My mother was born in 1934 and my father in 1926 in West Africa. Both my parents were abused early in their lives and carried these heavy wounds through their entire life. No matter how powerful and honorable of a position in life they achieved or attained, their psychological and emotional scars still marked their behavior their entire lives. We, their children, are the product of this. We are the wounded children of wounded children. So, it came to pass that two proud, but wounded parents started having a family. Raising us, their children, up in an environment that impacted us all.

As a result of this environment, even though I had both my parents living with me together, it was a very dysfunctional situation and not a happy or safe childhood at all.

I was hurting and at the mercy of other people that did not have a good heart or spirit and their intentions towards me were very manipulative and evil. These were things that children with both parents around them should not have to endure. But my parents, even though physically present most of the time were not emotionally available to me for nurturing and protection because they were lost in their own problems.

All that a parent can give you is all that they have. The problem is, as a parent, we are giving to our children a generational cycle of what we experienced as a child. Particularly if we are never healed from our own childhood wounds.