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A Star Is Born
They say to truly cleanse your soul, you first have to expose every forbidden sin. Most prefer to continue through life neverrevealing the dark roads they’ve traveled. But I’ve chosen to share my journey. Let me start from the beginning, and tellyou about my Dirty Little Secrets.
I was born August 3, 1980, in Atlanta, Georgia. According to my mother, I had a head full of jet-black curly hair and wassweet and juicy. In her eyes, I was perfect. She tied a stunning pink bow in my hair, of course. I’m sure all parents thinktheir newborn is the most beautiful baby in the world, and Mother was no different. When I was three, she said, “Darling,when you grow up you’re going to be famous. That’s why I named you Tyler Blake—because it’s a movie star’s name, and you wereborn ready for your cover shot.”
Mother would sit on the bed brushing my hair and lovinglytell me, “Tyler, you are everything I dreamed you would be— and more. You’re my little princess, and one day a lucky man willmake you his queen.” Mother figured that if I didn’t become famous, then surely some rich man would come and sweep me offmy feet. Little did she know that my world would be turned upside down, searching for a man who would make me his queen.
I spent hours studying Mother as she brushed her long black wavy hair or applied makeup to her angelic face. Would I growup to be as beautiful? I wondered. One morning Mother saw me admiring her in her vanity mirror; she smiled and said, “Observeand learn, Tyler, because when you blossom into a woman, you will meet a man who will promise you the stars, but you mustalso demand the moon. You’re my little princess, and you can’t accept any less.” It seemed Mother instilled this notion inme from the day I was born.
My sister Ella and I created a make-believe world, which we called Barbie Land. I would make up the most glamorous storiesand act them out with our Barbie dolls. They had big houses, cars, and designer clothes. I would dress them in fabulous beadedgowns, adorn them with sparkling jewelry, and comb their hair in seductive styles. Barbie lived a jet-set life, and Motherpromised that one day, so would I.
That life, however, was somewhat hard for me to imagine when I scrutinized myself in the mirror. I never felt beautiful likemy dolls. They were slender; I was chubby. They had long flowing hair, and although my hair was long, I wore it in a pigtail.But my dolls still inspired me. Along with the encouragement of Mother, they gave me hope that one day I would be transformedinto a dazzling diva and live the glamorous life. Mother was determined to guarantee that for me, my sister, and herself.She even enrolled me in a children’s theater group because she knewhow much I loved acting out the stories I made up. Mother thought participating in plays would give me a platform on whichto dress up and express my theatrical side. I remember how thrilled I was when I got the part of Cinderella. Mother let mewear my hair in Shirley Temple curls, and I wore a long pink dress. I even wore a tiara. When I performed onstage, it wasas if I had left my body and become a different person. Mother said I looked like a real-life princess and that one day thatlife would be mine.
That life would be a far cry from the one I was living. It was obvious to Ella and me that our parents were married in nameonly. Mother was so cold and distant toward our daddy. She constantly complained about how hard she had to work to providefor the family and that he had no ambition, no goals. Daddy was content with our modest house on a tree-lined street, onefamily car, and nonexistent family vacations. Daddy’s idea of a vacation was for all of us to go to the local park for a picnicof Mother’s special barbecue chicken with potato salad and corn on the cob. He definitely had no desire to lounge on an exoticisland, as Mother dreamed of doing. Like Mother, I too yearned for so much more.
As time passed, Mother’s frustrations began to build. One night I woke up to the sounds of Mother and Daddy arguing. “I’mso tired of coming home and seeing you sitting on the couch doing nothing! Why don’t you get a job?” Mother yelled.
“I have a job; business is slow right now,” Daddy explained.
“Business is always slow. This isn’t the life you promised me, Carter. You told me you were going to have your own businessand make a lot of money. What happened to the big house, the cars, the furs? I would’ve been better off staying at Saks, workingbehind the makeup counter.”
“Maria, I’ve done the best I can. Things just didn’t work out the way I wanted them to. But I love you so much, and we havetwo beautiful daughters.”
