I wonder what my life would be like if I’d grown up with a father. I’ve oftentimes found myself pondering this question over and over again. It’s a fear that I might not be the same person that I am today. It’s also a lost hope that maybe I could be different.
For the past 30 years of my life, I’ve struggled with my true identity. I know who I am. I see the face that stares back at me in the mirror. I know my heritage, the information on my birth certificate, and the family that I grew up with. I know all these things about myself. Yet there’s still a gaping hole in the inner depths of my being that I cannot fill.
My mother was a single mother. From the time of my birth, I was already a statistic. She never really talked about my father, but when she did it was never anything positive. It was always how her life could be better. I thought we had a pretty decent life growing up. We were no perfect little family, but we had each other. Some good that did. I remember lots of things from my childhood, and those things helped mold me into who I am today.
So who am I you ask? I am a woman. A promiscuous woman. I don’t have any children for fear that I might repeat the vicious cycle with my own daughter. I couldn’t bear the thought of her growing up with no identity, without having a father. The men I date are worthless. I know this for a fact. I guess that’s why I charge them so much.
But enough about that for now. This is a quest to find out who I am. Why am I here on this earth? To find the answer to that question I must pose another question. Who is my father? I believe once I find the answer to that question the rest will fall into my hands. So let’s start with what I do know.
I know that my name is LaTonya John. I was born in the spring of 1980. Some might say that was a good year, but I’d beg to differ. My mother’s name is Carol. We have different last names, which used to give me some hope. When I turned 18, I started snooping into her past trying to find old boyfriends with the last name John. Turns out she referred to all of her men as “John”. Can you believe my mother gave me my last name based on her clients? Is that even legal? Again, I guess that’s why I charge so much to my own clients. In some sort of way I charge them for my pain. There’s a satisfaction in that. Being named after a customer in the solicitation business doesn’t make your future look too bright. Oh well. The other thing that I know about myself is that I am a call girl. An escort. A woman of the night. However you want to label me is fine with me. I gave up on self-esteem a long time ago. Don’t be too quick to judge me though. At least I get paid for what I do, and very well I might add.
I started in this business on the day I turned 19. I was dating this guy from my college. We had two different majors. He majored in business and I majored in partying. One night he invited me to his frat house for a few drinks with the guys. Everyone knew I preferred to hang around guys rather than girls anyway. It’s always been that way with me. Before you get to thinking in the wrong direction, let me finish. While I was at this party, this woman walks in. I remember she was the prettiest woman I had ever seen in my life. She looked like she stepped out of a beauty magazine or something. She had this pretty long hair and these big brown eyes. Well, I knew she didn’t go to school there. It was a small school and you pretty much knew everybody. It really threw me off guard when she started to take off her clothes, right in the middle of the floor. I felt a little uncomfortable at first, but I began to relax. My boyfriend took me by the hand and told me to join her. For the life of me I didn’t know what I was doing, but I’m a fast learner. I made $300 that night. After that, I was hooked.
I dropped out of school the next day. I broke up with my boyfriend. I told him I had to get out of that small town! Because of him, I now had a dream. My dream was going to take me to the big city. I went to my mother’s house that day while she was at work. Some guy was sitting on her couch and I decided to ask him if I could practice what I learned the night before in front of him. That was another quick $100. I was getting better and better at this, and fast. I took my newly found wealth and headed to the train station. Next stop, Vegas.
When I got to Vegas, I decided to try things on my own for a little while to build up clientele. I needed cash to get by. I knew if I wanted to do better for myself, I had to become better at what I was doing. After the first couple of months I had earned enough for some minor plastic surgery. I got a nip here and a tuck there. It did the trick. Then I bought some makeup and some nice clothes. Bought myself a car too. I was living the golden life and I actually thought other people were envious of me. Since I was in Vegas I could flaunt what I did and nobody could do anything about it. That was a major perk.
For some unknown reason, I made it by the entire time there without a pimp. I started out dancing for guys. Then I moved on to role playing. That got old pretty quick. Some people have some pretty weird fantasies and I just couldn’t keep up. After all the experimentation with those things, I just stuck to plain old…well, you know. A seasoned girl like me can’t always kiss and tell. That has earned me over two million dollars to this day, not including my investment interests.
