A Lily Grows In The Mud

By Rose King

I believe it was the power of Spirit that gave me the title of this book “A Lily Grows in the Mud” when I was not even thinking of writing or knew I could write. It took 18 years before the first pen would meet paper. During these years I was on my journey learning from the lessons being thought to me. I did not understand that I was in school, but by the time I started writing this book, it was clear. I was inspired by my heavenly helpers. I wrote 10 pages a day and in four short months I completed it.

The book (A Lily Grows in the Mud) started out as a talk I gave using Paul’s (Disciple of Jesus) journey to Rome on a ship that fell apart. I use this as a metaphor for social, emotional, spiritual and personal relationships of how life can start one way but ends in a different direction along the way. The shame and guilt of our life stories often leaves us carrying heavy emotional, psychological and spiritual burdens, but had it not been for our life’s trouble we would not have discovered our God given potential. It is during these times we discover who we are, when we were standing betwixt the devil and the deep blue sea that we take that leap of faith and the wings we did not know we had bid us to fly over mountains of life’s troubles and discrepancies until destiny is accomplished. I came from a good, hardworking family riddled with dysfunction on both sides. I was molested during my childhood leaving me with shame and guilt. I lived the rest of my childhood, adolescent and early adulthood with a shattered self-esteem, emotions that were like broken glass. I made poor choices with friends, sought love in all the wrong places and formed alliances with those who did not see me no more than I saw myself at the time. My life had become so toxic that I sought a way out to change my life. I charted many familiar and unfamiliar territories to discover myself, purpose and to change my situation. I discovered that right associations were everything to my success and recovering those shattered pieces of me. I have discovered through this journey that I already have what I needed to succeed in life. It was lying dormant under my muddied life. It took an awakening to who I was through affirming, fasting, praying, speaking and believing that I can accomplish whatever it is that I wanted. You can do the same if you align yourselves among the right friends by asking your spiritual guide who is on the inside of you for help. Your ship might have fallen apart like mine did through family troubles, and molestation. Yours might have gone awry through a bad marriage, unruly children, health conditions, or whatever your mud maybe today, we all have something to carry on this journey; this book is not for blame or scorn but to show that you can discover yourselves, find purpose, and live that life of peace that you so desires.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rose King
• Release date: Mar 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311544322

Rose King

Rose King is a writer, and is a published author of several books.Rose has written poetry, children’s books, and inspirational real life stories based on her own life experiences.Rose believes in destiny. Each of us were created with unique gifts and talents like fingerprints they are our own. She is living, loving, and sharing with others her work to empower them to embrace their gifts that is waiting to be discovered.Rose King was born in Kingston, Jamaica, West Indies. Acquiring an education amongstoverwhelming odds has been her greatest accomplishments and a catalyst into self-discovery. Itopened the doors to people, places, and opportunities that would not have been possible,otherwise.She earned a Bachelor’s degree from Pace University, a Master’s degree from the University of Phoenix, and is currently pursuing a PhD in Public Health.Rose is a registered nurse, and a motivational speaker. She has used the wisdom gained fromher life experiences to insightfully encourage and inspire others to become their best selves.The power of prayer, affirmations and walking by faith have been her staples, while goingthrough the throes of life.Rose has had a unique life with many struggles which she has overcome, and then used these experiences to empower her life and make her stronger. She has taken the lessons learned from yesterday, to guide and lead the way to a future of possibilities.

Book preview

Prologue

Long before my parents met, there was a pathology with the two families. They had more in common than anyone realized. Like attracts like, and birds of a feather really do flock together. Both families were very similar in regards to the adverse circumstances they came from; even though they had never met before my parents came together. The similarities were ironic; yet they came from two different worlds. Both had issues of abandonment, single parenting, and familial turmoil.

My father was an only child. Shortly after conception, his father was killed while attempting to break up a fight between two other men. My Dad’s mother, Granny Pearl was poor and uneducated, and my biological grandfather’s family felt they were of a higher social status, and never really accepted her. As such, Granny Pearl became not only a single parent, but had no support from her in-laws.

