that person happened to be a family member for me. I’m not saying that she sent someone after me to bring back
my heart, but I assure you, she definitely thought about it. Did my shoulder pop out accidentally as a toddler?
Who’s to say with no witnesses around.
I grew up in a similar environment as Snow White; one that poisoned me for many years. Now, before you get the
wrong idea, at no point in my life has anyone tried to hunt me down. So, let’s not get carried away. Though I’m
sure that the thought crossed her mind, she has yet to hire someone to kill me. To my own dismay, I spent half my
life trying to gain her love and approval because I think everyone enjoys good relationships with family members.
I learned about bitterness long before I knew what it meant. At a young age, I was forced to learn survival. With-
out it, I would have suffered under her heated gaze of hate.
F or anyone that knows me really well, you already know who this person is; but, for the sake of this book, we will
refer to her as Miss B(itch). Now, to say that Miss B and I didn’t get along would be the understatement of the year.
And before you say it, this wasn’t just a classic case of family members annoying each other; half the time I don’t
know why we were even fighting. Miss B had a deep-rooted hatred for me from the time I could walk, for reasons
attributed to my father. There was a period of time when I had to suspect that whenever she saw me, she was
reminded of my father. Instead of seeing me as a survivor of the same situation that we were all in, she hated the
sight of me and chose to punish me. She did this because I was his spawn.
I strongly believe that she hated me because I was a representation of my father. I have three other siblings and
I’m the odd man out. I have a different father than the rest of them; he was a shade of evil that probably affected
lives of my family members more than it ever did mine. You see, my mother left my father when I was six months
old. I was never around to see who he really was; I only know the stories that were told to me.
iss B has never been able to explain why she hates me so strongly, even though I’ve never done anything to
M
her. There is about a ten-year age difference between us, so there were times when she was in charge of caring
for me; however, I was often unwelcomed in her presence. Growing up, I spent a lot of time trying to gain her
approval and always coming up short. It’s hard for a young kid to understand why a member of her own family
won’t love her. Even though we fought badly for years, I kept trying to be a part of her life. That hurt me more than
I would like to admit. It was obvious I would never be welcome in her life. She would never be proud of me, nor
tell me that she loved me.
I have been a ghostwriter for fifteen years; I've written 20 books for clients
and thousands of articles. I spend my days writing, trying not to get sucked in
by my Facebook notifications or get into the whiskey decanter (just kidding...
kinda). I have published a memoir, You Taste Like Whiskey and Sunshine and
just finished my second crime thriller novel.
I’m obsessed with dinosaur movies and am completely enamored with the life
of a vampire, as immortality would sure help me achieve my bucket list.
I was raised in Sault Ste. Marie but have spent the past 15 years in Windsor,
Ontario.
Kimberly Love
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kimmilove.com