Becoming a parent at the tender age of sixteen was one of the scariest decisions I made. Of course, I would love to say that when this decision was made, I had a solid foundation and was prepared to be the best mother I could be, but that is not the case. Nia’s dad and I were thrilled when we found out we had a baby coming, but two children ages sixteen and seventeen were far from ready to be parents. It was the love of our daughter that kept us going, even after we split and did that thang, we all know as co-parenting.
A bit off-topic, but if you’re reading this and you’re a single parent, co-parent the best way you know how (if that option is available). It’s not about you, take yourself and your emotions out of it. Children don’t care who did what to who, they want access to both parents. It helps with their development.
Now that my daughter is seventeen (past the age I had her) it’s as if a new era has begun, and I’m proud to say that at seventeen, one of the greatest things my daughter created and still creates is great artwork. Not to mention she’s a phenomenal writer. I’m proud of her and the young lady she’s becoming.
Being a parent for most of my life has left me little time to get to know myself. I know I love to write, I’ve kept a journal and always had a wild imagination (hence the title of my first novel). I also love the art of business. Yes, there’s an art to business… there’s an art to anything and everything that strikes your passion. My point is everything happens the way it’s supposed to. I’m enjoying getting to know myself, even if it is seventeen years later.
