Another Untitled

Have you ever heard of a “generational curse”? If not, it’s when you are punished for sins or wrongs that someone from your past has committed. I swear that I am a victim. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. My life is in constant turmoil. If nothing is going wrong in my life, hell, I get scared.
At the age of 37, you would think that I would have some type of order in my life, right? Well, I don’t. And please don’t judge me. I do that enough for myself. Don’t get me wrong, I am an educated women but I make stupid mistakes that seem to follow me, no matter what. My aunt used to say, “Girl, you so smart you ain’t got no common sense”. She must’ve known what she was talking bout ‘cause this life of mine is one h.a.m. (hot ass mess).
My name is Sia. My mama wanted my name to start with an “S” like my deadbeat dad’s. She was so in love with Shaun Cedric Porter. However, she couldn’t name me La Shauna or Shia because those names were taken by two of his other five illegitimate children.
This man, Shaun Porter, my sperm donor, was married to my mama but had three other baby mamas. Of the five, only one was before they were married. The other four were during the course of their marriage. Believe it or not, I had to go though therapy because of this. But I had to learn that that wasn’t my problem to deal with, it was my mama’s. She allowed him to treat her that way, so what could I do? Sometimes he would stay away from home for days and weeks at a time. It didn’t matter when he came home, she always took him back. Yeah, they would fuss and fight but he knew what to do and say to her. She was a fool for him.
She was the nicest, soft- spoken person. Everyone loved my mama. All of my friends would want to spend the night over my house because my mama would let us do whatever their parents wouldn’t let us do.
I remember the day my Uncle Charles came running in the house to tell us that Shana and Shaunte’s mama had stabbed and killed him at the pool hall. I was 10. I remember vividly, my mama in a white dress with light blue flowers in it, fall to the floor of our living room and cry like her whole world had ended. I just sat here looking at her. I didn’t understand. It was at that time that I thought, “Daddy must have diamonds on his dick. One woman stabbing him and the other crying like there was no tomorrow. That was good for his dirty ass. “

For about two years after the sperm donor died, my mom was like a zombie. She wouldn’t talk to any man. If I even mentioned her going out and meeting someone, she would say, “Girl, Shaun would roll over in that grave if he even thought I was with another man”. I would look at her like, “What? Are you serious?” But I guess love is blind.
When I was in middle school, mama met a man named Chauncey. I liked Chauncey. He treated mama real nice. Mama was even back to her old’ self, laughing, talking on the phone with her sisters and girlfriends. Then, I be damned, if Chauncey didn’t start with the same shit as my daddy. Chauncey took it to another level, though. Chauncey was attractive. I could understand women wanting him.

As many hoes as my daddy had, none of them ever disrespected mama. She knew about them from people in the street, her family, etc. but my daddy never let her see them together. That was one of his favorite alibis. “Did YOU see me with her? Okay when YOU see me with her let me know. I don’t want to hear no he say- she say bullshit.”
Chauncey, on the other hand, had his hoes pick him up right in front of the house. I have been embarrasses by that on several occasions. I would be outside with my friends and some tramp pulls up to our house and he jumps in the car, like its all good. The only good thing about it was that he would always give me $20 or $40 as he got in the car. I guess it was hush money. “Baby girl, go get you and your friends something to eat or something”, Chauncey would say and then jump in the car with another woman while my mama peeked through the blinds.
On several occasions, I’ve overheard my mama crying when Chauncey didn’t come home. It broke my heart. Chauncey eventually left. Again for a long time, my mama’s only man was the Lord. Work and church were really the only places she went.
Right before I graduated high school, my mama met and married the best man in the world, Paul. Paul was a pastor from Cleveland, Ohio. God sent him to my mama. I was more than relieved when he married her and moved her to Ohio. He treated here like a queen. He called her his “Queen” and I was his “Princess”. He had to quit her j ob and had someone hired to take care of all of her needs. Everyone loved the “First lady” in Cleveland. Mama was finally truly happy and being treated the way she deserved to be. A few years later she fell sick and shortly died. Paul truly loved her. He stayed by her side the whole time. She was waited on hand and foot until the day she died.
That was ten years ago.
I had always said that I don’t want to be like her. I wouldn’t let any man treat me the way that she allowed men to treat her. Unfortunately, it didn’t work like that. So now I’m back to the generational curse thing. I have my mama’s vulnerable, soft ways. I admit it. I allow people, not just men, treat me any kind of way and just keep smiling through it all. But here’s the kicker: I have my daddy’s whorish ways.