Pretty Face Ugly Wounds: Tales of a Diva

By Monique Jenks

This book is about a young woman’s transition from trauma abuse as a generational cycle, experienced teen homelessness and teen pregnancy. Didn’t let life circumstances get me down, I stayed encouraged, kept faith, sought education and employment, and had empowerment.

I graduated in Criminal Justice, became a public speaker and a Domestic Violence advocate. Within the chapters, it shares everything about my life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665561037

Monique Jenks

I am a mother and a new Grannie, I am now 45. I was born in Africa in the Democratic Republic of Congo. I love doing community outreach for homeless, Domestic Violence Survivors and teen mentoring.

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© 2022 Monique Jenks. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  05/31/2022

ISBN: 978-1-6655-6104-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-6105-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-6103-7 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in

this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

To my legacy. And with gratitude to everyone who has

prayed for me, encouraged me, and believed in me.

Kitoko mingi.

Contents

Chapter 1     In My Beginning

Chapter 2     Unconditional Love

Chapter 3     Transition

Chapter 4     Faith

Chapter 5     Reality

Chapter 6     The Wake-Up Call

Chapter 7     Divine Divas

Chapter 8     Co Co: Cherished Memories

Chapter 9     Choices

Chapter 10   Forgiveness

Chapter 11   Reflection

Chapter 12   Family

Chapter 13   Empowerment

Chapter 1

In My Beginning

God created me to be born to an African mother and an Irish father. I was born April 20, 1977, in Kinshasa, Zaire, Republic of the Congo. I was told that, ten days after my birth, I traveled to America with my parents and two of my mom’s sisters. Due to a war that was taking place in the Congo, all the Americans were being sent out for their safety. We transitioned to Seattle, Washington, where I was hospitalized upon arrival due to my belly button bleeding. I found out later I was given dual citizenship as an American and African, since I was a newborn when I traveled.

I have flashbacks of being two years old. My father appeared to often be angry at my mother. He would yell at her and be physically abusive towards her and her sisters. Her sisters were sent back to Africa because there were a lot of issues going on.

The cycle of abuse began for me at an early age in life, through witnessing what my mom went through. I feel that my mom was very courageous.

Mom was a hard worker. She waitressed, modelled, danced, and went to cosmetology school—all to take care of us. My father introduced her to being an exotic dancer after he brought her to the United States.

One night while our mom was working, my sister and I were being babysat by our family friend. Our father showed up at our new place and began to yell at the babysitter, demanding to take my sister and me. The babysitter refused to let us go, and my father became angry. I saw him hit the babysitter. The police were called. My sister and I were taken to the police department. And because our father made a big deal about our mom being at work as an exotic dancer, we were taken to a foster home.

The first foster home we were in, there were a lot of people living there. I kind of went with the flow, and my sister had a hard time. We were moved to another home where there was a boy who tried abusing me. I stabbed him in the foot with a pitchfork. So, we were moved to another home with a nice African American woman. She lived alone. She had a daughter who we would visit, and she was kind to us. She would braid our hair, and we would play with her children. I don’t remember the foster women’s name. I wish I could thank her for treating us with respect and care.

My mom would get visitations with us. She worked hard to get us back. I didn’t understand why we had been taken away from our mom, when it was our dad who had caused the issue. We were returned home with our mom.

The cycle of abuse continued throughout my childhood. By the age of six, I had experienced every form of abuse you can think of. It seemed like there were vultures preying on children everywhere. I was even abused by my own father at the age of six.

Even through all I was going through, I was in private Catholic school, enrolled in gymnastics and ballet.

When I was nine years old, my mother finalized her divorce from my father. We were living in a house my Grandma Monica owned in Wenatchee, Washington. My mom was working two jobs to take care of me and my siblings (by now, I had a younger brother).

Mom took up with a Hispanic man, who she eventually married. He was abusive and an alcoholic. Once again, the cycle of abuse was repeating.

On Mom’s thirtieth birthday was the first time I realized