Never Give Up

By Kia "Cupcake" Wilson

People argue Black lives matter, White lives matter, all lives matter, but, baby, "Your Soul Matters." Showing God's unconditional love saves souls. Show love, be love, and guide others to the light! We have copyrighted the phrase "YOUR SOUL MATTERS" to share this message with the world.

xoxo Mother Love

The obstacles we face in our

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trilogy Christian Publishing
• Release date: Apr 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685563158

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NEVER Give Up!

Kia Cupcake Wilson

NEVER Give Up!

Trilogy Christian Publishers A Wholly Owned Subsidiary of Trinity Broadcasting Network

2442 Michelle Drive Tustin, CA 92780

Copyright © 2022 by Kia Cupcake Wilson

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.TM Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.TM

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Trilogy Disclaimer: The views and content expressed in this book are those of the author and may not necessarily reflect the views and doctrine of Trilogy Christian Publishing or the Trinity Broadcasting Network.

Manufactured in the United States of America

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN: 978-1-68556-314-1

E-ISBN: 978-1-68556-315-8

Dedication

To my little sister, my angel, you are my sunshine! I will always cherish our memories, your laughter, and your contagious smile. I vow to live on purpose for us! Thank you for teaching me how to live! Thank you to my twin flame for motivating me beyond my wildest dreams, being a great listener, and teaching me how to love!

xoxo Cupcake

Acknowledgments

Never Give Up is a testament to my life. Walk by faith, and not by sight has always been my life’s scripture. My story illustrates details of how my walk of faith has led me where I am today. I would like to thank God for the journey, my parents, who gave up their childhood to raise their four children, and my children, who have always been my greatest source of motivation. My prayer is that you are inspired by my journey to learn your self-worth, know that you are never alone, and to never ever give up. I would also like to thank my high school teacher, Mr. Benson, for being a father away from home, believing in me, and helping me when I needed him the most. Let this be repayment for my debt. Thank you to each and every person who believed in me, supported my dreams, and helped me along the way. Life has granted me a million and one miracles. I am nothing without God, and I owe Him my life. This book has been delivered as promised as a sacrifice of my truth. May your life forever be enriched! Thank you so much, Sissy. This is for us!

Chapter 1: He Can Hold You Now

I was born tired, birthed into shame, inequity, and poverty. As time proceeded, I grew more and more weary. Childhood trauma created the toxic patterns in which I formed unhealthy relationships, friendships, and trauma bonds that constantly left me feeling defeated. I have always had this inner knowing that God had great plans for my life. It was too difficult to see beauty because it was buried underneath a lifetime of pain. My heart has always been so pure, wanting to see everyone through rose-colored lenses. It is a brutal reality that not everyone is intended to play a permanent position in your life. Everyone you encounter is not always for your highest good, and making life decisions without first consulting with God will bring so much headache and pain. It wasn’t until I forfeited my own will for God’s will that He literally began ordering my steps, and consequently, life became more blissful, and my vision became completely clear. I was blind, but now I see. With God’s divine order, protection, and guidance, I was able to turn a lifetime of pain into purpose. When you lose something, there is always something greater to be found. Everything in life is an exchange. God is the one and only source that can refund your bad experiences for good ones, exchange heartache for happiness, and give you pleasure for your pain. I was always in a rush to get somewhere, and as a result, I never made it to the finish line. I always had to start over completely. It was like driving somewhere thinking you know the way to go, but you always end up at the very place that you started. Driving blindly because you forgot that MapQuest was merely a tool, yet God is the source of direction. The world can make you believe that life is a destination. We are always too eager, too anxious to arrive, yet once we do get there, there is always a need to go to the next destination, then off to the next, creating a cycle of never being fulfilled. The only way to find contentment is to be content in Him. God says to be anxious for nothing, yet the world has created the illusion that being anxious is a thrill. I had to learn that life is a journey, a journey in which you never arrive. You commit to the consistency of living, being authentic, and there is no pressure, only peace. Peace is a gift only God can give. I never knew the exchange for peace and a new perception would ultimately be the life of the very person I was the closest to. I just never imagined that losing my first friend, my sister, would be the loss that directed me to discover the true definition of life! I have learned through enduring this excruciating pain that endings are beautiful beginnings. I will share my story with you to inspire you, motivate you, and encourage you to never give up.

