I never had anyone tell me anything about my life and what to expect being a woman. I only had myself, my grandmother and God to help me along the way. Of course I had other family members but they were not around. They all thought that I was a waste of time a nuisance, a rotten apple.

Even though they still provided me with shelter I always felt alone. I’m not your average 18 year old woman, I was born HIV positive my mother was a heroin addict. I couldn’t tell you who my father was and neither could any of my family members.

My mother died of an overdose when I was 7 and that is when my grandmother took me into her home. She ran a really good Fayetteville roofing company all her life and was hoping to retire soon. I was already diagnosed with HIV and before my mother passed she never took care of me or my health. My grandmother was strong and she made sure my health was on point and made sure I had all my medications and went to every appointment. I felt normal and comfortable, but there was still something that was troubling me about my family that I couldn’t put my finger on.

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