“Ella and Tyler are the only good things that came out of this marriage. Love don’t pay no bills, Carter. But I will not staytrapped in this depressing life. I deserve more than this and, more importantly, so do my girls.” That night I had a clearerunderstanding of why Mother was always so angry at Daddy. Mother felt Daddy had deceived her.
One evening, Mother came home late for the third night in a row. My daddy was waiting in his favorite chair, with a glassof Johnnie Walker in one hand and the remote control in the other. Ella and I knew the moment Mother walked through the doorbecause the loud screams woke us. We jumped out of our twin beds and ran to the top of the stairs. Daddy rambled toward thefront door and began yelling with a drunken slur, “I know you been with that man again! Don’t lie to me, woman!”
Mother marched toward the kitchen, ignoring Daddy as if she didn’t even see him. Her blatant disrespect pushed Daddy overthe edge, and he lunged at Mother. “Maria, don’t you walk away from me! I’m the man of this house, and you better treat mewith respect!” Then Daddy grabbed Mother.
My heart sank when I heard Daddy speak those words. I knew Mother didn’t respect him, and if anybody was the head of the household,it was her. Daddy was a self-employed plumber, making little money, but we lived in a middle-class suburban neighborhood witha house full of brand-new furniture and a big color television. Mother even managed to get us a brand-new car after Daddy’sold hoopty kept breaking down. Ella and I never questioned where all the money came from, because Mother would always say,“No matter what, only the best for my two girls.”
All of a sudden Daddy was on top of Mother, his hands around her neck, choking her. Ella and I remained frozen as Mother kickedher legs and tried to pry Daddy’s fingers from her throat. “You think I don’t know about that man you been seeing?” he saidbetween clenched teeth. “You ain’t nothin’ but a whore. Sashaying out this house in your fancy new dresses and expensive perfumeyou bought with money you got from that man. I’m gonna choke the devil right out of you, do you hear me!”
I felt like I was watching a bad movie, and I desperately wanted to change the channel. But this was real life. My daddy wasmurdering my mother right before my eyes. I had never known Daddy to be violent, and his behavior was sending chills downmy spine. As I sat there with my hands clutching the banister, I heard Ella whisper, “You stay here, Tyler. I’m going to saveMother.” Five years older, Ella always felt the need to protect me. Normally she was shielding me from bullying kids in theneighborhood. Tonight it was from our daddy. She ran downstairs and picked up the glass vase Mother had bought in a localantique store. I screamed as it shattered and blood spilled from Daddy’s head. He lay on the hardwood floor looking dazedand confused.
Mother gasped for air as Ella held her.
Later that night, as Mother packed up our clothes and whatever belongings could fit in the car, Daddy begged her to stay.“Maria, Maria, please don’t leave me, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll never put my hands on you again. I love you, Maria. You’re mylife.” His cries fell on deaf ears.
When Mother made up her mind about something, she didn’t look back. Daddy had been wrong for trying to kill Mother, but Istill loved him and I hated to leave. Despite his sometimes drunken behavior, Daddy was the kindest man I ever met. He alwaysbelieved in being fair, and my friends loved himbecause he thought all kids should be treated equally. If I had a new doll and didn’t want to share it with my friends, hewould sit me on his lap and say, “Tyler, sharing is the most rewarding gift you can give someone. If you don’t learn to share,how will you ever appreciate all your blessings?” I never forgot those words, and I reflected on them every time I wantedto keep something all for myself.
As we drove off, Mother looked at Ella and me. “If a man hits you once,” she said, “he will hit you for the rest of your lifeunless you decide to end his—or he decides to end yours. I want to live and I want your father to live, so we will never comeback to this house again.”
From the backseat I waved good-bye to Daddy and watched him as he chased after the car, still sobbing and begging for Motherto come back. That night we stayed at a hotel, and I cried myself to sleep. I couldn’t believe that Daddy was gone and I wouldnever see him again.
The next morning I heard Mother on the phone talking sweet to somebody. Before she hung up, she said, “I love you, too.” Fora brief hopeful moment I imagined that she was going to give Daddy another chance, but that illusion was quickly shattered.Mother turned to us, her face glowing and her eyes sparkling, and said, “Ella and Tyler, today you are going to meet yournew daddy.”
Copyright © 2006 by Joy King
