Staples Sonya - From Prison to Promise

Copyright April 2020

This book may not be reprinted or distributed without the express permission of the publisher. All rights reserved to the author.

Publisher: VOG Publishing

Over the years, life has thrown me many curve balls. But through it all, I learned the lessons they aimed to teach. I want to dedicate this book to everyone who holds a special place in my heart.

To God, I THANK YOU! To my parents Donna Clay and Ervin Hart Jr and my late grandparents Merrix and Willie Mae Wilson, thank you for shaping my foundation and loving me through the good and the bad. Things havent been perfect with us, but we have grown through the tough times and for that I am grateful. To my children for always having my back and making me feel like the best mother in the world.

Finally, my wonderful loving husband. Jonathan, YOU ARE MY WORLD. Thank you for loving me through my darkest times. You inspire me to keep pushing. I LOVE YOU ALL.

Hearing those words after so many years of separating myself from him cut me deep. I never considered his feelings. I knew I was at my breaking point. Life alone was not easy and living life without him proved to be much harder. When this journey started, I determined to be all in! I was going to be a ride or die chick who stood by her man. Things started crumbling fast, and I had no idea what to do.

We were only teens when our story began, he was 17, and I was 16. Two young souls were doing adult things, two diverse backgrounds, two different paths, the SAME PAIN. I had no idea when we met our lives would take the turn it did. But looking back, everything we lived through was necessary.

It's only right for me to start from the beginning, my story. I was born in 1979 to a young mother and a drug-dealing and drug-using father. My grandparents on my mother's side knew my parents were not ready for a child. They had issues of their own, trying to live life. So, my grandparents stepped in to raise me. I lived in a house in a good neighborhood, with a woman and a man raising me. My grandfather worked and provided for the entire household, and my grandmother kept house and made sure things stayed in order. Not to mention the fact that I rarely had to ask for anything. If I did what they expected of me, they rewarded me double. I couldn't ask for anything better.

My grandparents were awesome. They showed up at all my recitals, organized great birthday parties, and exposed me to things my schoolmates were not doing. I can remember fishing trips with them, me being too scared to bait the hook and my grandfather would step in. I was also afraid to take the fish off the hook, but they made such a big deal of me holding the line and reeling in my catch, I thought I was the best! That's what life was like for me. Making a big deal over the little things and yet providing a strong foundation to shape me into a responsible adult. I would spend time with my mom, as well. My dad stayed in and out of prison and rehab. But I was so used to the comfort and safety at my grandparents' house, so I chose to stay there.

My grandparents were the glue to the family. They made sure we held firm to our family ties despite who messed up. They also adopted a lot of people into the family, which made holidays and cookouts that much more enjoyable. Those were perfect times. As I started to get older, so did my grandparents, of course. My mother started a relationship with a man who would soon become my sister's father. I did not like this guy at all. I was supposed to be the center of attention on our weekends. But with him being there, that wasn't the case. In my eyes, he was a jerk, and I just dealt with him through the weekend; then it was back to life.

One day, he and my mom came to my grandmother's house with the news. My mom told me she was pregnant. I didn't like it at all. How dare she have another child? Back then, I didn't see myself being spoiled or downright selfish. I just knew another baby was going to be weird.

I never really spoke about my feelings about a lot of things because I didn't believe I had the strength to do so. One day I had a friend over, and we were outside playing. She started to sing a song, and the words touched me so much I broke into tears. My grandmother asked, "Sonya, what's wrong?" "I want my mama!" I screamed. My grandmother had never raised her voice at me until I said those words. "After everything we have done for you! How dare you say that to me?" Her words crushed my heart. I didn't want to discount anything they had done. I lived a great life, but I still wanted and needed my parents. What child doesn't?

I started to pack my feelings inside. I didn't like to hurt anyone's feelings, and I couldn't articulate words accurately enough to express my point. That's where the sadness began.

My sister was born in 1988. The feelings were bizarre because as much as I despised her coming, I was excited. She promoted me to a big sister! This sense of protection overcame me when I first laid eyes on her, and the resentment fell in the shadows. When my mom brought her home, I still lived with my grandparents, and I visited on the weekends. Thinking back, that may have been enough time for me. I loved my sister, but I also loved being the "only "kid.

After about two and a half years, my haven disappeared. My father came home from prison with addiction in tow. My mom stopped dealing with my sisters' father. Before I knew it, she was back with my dad, and we were on our way to family life. I moved with my mom, dad, and sister. Life began to change. I was going through puberty, and I had difficulty adjusting to life with my parents. Life, in my eyes, started to fall apart. I attempted suicide, and I ran away. I lied, stole, and smoked weed, a complete turnaround from life at the Grands. It came to the point that there were so many problems, I couldn't identify them. I knew I didn't love myself, and I was comfortable with existing in a dark place. It seemed like it would never end. But God had a plan.

It was 1995 when I met him. I sat on the bleachers in an almost empty gymnasium, barely watching a rec basketball game. To this day, I have no idea why I was there. I wasn't interested in the game at all. I had my little sister with me, so my attention was focused more on her than watching the game. I did notice that I had eyes on me from across the court. It sounds like some mushy fairy-tale crap, but it's the truth.

When I made eye contact, my face didn't do a good job hiding the thought going through my mind, "Why the hell is he staring at me like that? Before the idea stopped, he started walking over. "Excuse me, how are you doing? Can I talk to you?"

"I'm good, what's up?" I said with my face still screwed.

He extended his hand. "My name is Jay Jay, what's yours?

Before I answered, my sister yells, "I know him, sister! He is always at the club handing out money!" That statement put a thought in my head!

His palms were sweaty. He was nervous, so that made him kind of cute. I gave him my name, and we talked for a few. I had a screw face the entire conversation, so you can imagine how intimidating that was to this dude. Guys like him didn't usually approach me. He was very light-skinned; not my type at all! I went with the flow for the moment until I decided to leave. I thought he would take that as a hint until he followed me to my car.