This journey has not been easy; however, here I stand after all that I have been through. I have had trust issues my entire life; however, the greatest decision I have ever made was to put my trust in God and to walk by faith. I don’t even know where to begin, so allow me to start with the hardest part—losing the very part of me that created a spark so fiery and passionate, to live a more purposeful life, to face my true self, and to begin the journey of healing and self-love. My sister, my very first friend, left me, and when she left, all that I had left was to face something we were taught to hide, the truth! Have you ever thought that you could die from a broken heart? Have you ever loved someone more than you ever loved yourself? So when they left you, there was a huge hole in your soul that caused you to realize you never loved yourself? The last day that I felt normal was Wednesday, October 9th, 2019. It was the last time I heard my sister’s voice.

I never knew that it would be the very last time. I could never have fathomed that outcome, nor did I see it coming. I would have stayed on the phone longer. I would have told her over and over again how beautiful she was and how life was better just because I got to boss her around for thirty-five years. I would have held the phone like life support. For six days, I impatiently waited for her to answer my call, return my text messages, or check my inboxes. To no avail, it never happened. There was an awkward feeling in the pit of my stomach and an indescribable emptiness in my heart. I felt so helpless. I felt so uneasy, and on the sixth day, I grew weary, frustrated, and I knew that something was wrong. The truth is I knew before I knew that my sister had died and how she died, I just didn’t understand at that time how, in fact, I knew. On Wednesday, October 16th, 2019, via Facebook messenger, I received the worst news of my life. The message read: Are you Yanna Anise’s sister? Seeing this first question immediately prepared me for what was to come because I already knew. I had inboxed her just a few minutes prior and had really high hopes that she was the one contacting me. The next sentence in the message read, Please get to the babies. They found Yanna dead. This message changed my entire existence. I had to deliver the worst unfathomable news to our parents, siblings, friends, and family. It still feels so unreal. Enduring this great loss, in fact, changed my life spiritually, emotionally, and even physically. My life was turned upside down, and the journey ahead was one I couldn’t have prepared for nor dreamed of. I discovered in the lowest moment of my life that I had been blinded by illusions and masking a lifetime of pain, and in fact, I was very much dead yet alive and wasn’t living at all. I made a vow to my sister that I would live for us, and I don’t have any intention of breaking the promise I made to her.

I was the second child born to unwed teens. It’s needless to say that I learned how to survive way before I even learned what it meant to live. We didn’t have much, but we did have each other. We moved a lot; I always felt a lack of stability and security, so as I grew older, my goal was to find stability in a relationship. Although that’s not a bad goal to obtain, the key, and essential ingredient, has to be rooted in love, which always seemed to be the missing touch. I don’t really think I knew what love was until I became a mother. I came into the world an old soul, and I always had this inner feeling of a greater purpose beyond what I could physically see. I helped raise my siblings, as my mother worked and went to school to provide for us. She and my father got married when I was seven years old. He was a home self-contractor, very talented, and a big dreamer. He taught me how to dream. My mother taught me perseverance. I always felt shunned and was the black sheep of my entire family. We grew up in an era where kids should be seen but not heard. I had so much knowledge even as a young girl, so much wisdom, and yes, opinions too. I often got in trouble for being too deep, talking too much, or expressing myself, which, consequently, taught me that my voice held no equitable value. Therefore, I followed suit. Words are our power, and due to the lack of being taught to use my words instead of holding them captive, I dimmed the light and the power that was gifted to me. This caused me to put up a wall and value what others told me to do instead of listening to my inner knowing and accepting that my words were important and were valid. I started seeking validation from others, and every attempt seemed to hinder my progress as I sought man’s approval and not the approval of God. I knew that was not the intent of my parents; they only knew what they had been taught, which stemmed from generation to generation; however, it was the outcome. My thoughts and opinions did not matter. I spent my life seeking validation through others, never realizing all I ever needed, God had already given to me. Being empathetic caused me to attach myself to narcissistic relationships, and after nineteen years of toxic relationships and losing my identity to parenting, I became broken. When I started my journey to healing, I realized it wasn’t the relationships that broke me; I was, in fact, broken as a child. The wounds I had were never addressed; they had band-aids, and every time a bandage fell off, I replaced it. I replaced it with meaningless relationships and friendships that caused more scars, ultimately still being fragile, wounded, and even more damaged. The Bible has this scripture in the Book of Luke (8:16) that says, No one lights a lamp then covers it with a bowl and hides it under a bed. So many of us are born with a light, a fire that burns on the inside of us. A holy thing inside of a human thing, yet we are covered and hidden with trash. Others have dumped trash on us, the negative things they have perceived us to be, which consequently dims the light that is within us. It isn’t until we learn to take the trash out and rid ourselves of the things that no longer serve us that we discover we were always treasure. We just had to dump, release, and pick up the garbage thrown into us.