My father was born a few months after his father’s murder. However, just as fate would have it, Granny Pearl met an angel in the form of my Grandpa Vinnie. He adopted my father, and Grandpa Vinnie was the only male role model and authority figure that either my father or I ever knew.

Meanwhile, my mother’s conception was from a union based on deception, and she was born to a single mother. Her father disappeared before she was born, and she did not meet him until she was a young schoolchild. According to my mom, she met her father for the first time, when she had gone with her aunt to the riverside. It was there that a stranger approached her and asked, Do you know who I am? Moreover, that is when the man introduced himself as her father. Her Grandparents and her three older half-siblings who also had an absentee father raised my mother. The explanation given for the absent father of my mother’s three older siblings was that he suddenly ran away due to an explosive situation between himself and another person from his district.

There was a trend of missing fathers on both sides of my family. I often wondered why destiny would bring two groups of people together, who had such an unfortunate commonality. Although they were very different from each other, and from two divergent neighborhoods, their life situation and family dynamics had striking similarities. Both grandmothers on either side of the family lost their first love through extraordinary and unexpected circumstances. In turn, both were single mothers, and eventually formed a bond with another life partner.

It was from these two families, that I was born. Soon after my birth, I went to live with Granny Pearl and Grandpa Vinnie. It was with them, that I spent my infancy, childhood and most of my teenage years. It was during those years, that I experienced the falling away, falling out, and demise of my family. As such, from this standpoint, that I am narrating my journey as I experienced both sides of my family, and how my life took the path, it did.

The matters connected to my family were sticky and complex. I was not damaged; by anyone’s direct acts against me, but I was victimized indirectly. My life was muddy, I came out of mud, and the people all around me were muddy. All their family problems limited their ability to meet their own needs and mine. Their eyes could not see through the mud enough, to change themselves in any meaningful way. One reason or another kept them limited, in rising above their misfortunes.

My mother’s life was muddy, from her side of the family; and my father had his own mud, and they both brought all kinds of it into their relationship. My dad’s parents, Granny Pearl and Grandpa Vinnie, were respectable people that meant well. Nevertheless, their good works were overturned by many mistakes, which would justify their own novel.

 When I came along, I found myself in the midst of a family that was stuck in their own mud story, and I became a victim. My muddy beginning would lead to many unhappy days down the road.

 The stage had been set for failure, before my young life began. It was difficult to uproot ourselves from the mountain of mud in our lives. Thus, it was in this environment that my most formative years took place. This environment would shape my thoughts and actions, during my early life. My life became a journey that compelled me to overcome my background and transform my life. An analogy would be cow dung, which has a stink, but if used, as fertilizer will help things grow strong, healthy and beautiful.

One could guess that my life would never amount to much; but I wanted to be free, and they say only the truth will set you free. Eventually I had to confront the truth and change the direction I was going.

I was first inspired to write this book one weekend 18 years ago, on a Saturday afternoon in Brooklyn, New York. I felt the Divine wanted me to tell my story of how I overcame. As such, I was compelled to put pen to paper, even though I knew this would be a difficult piece for me to put in black and white. I will begin with the people who raised me.

My beloved Grandparents Vinnie and Pearl, loved each other very much. Grandma would proudly tell me they had been married 35 years, which seemed like a dinosaur’s lifetime to me. My father was an only child and I was the first grandchild of the family. I was the apple of their eyes, and raised like an only child. I became Grandma’s second child and the daughter she never had. Granny would tell the story how hard she had tried to have more children but it was never to be.

 My upbringing started in a home my Grandparents purchased shortly after returning from London, England, where they worked and lived for many years. The idea was to save up enough money to return to their island home of Jamaica, and retire in comfort. Many immigrants from the Caribbean relocate outside of their homeland to make a better life for themselves and their family. It is a risk that many take, and it often means leaving their children behind. My father remained in Jamaica when they went to England, and was a man when they returned. Not only was my father a man, but he was becoming a father himself, with a baby (me) on the way.

