Growing up emotionally deprived left me with two choices, adapt to survive or heal and learn what love was to live. A lot of times adapting in order to survive felt good but wasn't at all what I needed for my growing pains. My parents were victims of drug abuse leaving my siblings and me to become another statistic or resilient achievers. We had a choice to decide which road to take but we didn't have the right balance to overcome our circumstances. For me, life was deeper than just black and white. For me, it was mostly gray. I was different. My journey was different. I had to understand the hard way. Before it was too late to realize just how different I was, I had to learn lessons that broke me down in order to help me grow. I grew to embrace each road and each task that God had predestined for me. Healing was the best thing I could have done for myself and everyone around me. After healing, breaking generational curses were next on my list of things to do. I had to work twice as hard as anyone else and I felt I had so much time to make up for. This was no easy journey, but I had God on my side every step of the way.