I Lived, I Fought, I Won

By Latoya Wise

I Lived, I Fought, I Won was written to inspire and help bring clarity of life's challenging experiences, to others. It will talk about real-life issues that plague many people every day. To be more specific, it will provide different situations that most people go through. It will discuss the hurt, disappointment, and struggles along with proven solutions that helped the author. The author will talk about single parenting, the church hurt, relationships, and family issues, which seem to be some of the biggest problems in today's society. It will discuss the difficulties and how you can overcome or put up a defense on these particular matters. Thousands of people are struggling with different things in life, and most are looking for it to end or just peace in general. The author advises communicating with God.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9781662481468

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I Lived, I Fought, I Won

Latoya Wise

Copyright © 2022 LaToya Wise

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-6624-8143-7 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-8146-8 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

Introduction

The Start of It All

The Churches

The Women

The Assignment

Enemies

The Blessings

My Sister

About the Author

To God in heaven. He instilled in me to become an author to help and inspire many people across the world. God has allowed me to sit up under many individuals to gain wisdom and apply great teachings.

Acknowledgments

Special thanks to my biological mother for introducing me to Christ and then her mother, Rosa Gilchrist (RIP May 2013), for introducing her to Christ. And lastly, my great-grandmother, Mamie Golden (RIP July 1990), who introduced us all to the Lord, Jesus Christ.

My husband who took me to the deeper levels of the knowledge of God and to my children and grandchildren (RIP Mi'Angel September 26, 2018).

To my older sister who was a kind and good-hearted person, Rachel Worrell (RIP May 2018).

To the rest of my family and friends who God has blessed me with, thank you all for your support. But most importantly, thanks to all those who came up against me. If it wasn't for you guys as well, I would not have had this opportunity.

Introduction

This book is written to inspire many women, men, boys and girls across the world, to encourage and build up strength and confidence within themselves. I will show you how I lived, how I fought, and how I won with the help of the Lord Jesus Christ, my savior.

The Start of It All

June 7, 1974, was the day I had begun life here on earth. I was born completely healthy not knowing that I was the chosen one by God.

As I grew into a little girl, I had just about everything a little girl could have. Toys, canopy beds, and trips—you name it. I always had on baby doll socks and bonnets, so I was pretty well-dressed. I was the very first grandchild on my biological dad's side and was the second but first granddaughter on my biological mother's side.

I went on trips and had my best friend, Lady, who was my very first dog. She stood with me every step of my way especially when I had chicken pox.

As time went on and I begin to grow into my little girl stages, you know being potty-trained, dressing myself, and brushing my own teeth, I began to watch shows that consisted of either music or wealth. Falcon Crest, Dallas, and the Rich and Famous just to name a few were my best shows besides cartoons.

I remember my biological mother telling me a story about how the family on my dad's side would take turns and have dinner every so often at each other's house. So she goes on to say that in the midst of all the company, I burst out singing a song entitled Yes, Jesus Loves Me. The song just about every kid is taught. She said that I didn't just sing it. I sang it. The people's mouths dropped with amazement, and she was just as shocked as they were. That was the evidence of what she started to impart in me.

I wasn't where I should have been in my spiritual walk at that time, but I still had a little something in me to pass on about the Lord, stated my mother. That was just enough to push me and get me started on my life's journey ahead.

As years went by, I gained or had such a maturity level that was fit for an adult. Instead of me playing with kids my age I gravitated more toward older women who had potential or were already on their path to success. However, I was very careful who I sat under because it was just some things I did not want to pick up and carry into my adulthood such as drinking, drugs, and multiple sex partners. So I was very particular about who I drew myself to. I had it already in my mind the lifestyle I was aiming for. So I needed to sit around others to see how they achieved their goals and accomplishments. I wanted to keep to myself and not be bothered by the kids my age.

I used to get made fun of because when my older friends were out walking the streets and doing things that they should not have been doing. I would just sit outside by myself, and the smaller children would come over to play, sit, or just hold a good conversation with me. I couldn't just shoo them away that would have been mean, and I had not a mean bone in my body I felt. I looked at them as precious little angels. They were looking up to me now that I think about it. They carried no drama like the kids my age. I had no desire to hang with the kids my age; they were just too much. What I mean by that is they were losing their virginity and getting into fights over the most ridiculous things. For example, the fights would be over boys, clothes, shoes, and so forth. It just wasn't my cup of tea. And this was just the last years of elementary going into middle school.

Not only did I get picked on for playing with smaller children, I got picked on for having nice clothes and having long hair, and believe it or not the hottest boys would show interest in me. So I was very well disliked but not by everyone. The ones that were in my corner were more like me while the others you can tell they had problems.

I could never grasp the concept of why I was so disliked. I was young, tender, kind, giving, and sweet. I didn't really understand, and I always felt I didn't fit in with the cool crowd of kids no matter what group of kids I tried to hang out with. I remember the feeling of being scared, ashamed, embarrassed, and intimidated every time I would be around them. One minute they were my friends and; the next minute they weren't. It wasn't just me that got this treatment, but it was always someone in the group who was disliked for some odd reason. Whatever the ringleader said goes.

This ringleader would say look at my shoes and say how ugly they were. They were just cute girlie shoes. She never wore girlie things because she was just a rough girl who dressed in jeans and T-shirts and tennis shoes. So, girlie clothes were not part of her wardrobe.

Another thing that was an issue was being called nappy head when my hair was permed, cleaned, straight, and shiny. My mom was a beautician, so I and my sister's hair were always well-kept. There was so much unpleasantness going on during school day and after school day. The teachers didn't want to keep hearing it because they looked at it as pointless and us just being tattle-tellers. So I and the other children just had to tough it out. The ringleader and her assistant would gather other people and stand around whoever they decided to pick on and laugh and make fun of them. I was so confused until someone finally pointed out that those troubled kids were just jealous every time someone got something new—whether it was clothes, shoes, backpack, hair done, or even one of the boys talking to us.

Once this was pointed out to me I begin to look at how they were dressed, how often they got new things, and how they acted every time someone got something new. I started to ignore them and began to shake my head.

It had gotten to the point where they started calling my mother ugly. Now that took me to a whole different level in thought. My mother was light-skinned, skinny, and well-dressed and would get a lot of attention everywhere we went. The other kid's moms were out of shape, frumpy looking, and had no hair but would wear scarves, and they didn't care how they came out of the house and into the public eye. And most of them were feisty mothers, so no wonder those certain children acted the way that they did. I didn't care about all that stuff. I just wanted them to leave me alone and get