 Granny Pearl welcomed me into their home with open arms. Growing up, I was a happy, energetic child. I was inquisitive and learned easily. Grandpa Vinnie was an educated man who valued education. Wherever or whenever, he could find a book and learning materials, he would bring them home.

Life was wonderful in the earlier days. I was Granny Pearl’s companion during the day when Grandpa Vinnie was at work. I recall frolicking and playing in the yard, planting make believe gardens and playing with the two beautiful dogs they had, Bully and Spot. I played alone most of the time because there were no children nearby.

In the Caribbean, the sky is always blue and the sun shines bright except for the months of the rainy season. I would run and play barefooted, catching a sharp rebuke from Granny Pearl who would holler, Put your slippers on child! You going to dirty your feet and catch a cold, and then I will have the trouble of running to the doctors with you. I would put them on for a moment. However, as soon as she was not looking I would forget and the slippers would come off again, as I ran the full stretch of the yard back and forth.

The weather in Jamaica requires light clothing and leisurely attire. It was nearly impossible to get a kid to wear their little flip-flops all the time. The earth under your feet just feels good. What can I say, it is the island of wood and water, white sand beaches and great weather most of the time.

Bully and Spot, our two beautiful dogs were my toys. I sat on their backs as if they were ponies, and they tolerated me with kind quietness. Eventually, I would get off and get fixated on playing with something else. They would never bark or snarl. I loved them dearly and so did my Grandparents.

My Grandparents were not typical Jamaican Grandparents. They traveled and wanted education, and had a European vision of child rearing. They had a strong belief in the empowerment that came with an education. After all, Grandpa Vinnie was an educated man before he left Jamaica for England.

My mother and Granny Pearl’s views clashed with each other. Granny believed that cooking and cleaning should take a backseat to getting an education. My mother held the opposite view. As a result, my siblings whose upbringing were by my maternal grandmother where taught the ins and outs of cooking and cleaning thoroughly. On the flipside, my Granny Pearl believed that if I had an education, I could hire people to do my cooking, cleaning and other domestic chores. Besides, one could always learn about domestic chores; but the opportunity for an education was not always available.

My Grandparents regaled me with stories of the different nationalities they met while living in London. As I listened, I created a vision of London in my mind, and wondered if I would ever be able to see it. It seemed there were more opportunities outside of Jamaica, and in places like Europe. They told me a lot about the cultural, social and political climate of London at the time. The stories they told me, gave me a broader vision of the world that made me realize that more was possible for me, if I had an education.

Grandpa Vinnie had a bright vision of what he wanted for his family. As faith would have it he was plagued by financial difficulties that made it difficult to provide for us. The money they had worked for, so long and hard in London they were robbed of by thieves. As a result, the building and repairs on the house my Grandparents owned came to a shrieking halt. Anyway, Grandpa kept a quiet and dignified exterior about this new development.

The first 10 years of my life was like a mountain that was saturated after a rainstorm and begin crumbling in a downward like thick mud and everything in its path would be affected and nothing will remain the same. One after the other a stream of events occurred. Our two big beautiful dogs died, one after the other. Growing up alone, they were my only friends and playmates. Why they died was unclear. They were not the only two things, my innocence was up for grabs, Grandpa Vinnie would fall apart, and what seemed like a slow emotional death of Granny Pearl.

Grandpa Vinnie became an alcoholic and suffered from a bleeding ulcer that his financial woes exacerbated, and subsequently died. We looked up to him with love and respect, as the head of the family so this turn of events was very distressing. Things in our lives, deteriorated rapidly after that, forcing me to grow up.

