DeAmontay's Darkness Deliverance Scholarship

“You have food, water, and a roof over your head. There’s no reason to complain when there are people who have less.” These are the words of a single mother trying to make ends meet for her 3 fatherless kids. As a child, I wanted what everyone else had. I desired the blue and pink twinkle toes and I yearned for the la la loopsy dolls. Most importantly, I craved the mom my friends always told me about. The mom that would hang out with them and talk for hours. I mourned the mom that would comfort me when I cried over the most ridiculous things. But, she did sacrifice everything for me and my sisters and I adore her for that. I’ve never gone without anything essential. She worked for everything she has today and I aspire to be that determined. But, even with her giving me all she could, I still yearned for what I heard about. “The perfect mom”. Everyone has their ups and downs but, the downs severed the ups. Maybe I’m just being dramatic or perhaps it’s just middle-child syndrome only God truly knows. But honestly, I’ve been bullied throughout my childhood and into my teens. Everyone remembers their first bully. Whether it was Sally or John who would push them at recess or say rude remarks. For me my mom was mine. She’d religiously comment on my weight because I was slender and lanky. I'd look at myself and destroy my own confidence. The hot pink mirror covered in monster-high stickers that stared at me can contest. The words “bony bitch” would come out of her mouth whenever I angered her. I often think back to what was the cause of all of this. I came to the conclusion that she was fighting an internal battle with herself. She has never officially opened up to me about what has hurt her. But nosy 11-year-old Leeah would creep outside her door and listen intently to her conversations about my father. I’ve never really known this man, so any information I was quick to listen to. She would tell all these stories of what he’s done to her physically and mentally. I was always told that I looked like my father by family, imagine that. I’d never want to remind my mother of someone who hurt her so intensely. But on the contrary, she’d do what he did to her to me. Quarantine came and I was stuck home with three troublesome siblings. Aiding to bandage calls and sippy cup refills. Running back and forth from computer to computer trying to help two people, myself, and make sure a third is entertained. My mom was an essential worker. She was never home and when she was I wished she would go back to work. I reflected intently on my situation and how I should never let a person make me feel like that. It took some time and personal growth but, I no longer dwelled on my circumstance. I used it to encourage myself to do better. All while maintaining 3 catty sisters I was able to fall in love with meditation and journaling. I found Christianity on my own with the help of my friends, coming from a nonreligious family. I’ve changed my mindset to something I can’t even fathom. I don’t look at my mom as malicious. I see someone who is deeply hurting and needs help from someone willing. I want to help her but also many others who need it as well. I want to pursue psychiatric nursing.