Jennifer Msumba - Shouting At Leaves

Contents

Dedicated to my mom

Thank you for everything always

My protector

My first fan

My teacher

I love you the most-est.

And to my loyal and true people who

Set me free to be myself

And to live my best life.

Special thanks to: Jennie Ellis

Finally Home

5 years old, dirt under my nails,

Throwing rocks at the bullies saying, Youre not a girl!

Scared of my own shadow

I was in my own world.

Longing to be free from the trap in my mind,

Where the black hole of circles distorted the time.

But I fought with a champions heart,

determined to shine.

Days burn.

Years pass.

They say it gets worse before better.

Found my own path.

I wish I had seen this letter:

You will be strong.

You will be loved.

You will be a person

whose people are loyal and true.

Dont be scared, love!

Dont hide your face, in your hands.

Look to the sun

its where you belong

Keep moving on.

Learn more and follow Jennifers story:

YouTube (Vlog) https://www.youtube.com/c/jennifermsumba

YouTube (Jen Msumba Music) https://www.youtube.com/user/TheGiz24

Stream/Download Music: https://ffm.to/jennifermsumba

Website: https://www.jennifermsumba.com/

Instagram: @jennifermsumba

TikTok: @jennifermsumba

Copyright 2021 by Jennifer Msumba

Cover Designer & Illustrator: Aidan Wright

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any

form by any means, including photocopying, digital transmission, or

downloading without prior written permission from the author.

Printed in the United States.

Print ISBN: 978-1-09839-906-1

eBook ISBN: 978-1-09839-907-8

All names, except those of immediate family, have been changed to protect privacy.

All Bible quotations, unless otherwise noted, are from the Holy Bible, New International Version, NIV. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.

Websites and YouTube links can change so please approach any web content with caution. Though all links were thoroughly checked at the time of publication something may have been changed since then.

Chapter 1
It All Makes Sense Now

Mommy, todays gonna be a good day.

I walked with them down the hall slowly, as if I was walking to my death. Dead Jen walking! I thought to myself with some sort of dark humor, trying to keep the dread from taking over. My stomach was sick and my body was cold. I tried to muster up strength and bravery for whatever pain lay ahead.

We entered an empty classroom where there lay a four-point board in the middle. Nothing else. Even with the blinds wide open, sunlight refused to pour in, as if the day knew to be respectful of my impending doom. I didnt fight even though I knew something beyond terror was coming. I forced myself into a matter-of-fact calm. This was going to be bad. This was going to hurtbut I wasnt going to let them see my fear. I was not going to give them the satisfaction of knowing my terror. My life flashed before my eyes. How in the world did this become my reality?

*****

Mom and I walked hand in hand across the parking lot into the mall. The year was 1979 and I was three years old. The local mall was a happy, thriving shoppers destination. But for me it was a nightmare. Not five minutes into our trip, the floor beneath me began to shift and contort like a funhouse mirror. The items on the shelves had blended together into a swirly, whirly, blurry, enveloping fog. I felt like I was attempting to walk on an uneven surface that kept changing and morphing into new twists and dips. I tried to compensate and find my balance, but I couldnt see through the fog in front of me. I clung to my moms leg, terrified the floor would swallow me. I closed my eyes and waited desperately to get out of there.

What is wrong, Jenny? my mom asked as I tugged on her leg. But I did not have the words to answer her. Once we left the chaos and got into the open parking lot, the ground started to settle, and the air cleared. After around twenty minutes of riding in the car, I felt like myself again.

This was a regularly occurring episode for me.

In my mind I desperately wanted to tell my mom about the swirly, whirly colors and shape-shifting floor, but I didnt have the words. I was able to use words to express my needs and wants, but I had no words for my feelings. Especially ones as bizarre as these.

Looking back, its clear to me that my little brain and young sensory system couldnt handle the busyness of the mall. The diverse-colored items lining the shelves, the sound of the blenders at Orange Julius, along with the mixed smells of pizza and gyros coming from the food court were too much. The swarm of people, each one coming with his or her own smell, sound, and color were simply staggering. My senses, in turn, short-circuited and couldnt process the information I needed. To this day I still get overwhelmed in busy places; as an adult, however, I am able to understand why it is happening so I can manage it.

I was a happy and positive child. My mom recalls that every morning when she would wake me I would declare, Mommy, todays gonna be a good day. My optimistic spirit was there from the start. I would later fight to preserve this precious gift from God.

When I was three, my mom taught me to read simple books. I fell in love with words. I was insatiably eager to read and spell new words so I could keep up with my two older brothers. Words made sense because language came with a set of rules. If you followed these rules you could read and spell even more words! I loved rules and structure. They made me feel safe. In no time, I was trying to read everything I could get my hands on. I loved getting my brothers church magazines and circling every word I knew. I wouldnt cheat. I painstakingly circled only the words I could read, every the, and, but, and God I could find. Only words I knewthat was my rule.

This was just the beginning of the rules I would create for myself in an attempt to keep my world predictable.

During this same time, my older sister began attending the local high school. My mom and I would drop her off every morning. I looked forward to car rides. I loved to stare out the window, unfocus my eyes, and let the movement of the trees and houses relax my brain. The blur gave me a kind of high, as I would become super focused on a single point in the distance. I had a hard time looking away. I would go into another world and it was hard to bring myself back to the real one.

This was a starkand welcomecontrast to my everyday experience with the chaotic world. One particular day, a street sign that we had passed many times suddenly came into focus. I could read it: Not a Tough Street. What did it mean? Then it hit me and I shouted to my mom, Mommy, thats not a tough street! We can go down that street!

Being one to take things literally, Not a tough street meant to me that it was a safe street with no high school kids allowed. I was terrified of the high schoolers, who looked like thugs to me with their ripped jean jackets and cigarettes (this was the 1980s when students were allowed to smoke outside). I was so happy. The rules worked on Not-a-Tough-Street. My mom thought this was the cutest thing ever, but being a teacher and lover of words, she corrected me. She explained the sign actually read Not a Through Street, which had a totally different meaning. She congratulated me on my close attempt, and that became a story we enjoy to this day. I found a way to tell my mom my feelings through a misreading of a sign. What a gift!