For the first time I saw Granny Pearl as a vulnerable person and it shocked me. I began to feel more isolated and fragmented. The fact that my other two siblings, who had the same mother and father as I did, were being raised in the country by my maternal grandmother loomed largely in my mind. The death of Grandpa Vinnie made me sad and fearful for the future of what other hardships we may encounter along the way.

 I became lonelier, while Granny struggled to provide the necessities for us. She was often distracted and emotionally withdrawn, and now saw the need to have me socialize with other children my age. Therefore, she began allowing me to play with the neighbor’s children in their yard. A neighbor had two well behave little girls, and she assumed their parents had good moral character. In allowing me to play with these girls what could go wrong, she thought their parents were honorable people. She felt it was safe.

Going to their house to play, would change my life forever. From an innocent and happy child, I changed to a pre-adolescent that was plagued by shame and guilt. The neighbor girls’ father began fondling and touching me that continued for seven years. I was too afraid and ashamed to report it to Granny. My religious upbringing was as a devout Catholic, so I knew right from wrong. Up until that point, my confessions were composed of minor sins. Like the time I had eaten the sugar that was not mine to eat, or drinking the condensed milk straight out of the can. Now, there was a drastic departure from simple disobedience. Sexual molestation left my soul and spirit bare, and stripped me of my pride and innocence. I felt brutalized and vulnerable. My Grandparents were people of good moral character and they taught me to be the same. As such, this depraved act destroyed me emotionally; my life deteriorated rapidly.

Chapter 1

Childhood Pains

Childhood is supposed to be a time of treasured memories. However, instead of dolls, fun, and games mine was abruptly interrupted; I was now carrying a dark cloud of self-loathing. The worst thing was that I kept everything secret. I hated myself. I felt like nothing. I did not feel that I fit in with other children, anymore.

I was on a downward spiral emotionally. One that wound me into an intricate web of guilt and shame that brought me almost to the edge of despair. It was almost like having a slow melt down. Granny was distracted with her own problems and did not notice the change in me. Granny was in need of emotional support herself, as she struggled to overcome the setbacks life had thrown at her. The endless hours she worked in England had not paid off. She had lost every dime; and to top it off, their house was only half finished with no proper amenities. I accepted that I was learning the hard way. At the time I felt as if I was walking in a cloud of darkness, and had judged myself so harshly for creating a life of secret shame for myself.

As a molested child, it was difficult for me to believe that I did nothing wrong. It was difficult as a child to realize that the molester was the truly guilty party, not me. I lived my young life as if I was shame personified. Looking back, I realize most of my unusual behavior and emotional problems were a direct result of this sexual abuse.

As I grew into a teenager and entered early adulthood, my molester was gone. But my emotional troubles continue into the next phase of my life. Therefore, I transferred my shame and guilt onto my personal, intimate relationships. This created an emotional roller coaster for every relationship I had. I expected the worst and I got it. I just could not hold my relationships together. I felt unworthy. I could not trust anyone either. After all, the very grown-ups who should have protected me violated me. Many of the relationships in my life that had gone awry were a result of my belief, that no one cared and everyone was there for the same thing: doing no good. I damaged many, many relationships with good people.

The shame of my secret made me hide who I was; therefore I lacked transparency in my relationships. I pretended that I was like everyone else that I had a great life and all was well. The help I needed could not be possible until I came to the understanding that hiding would only keep me in bondage that had the possibility of robbing me of a life that qualifies me to be like anyone else who is living a life to the fullest. Writing this book allowed me to empty myself, and examine every inch of my feelings, the impact of shame and guilt-this was a healing process for me.

The Impact of Shame and Guilt

The psychological impact of shame and guilt is to blame and self-victimize. I know this all too well, because I lived this way for many years. The burden of guilt I carried overshadowed my early days. I told myself I was a bad child, which stunted my social and emotional development.

I punished myself, and had a gift for self-sabotage. I kept all the wrong friends, and surrounded myself with people who were toxic. I was always getting into one trouble or another. I remember when I met my first boyfriend. To be honest, I took one look at him and my instinct told me I should stay away from him; but I got involved any way. My lack of self-worth influenced my poor choices. Thus, I kept company with people that I was most comfortable. I realize that if you are in a low place you will operate emotionally from that low place.

