My Fakebook Father: A Father's Love

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ISBN: 978-1-4897-3237-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-3236-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-3238-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020923618

LifeRich Publishing rev. date:  02/27/2021

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my Mama, Ebony, David, Ahbrianna, Sanaa, Isaiah, Brenda, Mia, Bridgette, Tajma and Devin. To Pastor Monique Robinson for her book and class Longing for Daddy and to Bruh-Pastor the Prophet for prophesying to me six years ago saying…I see you writing and your ministry is going to heal hurting people. To my brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews I pray that generational curses would be broken. To Mitch and Cay-Cay, to the spirit of Jackie Moms Mabley, Oprah Winfrey, the Braxton’s, Tyler Perry and all of the ladies who came forth in 2017 with sexual allegations including one man at that time, the courageous Terry Crews. To those seven broken Mitchell Brothers which includes one who is incarcerated and one who is deceased. To those who are afraid to speak up and to those who were even too afraid to live. To one brave little girl who spoke up and to everyone who listened, I am proud of you and grateful to those of you who cared. To every little boy who does not know where his father is and to every man who still does not know his and doesn’t understand how to be one. To every little girl who has ever been abused, molested or raped and to every woman with daddy issues. To every man who has ever raped and or been raped your healing might begin today. And to all of the raggedy daddies of the world in hopes of change in your life and the lives of your children both young and old. Also, I would like to dedicate this book to a very special lady who was in the audience at a comedy show in Southern California and to her four sisters. For them being there as support for each other and for sharing their story with me. Having bombed on stage in front of an audience of ninety seven percent men who walked out on me while testing some new material about being molested or raped. Perhaps my truth made them uncomfortable and if so that’s their problem. Thank you for encouraging me to never ever stop. I did not stop…well for a while I did but I AM back and I listened. I relived these memories all over again, and again, and again for each and every one of you that we might heal, inspire and be transformed that the world would be free.

Mama I miss you more than mere words can ever say and I look forward to seeing you again.

Reverend Daddy I love you still…

Authentic BOLD Risk-Taking Leader

I AM Somebody

CONTENTS

Foreword

Introduction

Aunt Pretty

The devil-god Father

Reverend Daddy

Mama

#MyFakebookFather

The Corona Virus-19 Blessing

Rerouted and Redirected into Purpose

FOREWORD

Pain. That was the first thing I saw when I met Side 2 Side over thirty years ago. I knew that God put her in my life for a reason. Her spirit was wounded and she wore it like an armor. Always geared up for battle because the world had been unkind to her. Her soul literally reached out to mine and said please help, I don’t want to live like this as I watched her grow into this beautiful woman that she is today. I was inspired by her struggle to create the best spiritual existence one could possibly have. She fought for her life and she fought for her very soul. I watched her fight to shed her anger and resentment like someone who’s ready to go into a different kind of battle. A spiritual warfare and one that is designed to heal the soul. When she first started talking about writing the book of her life, I knew she was still fighting to find that spiritual peace and completeness. She has always been a Christian, a believer in God and a staunch warrior for those in need. However, her personal battle still raged. In writing this book I watched her put away her armor that protected her from the world and pick up The Whole Armor of God. By the time the last word was written, she mended fences and built bridges with people in her life that thirty years ago we thought would never be mended. I am so honored to know such a strong warrior woman. It takes a lot of passion, guts and fearlessness to bare your soul in the pages of a book. She not only bared her soul so that she could help other people who have had similar experiences but, she has created a pathway to show you how to start with the fight for your life and end with the healing of your soul.

Quincy A. Hardin

Project Coordinator

(Master Instructor) the owner/operator and project coordinator for Global NxLevel Strategies has been an entrepreneur for over 28 years. Quincy is responsible for the day to day operations of GNS. While she has owned many successful business’s ranging from hair salons to cleaning companies her passion is teaching other entrepreneurs business development.

Quincy A. Hardin

#DEEPINSIDETHEMINDOFAVERYHURTLITTLEGIRL

MyFakebookFather was birthed from the pain of ridicule, rejection the desire to be loved and through 10 years of journaling. To protect those not capable of protecting themselves and to expose weaknesses conceived in darkness giving it light by transforming the brokenness into healing in purpose.

I would like to thank my supporter C.W. for your input during this process while providing a source of spiritual guidance during those times I would feel lost. Your encouragement through prayer, scriptures and sound advice was always an on-time word from the Lord.

