My name is Jennifer , I was born in Ontario. My birthday is November
5th, 1976. I was a colic baby when I was born. It took my aunt and grandmothers help to take care of
me. I never had a bond with my mother, nor did she not want me. She wanted a boy. And my father
was really never around, he spent his time as an alcoholic. The bond I have is with my grandmother. I
have spent so much time with her over the years I was growing up.
I do not recall much of my childhood or my life growing up. What I do know is things that my
grandmother keep telling me over and over in hope that it will bring back memories and stick in my
I am going to skip over my childhood and start when I was twelve years old. My mother asked
me to go to the store for her. I jumped on my bike and headed to the store. I stopped at the highway,
looked both ways, and then proceeded across the road. As I was riding my bike across the road a
intoxicated driver, driving a full size truck hit me and my bike. I flew half a mile and my coat caught
on fire from the friction from the highway. Just before I got to the hospital, I left my body. The doctors
took twenty minutes to revise me. I spent three month in a coma. While I was in a coma my small
community of fifty people raised five thousand dollars for my mother to stay in a motel close to the
hospital. When I awoke from the coma, I was lost scared and could not speak. My mother was told
that it is a miracle that I came out of the coma, but I would never be the same and probably would
never be able to walk again.
I had to learn how to eat on my own again; Had to learn how to speak all over again. After I
was able to eat and speak again they started me on physio therapy. Then they put me in a wheelchair. I
knew I had to gain the strength and the determination to get out of the wheelchair. After a month of
sitting in a wheelchair I was tiered. I wanted out of the chair, I wanted to walk again, I wanted to run
again. I slowly began walking behind a chair, then moved up and started walking behind the
wheelchair. Eventually I was able to walk on my own, and go back home. This process took almost
two years out of my life. But I was glad to be alive.
My community, the nurses, the doctors and my family really opened my eyes, and all pulled
together to help me. If it was not for them I would not be here today.
About two years after the accident I was sexually molested by my step father. I tried telling my
mother what has happened. She refused to believe me and said I was lying, and never to speak like that
again. At the time I was scared and embarrassed to tell anyone what had happened. I could not even
face my friends and most of all I could not face my grandmother. It was very hard to deal with. But I
knew I had to keep moving forward and try to forget all about it.
Many years latter I met a guy. It felt like love at first sight. Everything between us was perfect.
Two years after we were together, he started to hit me. It started as just slapping then it turned into
punching, pushing and choking. I was constantly making excuses for him and excuses for the bruises
and black and blue eyes. I though and was hoping he would change and things would go back to the
way they were.
The third year we were together I ended up getting pregnant on a birth control pill. The abuse
stopped while I was pregnant, and thought he had changed. After I had my son the abuse came back,
and more constant. It became a routine to me. I knew he would physically abuse me at least once a
month. I did not leave him for if I did he told me he would kill me, and I really did believe he would
of. He never did hit or hurt me in front of the kids. About seven years latter I finally left him and...
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