Shame will make a liar out of you, in the name of protecting yourself from facing the issues of your life. I could not come clean with those who wanted to know about my life. Therefore, I made up stories that were colorful; ones that made me look good. There was a feeling of worthlessness that I associated with myself. I felt there was nothing about the real me to be proud of, because of the sexual abuse.

 I acted the best way I knew how, in order to save my sanity. Do you understand what it meant to be with other young women my age, who could celebrate their virginity, while I did not even understand what, had happened to mine? I carried a heavy emotional burden. As such, I kept making up stories about my past to fit in with everyone else’s story. With this attitude, I felt I could belong. This was about my emotional and social survival. It took time to understand that hiding allowed the perpetrator to continue this deprave act.

I felt alone even though people surrounded me. Physically, there were other children around, but I was isolated by my story. I learned not to show my emotions. I pretended a lot, but my face often told a different story. People often commented, on how angry I looked. I craved friendships and relationships; but then, I would sabotage my interest without understanding I was doing this. I felt I had nothing extra in me to give away. Maybe I was punishing myself, for allowing someone to take advantage of me that is how guilt works. I do not believe my abuser felt as much guilt as I did. These emotions prevented me from moving forward in life in a positive way.

Though I was never clinically diagnosed with depression, one could say I was depressed. I suppressed many emotions and suffered in silence, over the years; to the point, I became numb. I felt disconnected; I did not know who I was really. I was in a world by myself and felt no one knew that I was there, in that world. This is the best way I can describe how I was feeling. Fear and mistrust held my soul hostage.

My fear was deepened on two fronts. For one, I was angry with Granny Pearl for not being more assertive, independent, and more self-empowered. She had trouble making decisions for her own life, and always looked to Grandpa Vinnie to do so. I loved Grandpa, but I also realized that our lives were in a crisis because he made some serious errors in judgment. Yet, Granny continued to play a submissive role to him, and repeatedly adhere to his poor decisions. He was the man, and she thought this was how marriage should be. She did not do what was right for her, but what Grandpa Vinnie wanted. I thought it was far more important to have our financial situation stable, rather than totally submit to Grandpa Vinnie.

I once overheard a private conversation between Granny and her only friend Ms. Frances that reinforced my fear and mistrust of the world. I received the impression, that men were nothing but trouble. What I observed within my own family, and experienced on my own re-enforced that belief. This belief determined how I approached my own relationships when I became an adult. I quietly rebelled against Granny’s behavioral model. I told myself I was not going to be a pushover for any man. I was going to talk back. I would not be the submissive kind. Yet, even though I rebelled against Granny’s submissive behavior, I admired her strength, and her commitment to love and family. She was the humblest woman I ever knew.

Both of my Grandparents were strong advocates of education. Granny Pearl always told me, that education was the catalyst to economic and social advancement. I always had complete support and cooperation from Granny if I was reading, writing or doing something academic. Domestic chores were not a priority for her. Cooking, washing, cleaning and domestic chores were all secondary.

Bedwetting

I am not quite sure why my bedwetting started, but there were many stressful events in my life. Separating from my parents at an early age, and the many hardships of my Grandparents’ life affected my emotions. Being an only child, meant adults surrounded me, so I was privy to many adult conversations about the hardships they were facing. I also heard negative remarks from the neighbors about the poor, dilapidated condition of our house. Our troubles were many and complex and it seemed there was no end in sight. One night, Grandpa Vinnie was drunk and shouting by the window. Rumor was he disturbed a ghost, which was going to return to our house at that same time, every night. In addition, I heard Granny Pearl talk about a neighbor practicing witchcraft. Thus, I was fearful that a bad spirit would be lurking in our semi darken house at nights. It made me afraid to get out of bed at night.

