked towards me; and stood over me. Every time I would speak, he made sure to talk over me.

“Baby I…I didn’t feel my phone -” was all I could ever say to him; before he started doubting my words.

“I don’t want to hear your fuckin’ lies. I don’t believe you!”  He shouted.

His spit was flying all over my face as he went off on my ass–that’s how close he was to me. Then without warning: BAM! He head-butted me again, but this time in my mouth–busting my lip on impact. Blood began dripping all over the place, but that didn’t stop him from continuing his rage. He threw me around the room; tore the clothes off my body; and choked me out. I fell to the floor and I felt my body go limp; breathing became difficult–he must have noticed because he took a break from his rampage. Assuming that he was trying to regain his energy for round two, which I was not up for, I took the opportunity to sprint to the bathroom and locked myself in.

I found a corner on the bathroom floor near the shower; I brought my knees up to my chest, burying my face; and I cried uncontrollably. My heart was beating rapidly as though it was going to explode inside my chest. Just to think that three hours earlier I was consumed in his happiness, but now at this moment I was frightened for my life. I tried to calm myself, wondering how I was ever going to get out of this room, nonetheless the bathroom, alive.

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