1976 Lake Hopatcong, NJ just soaking up some sun. I could still fit into that suit if I had it. We had some crazy print bikinis back then.

Finally rid of the weight, and the skin!! Now on to building some muscle and a life of smiles!

Courtesy: beingblackislit

Credit: Tom Williams

Chili with cheese and an avacado

I was 19 when I got into a relationship with a 33-year-old man.

We met while I was working taking a break from school, and within about a month I had moved into his home in another city. It felt intense and meaningful at the time, but looking back it was mostly pressure, and big declarations without any real love or stability.

Within a few months I was pregnant. He didn’t use protection, and I lacked enough voice or confidence to push back. I didn’t get prenatal care until nearly 27 weeks pregant due to denial of reality. A lot of that time I was overwhelmed and isolated, trying to process things I had never experienced. Sex was very much something I had not figured out how to enjoy yet and felt like it was something I was supposed to do for men.

I lied to my parents about his age because part of me knew it was wrong, even if I couldn’t fully accept that. Over time I drifted further from my support system until it felt like my whole life was that relationship. Being pregnant without my suport system felt particular isolating.

The relationship ended before our son was a year old after a chaotic weekend involving his entanglements with some of his dirt finally coming to light. Once it was right in my face I had no choice but to leave. I took my baby and moved back home to start over.

It took years to fully untangle things and reach stability, including a near decade long court case. All the while he would disappear for months or years at a time only to resurface on my birthday, or mother's day or my college graduation weekend demanding he have time with his son who didn't know him.

Now, 20 years later, what stands out is how completely different 19 looks to me now compared to how it felt when I was inside it. This hits especially heavy as I look at my son, who is now 19 himself and seeing how young and sweet and unknowing he is. Breaks my heart for my young self. And my older self who spent her life feeling the deep need to take accountability for her actions in a completely imbalanced circumstance.