User:RebekahNunn/Rebekah Nunn



I was born in Sarasota, Florida as Kiecia Rebekah Taylor Watkins. And, I lived with my biological, mother, Tracie Watkins for a few years, before I was adopted by Don and Carole Nunn.. Obviously, I do not remember any of this.. And around the age of 5, I never remembered what my biological mother was like.. Until, one day, she came over for a visit and decided that she wanted me back; she wanted to take me away.

This is where I suffer from wanting to be wanted. I've never really suffered abandonment, but I lost so much trust in Don and Carole, because these were the people I thought would protect me. Who would secure me.

Legally, Tracie could do so, because this was the day that I found out, Don and Carole had not taken full custody of me. And for years, I called these people my Mom and Dad, when I was never legally their child. I remember as I was leaving, and Tracie gathering my belongings, how everybody was inviting sadness to fall upon the situation. I didn't know why my family was crying, but it caused me to cry, as well. Even though Don and Carole were not my bio-parents, I still felt loved by them. But this doesn't mean that I felt wanted, by them. -I don't know. I was complicated, even then.- As, I was crying, I was yelling, I was frustrated "Mom, why are you letting her take me away? Why? Please, don't let her take me away." But, she didn't have a choice. It was so hard to be taken away from people that you KNOW Love you.. To this day, I still never understood why they didn't fight for me, right then and there.. I got into the car, looked out the back window, tears running down my face. And the last thing Carole remembered, was me giving her the phrase, "I love you" in sign language. -It resembles the "rock on" sign, but your thumb isn't in an outer position.- The whole drive to Tracie's house, I would constantly and repetitively keep asking her, "Why are you taking me away?-Why can't I go home?-Why can't I be with my Family?-Why are you taking me away?" I do not remember her responses, exactly, but it was along the lines of "You are my daughter, Kiesha. And, I love you. You're coming back home with me now." The whole way, my mind was racing. I didn't know what was going on, even though I could see, clearly, what was happening. I wanted to be with Don and Carole. I wanted to be with that family. My Family. I just wanted to go back Home.

We're driving in Tracies neighborhood; There's trash everywhere. Trailers, Dark alleys, Pitbulls.. Men walking with their shirts off, pants hanging low, and women in high heels, pregnant. We pull into her yard.. I step out of the car. It smells like dirt or clay, everywhere. There's people talking, and laughing across the streets. Kids running around. Dogs, everywhere. And beer all over the place. Tracie says, "Come on, let's head in side." She unlocks the door.. The minute I stepped into the house, which was the kitchen room, she turned on the light, roaches fled from the middle of the floor, and to the nooks and crannies of that house. It smelt old, in here. It smelt rotten. And it didn't look put together, as the rest of the neighborhood didn't, either. I have my bags in my hands, and I walk into the middle of the kitchen. Tracie walks off into the living room to put things down, and then walks back through the kitchen, and over to the opposing room,.. She said, "Kiesha, this is where you're staying.." I walk into the room, and put my bags down. She's presenting the rest of the house to me. Through this storage room, the bathroom lies. Then, back through the kitchen, into the living room, and into her bedroom. The house, SORT OF, became decent by this time, but I couldn't call it MY home..

Every single day, that I woke up, went to school, and came back home. Every single, time that I saw Tracie, or would talk to her, I would say, "I want to go home." Every time, that I got onto the bus, "I would tell her, "I want to go home." I begged her everyday, for nine months, to take me back home. Every day was a struggle for me, because she never took me back. And when she finally did, I couldn't trust the only people who loved me, because they were the ones who let her take me away, in the first place.. I use a to be a happy child. I would not go a minute without smiling. I was joyfull. I was bright. But when I returned home, everybody could see that was taken away. I was no longer the happy child that I use to be. I won't ever be as happy as I once was. Something was different. Something has changed. And for once, the blame isn't held above anybodies head.

I'm Rebekah Liana Nunn, and that was the beginning of my biography.