Once I started making a couple thousand dollars a week, I got smart with my money. I started investing it. I dated this guy who was a stock broker. He didn’t mind what I did for a living, as long as his benefits were free. So in exchange for what I gave him, he showed me off to his fancy friends and taught me how to invest in the stock market. I’m forever grateful to him to this day, which brings me back to my father.
I was at a banquet dinner one night with my stock broker boyfriend when in walks this older gentleman. He introduced me to him and said his name was Wallace John. I was floored! For the first time in my life I met another man with the same last name as mine! Better yet, this man was from the same town I was from! I hit the jackpot! I slipped him my number and told him to give me a call. He called the next day, and my search ended after that phone call. This man knew my mother, he knew she had gotten pregnant while they were together, and he knew about me. This man was my father! But as life has come to teach me, there are no such things as happy endings.
After I told him about my life, guess what he wanted then? No, not that. He wanted money. After all this time of not being in my life, he decides to try and ask me to give him something? The nerve! I told him where he could go and vowed that I would never speak to him again.
So, I had found my father. Thing was, I still didn’t know who I was. Why am I the person that I am? Why have I followed in my mother’s footsteps? Do I really have to continue down the path that I’m on in life, or is there something more waiting for me out there? Just when I become content with the fact that I may never get answers to these questions, my phone rings. It’s my father’s wife. She called to say that my father passed away, but that he had left something to me in his will. The only stipulation was that I had to turn from the way I was living my life and submit myself to his dying wish. I knew that my father was a wealthy man. I got on the internet and did a search on him when we first met. Turned out he owns lots and lots of real estate, here and abroad, which puzzled me as to why he asked me for money. So I was faced with a hard decision. Did I turn from everything I knew to follow the requests of a man I knew nothing about? While I did enjoy my work, I knew I wasn’t getting any younger. I decided it was indeed time for a change. So I told my father’s wife that I’d be there first thing the next morning.
It was at this point that I discovered who I was. When I stepped off the plane, there were people lined up waiting for me. One person took my bags. Another person was holding flowers. It was like they were greeting royalty or something. I’ll never forget it. I was escorted into this long, black limousine and taken to this estate. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before. My insides were going crazy with butterflies and excitement. My father owned a mansion. I mean, I’d seen mansions before but nothing like this. It was decorated on the inside and out with the finest of materials. It was breathtaking. I began to think that this was too good to be true . But suddenly, we pulled up at the front door and this man comes out. It was my father’s son. He just stood there patiently while I was getting out of the car. When I walked up to him, all he said was that he’d been waiting for me. Puzzled, I kept walking into the house.
I was led to a room where this man was sitting behind a large desk. He read my father’s will, which was less than a page long. In short, my father had left everything that he owned to me. I couldn’t believe it. I had finally found a place where I belonged. It was an amazing feeling, and I noticed the gaping hole inside of me no longer felt as large as it had before. After the man read my father’s will, he handed me a book. He told me it was my father’s personal journal. Inside of it held all the answers to all the questions I had about who he was. If I ever faced a problem with everything that he had left for me, I was told that I could find the answer in this book. And with that, they handed me the keys to everything I now own.
In short, what I learned was this. My Father was a part of my life all along. My mother knew who He was, but had long lost touch with Him because of her lifestyle. It was never my fault that I didn’t know my Father. He had always tried to reach out to me but I was never introduced to Him to know who He was. I would always see my Father when I was younger, but I never recognized His face. He would always try to call me but I was always too busy. My Father is God.
To the person reading this -
You are my relative. It doesn’t matter what you do, what you’ve done, or what you’re thinking about doing. My Father sees you, and He is waiting for you to see Him. He wants so desperately to be your Father if you let Him adopt you into our family. Don’t live life as though there are no consequences. To every decision is a repercussion. Don’t let your past dictate your future. Instead, let your past be a stepping stone to bigger and better things. Accept the call that I now give to you. Open your heart to receive the Father.
“I am the good shepherd; and I know My sheep, and am known by My own. As the Father knows Me, even so I know the Father; and I lay down My life for the sheep. And other sheep I have which are not of this fold; them also I must bring, and they will hear My voice; and there will be one flock and one shepherd.”