Furthermore, our toilet was outside in the yard, and no way was I venturing out there to use it, and consequently peed the bed. I would wake up cold, wet, and afraid of how Granny was going to react to my wetting the bed, again. Of course, this created more expense, and embarrassment for me when the mattress was outdoors to dry out, for everyone to see. It was one more thing added to the shame and embarrassment I felt. Therefore, I hid myself out of sight from the neighbors, as much as possible.

Relationships

Building and maintaining solid relationships is the bedrock of a successful life. No man is an island and we need each other as we journey through life. The social skills we learn during childhood continue to build and grow as we grow. If those social skills were undeveloped, then it becomes difficult to get along with people, form good personal, social, or business relationships. I lacked the ability to form and maintain relationships. As I transitioned into adulthood, it was obvious that I also lacked some vital social skills.

 It is one thing to fight and squabble with your friends on the playground or in the neighborhood; but life takes on a completely new meaning when you become an adult. Adulthood is a time when we are getting married and building relationships intended to last a lifetime. When you do not have the tools to navigate those relationships, it makes your life difficult. My relationships were a rough sea of emotions going up and down like a rollercoaster. Fear and mistrust always played a key role; I used these two emotions as a way of protecting myself from being taken advantage of and being hurt.

Why I was aloof with people took me many years to understand completely. I wanted friends but I would not allow myself to open up to anyone, and would push them away. I remember a friend once called me The Iron Lady, but I was not tough at all.I actually craved what I was pushing away. I did not know how to open myself up or how to trust anyone. It meant I would have to come clean and be transparent, and this made me extremely uncomfortable, because of my fear and lack of self-esteem. My own self-acceptance was not strong enough to hold me up. I learned to hide my feelings at an early age. Pushing others away was a defense mechanism I used to prevent others from discovering the painful secrets of my past. Who I felt I was, was too painful to share with anyone. It would take time, travels, meeting enlightened individuals, putting one foot in front of the other before things began changing.

God sent some of the most enlightened women my way. These women took me under their wings and showed me a new way of doing things. They used their life experiences to create awareness, and bring greater understanding of what I was experiencing. I met these women at various stages in my life. Different ones would show up at different times to show me the way, and assist me with what I needed to accomplish. These women held my hand through uncharted territory. Some offered a shoulder to cry on, each time empowering me to reach higher in myself. I became the person I am today; through years of spiritual and emotional training that enabled me to embrace my real self.

Impact on My Early Learning and Education

I went to school because I had to, not because I wanted. The fun was gone from my world. Learning became difficult because of the social and emotional baggage I carried. It was difficult to concentrate. There were days when I wished I could magically escape, or shape-shift into someone else to escape my troubles. Nevertheless, there was no escaping, and I felt disgusted with myself.

At school, there was a big old plum tree on the playground. I liked to stand under it for protection from the scorching sun. The other children would run and play or stand in groups talking to each other, but I would stand under the plum tree. I dreaded joining my classmates, because my feelings of self-loathing and unworthiness made it too difficult.

 Most of the time, when I came home from school, the oppressive sorrow present in our lives would be an instant reminder as I meet Granny Pearl at the gate. The shabby condition of the house was a painful reminder of what had gone wrong in our lives. Sometimes children made fun of us, and the neighbors could be extremely cruel. They whispered about us and laughed; all this took a toll on my academic performance.

By the time I reached fifth grade, my grades plummeted. The shame and guilt I carried, deeply affected me. After Grandpa Vinnie died, Granny Pearl and I were alone most of the time. My father visited occasionally, and my mother stopped by to see us sometimes. Nevertheless, I wanted to get away because I felt trapped in this place, living a secret life of shame and guilt, which was smothering me.

Later, my dad moved in with Granny Pearl and me. The unfinished house we lived in was a continual reminder of how life had failed us.It was a source of disappointment and shame. My dad attempted to improve the conditions of the house in which we were living, but not much changed.

When