The Immigrant

By Lonica Thom

I am Lonica Thom. My story is real. This story is what happened to me while I was in Guyana, South America, and the United States of America. In the year 2006, I was married to a man named John, an ex-Solider of the Guyana Defense Force, and I bore him three loving children. We were married for two years and a few months. He had an addiction to

• Language: English
• Publisher: US Ghost Writing
• Release date: Oct 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798868920264

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Preface

I am Lonica Thom. My story is real. This story is what happened to me while I was in Guyana, South America, and the United States of America. In the year 2006, I was married to a man named John, an ex-Solider of the Guyana Defense Force, and I bore him three loving children. We were married for two years and a few months. He had an addiction to drugs, which was unknown at the beginning of our marriage; such addiction to drugs led him to become a thief, liar, abuser, and irresponsible towards his family.

I have suffered abuse in every manner at the hand of this man possible. After years of his abuse, I prayed constantly to God, and he did answer and let him leave. Oh, what such relief! I was no longer afraid to go home to my children, nor lie at work to my colleagues that I had fallen, or it was a blackout, and I did not see the chair in the way. As such, I became a single mother when I wanted more for my children. In 2015, I migrated to the United States of America with a friend who betrayed me, and then I feel into a man's arms, looking for security and somewhere to stay; we dated for a few months when I became pregnant. I told him he then chased me out of his home during a snowing night.

Again, life was unfair to me in the land of milk and honey. It couldn't get worse. I became a homeless pregnant woman, and I began to sleep on trains, bus stops, and parks. After I met a friend who told me about women's shelters, I went to different shelters through PATH.

However, they found me a permanent shelter until I found myself at 30 Hamilton Place, Manhattan. After the birth of my son Ryan, looking at his ting feet and hands, his little brown skin, I have found a new strength. I became a warrior who was willing to seek a better, and I enrolled in the mid-Manhattan school for adults in 2019, where I completed my Ged, and then I began to search for greater heights. I also enrolled in Ashworth college 2021-2022 to pursue my education in Social Services. I did not stop there; I also wrote the Home Health Aid Course, where I earned money to send to my children. I believe in helping people, whether weak or strong.

Chapter 01: My Marriage

Marriage, a sacred bond between two individuals, is commonly regarded as a merging of affection, reliance, and camaraderie. For certain women, the institution of marriage can transform into a perilous arena where their mental and emotional stability is slowly chipped away. The pain inflicted by abusive marriages is immeasurable, leaving deep scars on the psyche of women.

There exist in the human brain memories of two kinds: good and bad. Is there an in-between? I wouldn’t know. I have experienced these two types of memories in a manner I cannot express properly. It was difficult for me to hide behind the garb of happiness when I was in unbearable pain. Still, I powered through. 

On this journey of life, I’ve learned that only those who have the courage to make others see their worth truly succeed and prosper. If you are unable to make people realize the goodness and greatness within you, you will end up living a miserable existence. And who wants that? My life has not been a bed of roses; I have had to deal with many a thorn along the way that pricked and wounded my feet. 

I had four siblings, and I was the eldest. As goes, being the eldest child comes with a lot of responsibility that can often become cumbersome. There is so much that is expected of you and that you must live up to come hell or high water. I felt a lot of pressure growing up, because of which I think I ended up making wrong decisions for myself. 

In 2006, I married a man of Caucasian descent who was a soldier by profession. My husband and I met in college. We were in the same field and studied in the same class, which meant we interacted more than any of us anticipated or desired. My husband, who was my boyfriend at the time, told me it was love at first sight, no two ways about it. He told me he couldn’t take his eyes off me the minute he saw me. His heart beat so loudly that he feared it would beat out of his chest and fall into his hands. He said he had never felt like that before for anyone else. It made me feel as though I was extraordinarily different from the rest of the girls and that I was indeed special. My husband was a smooth talker, and during our courtship days, he left no stone unturned in ensuring that he established himself as a lover who would go to the ends of the world for me. He made promises of an eternal love that would outlive time itself; at first, I would just roll my eyes at him, but as we spent more time together, I came to believe that his love for me was real and that he truly wanted me in his life. No better feeling than to know you are loved and wanted by someone so intensely, right? So much so that they proclaim you the reason for their very existence. It was all very romantic and endearing at first, as it always is, but when I fell pregnant with him, things started to take a turn.

My mother was adamant that I marry him as she feared we would be ridiculed by the villagers when and if they got wind of the shame her daughter had brought upon the family. I understood my mother’s fears, but my intuition told me not to marry my husband, even though I loved him with every fiber of my being. Nonetheless, I gave in to the pressure, and when my husband proposed, I said an emphatic and cheerful Yes. 

My marriage was by no means a bed of roses. If anything, it was extremely tumultuous as my husband would abuse me, which would always erupt into a huge fight. He once used a knife to harm me and approached me with the malevolent intent to cut me into pieces, but my son, who was only an infant and a few months old, broke the fight by coming between us and thereby saving his mother’s life. My marriage was not easy; I think to use the word easy would be a grotesque humiliation of what my marriage with my husband was like. He put me through so much that I don’t think I will ever be able to explain in words. The pain and heartache I endured because of him, the trauma he gave me, I wouldn’t wish this state of existence upon anyone, not even my worst enemy. 

Whenever we went out in public, he would embarrass me in front of his friends and other strangers. He was having an extramarital affair with a girl who was much younger than him. She was half his age, and he would take her to parties and family gatherings; arm in arm. I was so disturbed by his infidelity that I was unable to sleep for nights on end. I kept on questioning myself, where had I gone wrong? Was I not beautiful anymore? What had changed that made me so undeserving of love and respect in his eyes? My intrusive thoughts were killing me and making me lose my mind.

At social events, my ex-husband would frequently take jabs at my appearance, intelligence, or viewpoints, all with the aim of diminishing me in the presence of others. He would mock my interests and passions, making me feel insignificant and unworthy. My heart would race as I stood in the middle of the crowded room, feeling vulnerable and exposed. My delicate nature made me acutely aware of the critical eyes that seemed to bore into me, and I longed to disappear into the safety of anonymity. The weight of their judgment felt heavy on my shoulders, and I couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking of me. I wished I could escape their piercing gazes and find solace in the quiet comfort of my own company.

Even doing the most mundane of activities, like walking down a street with him, would fill me with a sense of dread. I knew that at any moment, I could become the target of yet another public humiliation. It seemed like these instances had become a recurring pattern in my life, haunting me every step of the way. I tried to shake off the feeling many a time, but it lingered like a dark cloud over my head. I often wondered if I would ever be able to escape the constant embarrassment