Quincy Abernathy Hardin, I can never thank you enough for anxiously reading excerpts offering feedback, calling to remind me that Tuesday was coming and you needed your fix of, MyFakebookFather to read. You pushed me to never stop writing even when I was out of push, the p-u fell off and all I was left with was –sh.

You have been a blessing in disguise.

Thank you to my editor Kathy W. Nobles who tirelessly worked to give wings to this vision all the while dealing with a serious personal family crisis. For a knowing in her spirit that she was ordained for this particular ministry of healing and transformation during these questionable and uncertain times.

INTRODUCTION

My father called me because of information somebody had given to him that I posted on Fakebook but I still have not heard from my daddy. I know that your curiosity is peaked, but first I’ll have to give you the backstory so get ready and buckle up because this ride will be full of bumps, twists and turns. I have not shared my story after all of these years because I never wanted to cause shame or embarrassment to my father or my family. I didn’t want to hurt or upset him, because as he would say, You making me warm, don’t make me get warm. God knows I didn’t want him to get warm…no one wanted him to get warm. I’ve protected them for all of these years, but who is protecting me? Who protected me? No one, no one protected me so I’m learning how to do just that.

This book has been commissioned to aide in the healing of a nation of people, and to set those who are bound free from affliction through the good news and truth.

I AM a Integrity Warrior

My Mother Asked Me

April 24 1997

Side 2 Side, why were you laughing when I gave birth and brought You into this earth?

I responded (laughing) I was laughing to keep from crying for you See, sometimes you have to laugh to hold back

The tears, for I was to cry for many a year.

I was laughing because I was kept down,

Kept down in the womb for 9 months.

That’s why I kicked up such a fight

For I knew that I must get here

Cause I had a work to do

And I knew that it would take a while to do

That which I was called to do.

For you see I was chosen

Somewhere around May,

Conceived in February

I achieved

For I knew that I had this work to do

That none other would live up to.

So many lost souls,

So many struggling to be free

Crying through the night, laughing

The tears they disappear.

The stronger I grow, the weaker I become

Hurry Mama Push, Push, Push

There’s a baby crying a little girl

She suffers from abuse.

I laughed because the way was rough

It tickled me to no end.

For I knew that this would be the way,

Always at least for a season

For whatever God’s holy reason.

I was chosen,

I was designed

To do that which none other could do

To make you laugh

Even when you don’t want too.

In spite of you

And your cash flow

Or

Lack of cash, flowing down the river aimlessly

Wondering the earth

Looking for something

In search of what?

Why?

Who?

How?

Swimming!

Searching!

Drowning!

Floating to the top!

Arriving!

Push Mama Hurry!

Hurry Mama!

Push, Push, Push.

Push Mama Push!

His wife has left him for another man,

Push Mama Push!

Harder Mama

Push, Push, Push!

I’ve got to get here; my work is long I must begin

I see too little

I know too much

Push Mama Push!

Push, Push, Push!!!

Why Am I Crying?

Summer 1993

Because I’m the priestess

Goddess

Warrior

Queen

And I carry a message of peace

Healing

And love through the pain

And nobody recognizes me

No one hears me…

AUNT PRETTY

Aunt Pretty was my favorite aunt when I was a little girl. Aunt Pretty was my savior, my angel and my friend. She was my girl and I loved visiting Aunt Pretty. She had a big pretty house with little pretty furniture. Everything about Aunt Pretty was pretty. She was a beautiful woman with a generous spirit, and a devote tithe paying Christian woman. Aunt Pretty would give you the shoes off of her feet, she was like Jesus in a dress, water to the thirsty she was my She-ro, and was related to Reverend Daddy. That’s my father and that’s what I call him. I named him Reverend Daddy. He told me one day because I had been calling him by his name, that he was my daddy and that’s what your mama calls me. That and the fact that he never acted like one so I didn’t feel that it was appropriate for me to bestow upon him that honor, and maybe as a teenager this was inappropriate but it’s how I authentically felt and, him feeling the need to remind me was a clue for him that he hadn’t behaved as such or it could’ve been.

Reverend Daddy: That’s daddy to you nigger. Elder. Reverend.

