Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Alonese W. Crets is an Executive Director and Founder of Regent Teen Center. In this role, Alonese looks after/coordinates/manages/leads a team providing all aspects of sustenance, including mentorship and positive social development of minors and is a big believer in leading by example.Alonese has donated numerous copies of "Secrets" Through Her Eyes to underprivileged women, women social groups, and disadvantaged men. Alonese has also encouraged many disadvantaged people by speaking in group settings.

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"Secrets" Through Her Eyes

AuthorHouse

Chapter One

Growing up, I didn't know the decisions I made resulted from the void in my heart. I always felt like something was missing. I was clingy to men in ways that would be questionable to others looking at me. I always wanted a man's attention and once I received his attention, I cherished what we had between us. I put the man on a pedestal.

I did not care who he was, just that he showed me some attention. In my eyes, he was capable of doing no wrong.

I remember my uncle, who appeared to be happily married, bringing over to our house a younger woman that he said was his co-worker. He was always with this woman and they were always so secretive. I thought nothing of it until I heard mother on the phone talking to someone, telling the person on the other end of the receiver that the woman was more than my uncle's co-worker. She expressed to that person that he should be ashamed of himself for bringing her around the house all the time. I then began to wonder, at my young age, what my mother meant when she said that woman was more than a co- worker to him. After several times of seeing my uncle and his "co-worker" over at the house eating and talking, I did not see the woman anymore, but I heard a conversation about how my uncle got hurt by this woman and no longer was meeting with her. I never saw that woman again.

Later, I found out and understood that conversation my mother was having over the phone. Even after understanding it in my teenage years, I did not think my own uncle did anything wrong and it was all the woman's fault for the reason he had gotten into trouble at his job. To this day, I still do not see the wrong in my uncle.

I remember craving for the attention of my father. I always wanted to be around him. When he was not around or had other things to do without me, I waited eagerly for him to return. It did not matter what time it was. I waited just so he could say goodnight and tell me he loved me. He made me feel special and let me know that I was his little girl. So what happened to me? Why was everything so screwed up for me? Throughout my adolescent years, I remember feeling lonely and wanting the love of a boy or man; it did not matter to me. If my father, uncle, neighbor's dad or neighborhood boys or boys from school showed me any attention it went right to my head.

I thought at some point in my life, when a boy said that he liked or loved me that it was filling that void and that was good enough for me. I did not know that love had to be shown and proved not only spoken. I learned the hard way, very early in life, what it meant to not have a father in my life. I learned very early in life the disadvantages of not having a father in my life were. I also learned very early in life how to take advantage of others and let others take advantage of me. Most of all I learned that I was lacking the one thing that was needed most in my life, genuine love.

My story goes as this one; I was a little girl searching for love in the wrong places. I wanted the feeling of being secure and loved by the opposite sex. It is true what they say about young girls who grow up without a father. Those girls are usually the ones who end up with; the woman beater, the mental abuser, the drug addict, the drug dealer, the gang bangers, the man with multiple children by multiple women, the high school drop-out, the loser who talks a good game, but still stays with his parents, the one who depends on the woman to take care of him as his mother would do and/or the manipulator.

Those girls also become statistics in their society by being battered women, high school drop-outs, addicted to drugs, having multiple children by multiple men at young ages, strippers, streetwalkers with pimps, believing that it's okay for the man to manipulate their mind by taking care of the man, swift women in the streets, careless women, disrespectful and disrespected women, gang bangers or your everyday girl next door who every dude on the block comes to visit frequently. It was a vicious cycle and it proved to be continuous. Those girls were all looking for one thing and that was the love that was missing from their lives as a child.

My story is repetitive at times and wordy at other times, but it hits home for that girl looking for love in the wrong place. It hits home for the girl who grew up thinking she was all by herself in the world. It hits home for the girl who cried herself to sleep every night, wishing she just had someone to talk too. It really hits home for the grown woman reflecting on her life and finally realizing she has overcome the obstacles in her life, yes, she did some things she is not proud of, but being the woman she is today, she would not change any of those obstacles she had to overcome to get to where she's standing.

Listen closely to "running scared" thru her eyes, for you will hear my familiar yet distinguished cry.

Chapter Two

It started when I was a little girl. Who would have thought the old wives tale was correct; a girl missing her father will look for love in all the wrong ways? Well, I was that girl. I wanted the comfort of any guy then. I did almost anything for the attention. I was a little girl craving for the attention of the opposite sex. Let me start there.

At the age of seven, I lost my biological father to someone else's hands. Being I was so young, I was protected from all the details then. I remember my mother trying to protect me so much that she moved away from the only surroundings and family I knew of. I did not see that family again until I was a little older. I remember traveling halfway across the country with my great grandmother and mother. They made our final destination in a town that I later discovered would leave a bad taste in my mouth. We moved into an apartment complex that was suitable for just us three. I remember vaguely attending a school in which I was bullied by another little girl (cannot recall her name) who ended up pushing me and making me hit my mouth on the back of a chair. It was an older model chair made of pure metal and what felt like granite. It hurt like hell. I yelled hysterically because I was in so much pain. After the principal called my mother, she had me lie on a cot next to her. The blood was ridiculous, my lip was swollen and I chipped my front tooth. Imagine that. I do not quite remember what happened thereafter. I was made to return to that school and the girl who bullied me continued to attend.

A while later, I remember a little girl my age coming to stay with my mother, grandmother and I for a while. She was my cousin from Detroit. I do not know why she came to stay or even how long she stayed. I just remember her being there with me for a while. We got to know each other as young children would. We played hard and fought. We got all of our whippings together and took all our baths together. We took Christmas pictures and had to sleep together in the same bed.

Christmas was exceptionally fun this year, which is the first Christmas I can remember as a child because my cousin and I both received many things. I don't remember what all we received; I just remember being happy that day. I also remember meeting him for the first time. He stood bright-skinned,...