When my sister passed away, I didn’t just feel like I lost a sibling but also a child. I played second mom to her, and we never got the chance to become the sisters we always wanted to be. I was always bossing her around like a mother. In my defense, if I didn’t, who would have? I take my role as a big sister very seriously, and although they found my tactics harsh or annoying, I always wanted the best for them. My parents were very dedicated to us; they worked hard and always provided for us. I realized as I grew older that they couldn’t give us what they didn’t have. They were far too young to have the experience needed or the capacity to focus on things concerning our mental health, self-worth and helping us build beyond adolescence. They lacked these skills themselves, and they were emotionally unavailable, and because of this, it caused us to attract other people, places, and things that were unavailable and unsuitable to the needs of our souls and only temporarily suited our tangible desires. This caused cycles of dysfunction, which started the basis of the construct of my sister’s death.

When I was a little girl, my sister and I didn’t have very much in common; however, this one song always brought us together, even if it was just for a few moments. We always had a deep bond with music. We loved to sing, and music has always been an intricate part of our family for generations. I don’t have the strongest singing voice. I always had a deep voice, raspy, but my sister’s voice was so beautiful. So powerful and angelic. She sounded like a songbird. She would always take the top, the high notes, and I would take the bottom. We would always sneak into our big brother’s room when we lived on Homewood Ave. His room was in the attic, so we loved how our voices sounded in his room, and besides, he was never home. Our favorite song to sing was He Can Hold You Now by Kirk Franklin. Even as little girls, we would always get to one part of the song that illustrated feeling broken and feeling like your smile was stolen from you. We would break down in tears nearly every time. Who knew that this very song would be the story of our lives. We didn’t hug much. We didn’t have a very affectionate family, but in those moments, we would hold each other. It didn’t matter that the following moments would be arguing and fighting; in those moments, we were as close as ever. When I hear that song, she still feels very close to me. I learned that spirits never die; only our bodies do. I was the mean big sister when we were kids, very mean. She was very emotional. We didn’t understand each other. I was bossy. I wanted to be like her mom and tell her what to do. I loved her very much, and my meanness was protection, or so I thought. I had to be her mom at times, most times. I just wanted what was best for her. It’s funny how I fought her for years until one day: she finally fought me back. Then, I explained to her that that was the reason I beat her up: because she let me. When she stopped allowing me to hit her without hitting back, I stopped. I never liked confrontations, believe it or not; however, my lack of being able to express myself when I was sad or disagreed resulted in abuse, which is what I was taught. Keyanna could cut you into a million pieces with her words and would defend herself, so we both indirectly taught each other to stand up for ourselves and survive. Although I cannot physically hold her as I used to, I continue to hold the vision she always had for us to be unified, happy, and healed as a family. Never in a million years did I ever think that the same song that we sang together as children would be the very song played at her funeral as we all held hands and hugged each other as we said our final goodbyes to our baby girl.

Her death was no one’s fault; however, as a family, we all failed her. Her death was the catalyst for change in a family that has been cursed by lies, division, toxic relationships, and toxic parental patterns that have kept us from living abundantly, as God promised us to live. I vowed that neither her death nor her life would be in vain. I was chosen to break every curse, every chain, and restore our family’s name!

I remember wanting to get my parents together for an intervention. My dad was cool about it, but because it was too early after they divorced, my mom refused to sit down and talk with him. I just had the idea that if we could sit down and Keyanna could see our parents come together for her, it would make her happy or comfort her in some way. After all, breaking up hurt my sister far more than it hurt us. We all grieved their divorce in many ways. Once I got past the pain, I was relieved, relieved I no longer had to try to keep them together, no more being a middle man to their worries or problems. I had so much pressure since I was little to try to keep them together. It was exhausting, and even though they may not have perceived it that way, it indeed was a heavy burden for me to carry, especially as a child. When they got mad at one another, they vented to me. I’ve always been the outlet to most people in my life, but the heaviest part of my reality is, who did I have to go to during my heavy unloads? It led me in the arms of those who I thought would catch me, but only ended up being in the arms of men who knew my weaknesses, knew my damage, knew I had no help, and they were my help, so they inevitably used it against me, every single time.

Each time, I felt more and more worthless. Keyanna suffered in silence, but now that she’s gone, her silence was so loud. I tried to help her as much as I could. Being married to a narcissist was complicated. He would make my nephew go home, and he caused so much division between my sister and me with his controlling and dictating