Okay Reverend Daddy I said and I’ve been calling him that ever since. So, I guess technically he named himself. Aunt Pretty was the only relative of Reverend Daddy’s that we were allowed to be around, she was like a grandmother because Reverend Daddy’s mother passed away when he was in his senior year. Aunt Pretty was old school and Reverend Daddy approved. She was a true woman of God, from one of the Church Folk Church for Church Folks where you can’t join in, you’d have to be born in it. Yep, I was born into this cult and we couldn’t do much of anything unless it had to do with church, going to church or discussing church in the car on the way home from church when we were going back to church. We weren’t allowed to listen to music unless it was gospel music. I had to sneak and listen to non-gospel music turned down low in my bedroom. I loved me some Denise Williams and just like Niecy I just wanted to be free, I just wanted to be me. I also liked The Sugar Hill Gang Rapper’s Delight, Minnie Ripperton and Earth Wind and Fire. I was a fan of Minnie’s when she passed from cancer on July 12, 1979 at the age of 31. It broke my heart that she had to leave her small children motherless but I’m sure not as much as it hurt her, or them. Her son Marc courageously played a softball game later that day after his mom’s funeral and Marc’s team won. Minnie’s death made me think about mama and what Minnie’s poor children must have felt. I cried and prayed for them, and I was thankful to God for mama. Women from the Church Folk Church for Church Folk weren’t allowed to wear pants or anything associated with men. Your dresses had to be below your knees and you could not show any elbow. I was told as an adult it was this way in an attempt to help men control themselves, and that our elbows looked like vaginas. WHAT? These men are CRAZY, and aren’t we all supposed to be held accountable for our own actions? Who makes up these rules? Oh yeah, men do. Woman aren’t safe anywhere not even church. We weren’t allowed to go to the movies. The first time I went into a theatre I prayed for God’s covering, I was eighteen and feeling some type of way about it because I was told by Reverend Daddy that it was wicked and it had bad spirits so I can’t even lie and say that I wasn’t uncomfortable going in there for the first few times until I stopped hearing Reverend Daddy’s voice. Besides no one had ever said that they encountered demons at the theater. When Reverend Daddy was cruel to me, treating me as if I wasn’t even his child as he often did, I could always go to my She-ro Aunt Pretty. I knew that I could always count on Aunt Pretty, with her pretty self. She was the only person who could talk some sense into him. I would call Aunt Pretty in tears and she would call Reverend Daddy to set up a meeting because he believed in scheduling meetings and he still does to this day, so we could go over to her house to talk. I would pour my heart out telling her how he treated me different than the rest of my brothers and sisters.

Reverend Daddy: No… I don’t.

Yes, you do. I’d say how I never felt as though he loves me, how he would be sitting in his room at the back of the house calling out to me in my room from the very front of the house Brainless because that’s what he called me. Stupid! hey stupid come in here nigger cracking up laughing out loud heckling me as if I had just bombed on a comedy stage. With tears streaming down his face telling me that I’m Stupid. I could hear Mama’s soft as butter voice telling him not to do it and that it wasn’t nice but he would anyway. You’re a bad example a rotten apple, you don’t do nothing right attempting to suppress inhibit and control me by using the bible, his beatings and his words by painting images in my mind that I was worthless, unlovable, reject-able, and rejected. If I am a rotten apple maybe it’s because I fell from a rotten tree, I didn’t dare say it but it’s what I was thinking. Layne-Brain" and I know what you’re thinking Layne brain, what does that have to do with Side 2 Side and why would he call you that? Look a here you ask a good question on a day like today. Maybe he was the one stupid, but I don’t know I’m just a kid a P.K. a preacher’s kid, but I’m gonna need you to stick a pen in it, we’ll revisit this later. Aunt Pretty would be like.

Aunt Pretty: You can’t call her that!

Reverend Daddy: Yes, I can.

Aunt Pretty: No, you cannot. You will not break her spirit.

Reverend Daddy: Yes, I can that’s my daughter and I can call her whatever I want too!

Aunt Pretty: She is God’s daughter; she belongs to him and he entrusted her to you for you to raise her. Your job is to build her up and it is your responsibility to protect her to love her and to show love and concern for her unconditionally. You do not get to call her by any other name from this day forward, have I made myself clear Sonny?

Reverend Daddy: Yeah, I heard you.

I still cannot believe to this day that it worked, that she did it, or why hadn’t I contacted Aunt Pretty sooner? Aunt Pretty convinced Reverend Daddy to stop teasing and heckling me and calling me out of my name, wow there is a God! As a small child I never could understand why a minister, a man