Although this entire book is based on lies, I promise you that I will get as close to the truth that you need to know as possible. You see, I live my life today anchored in truth and I’ll admit that sometimes the real truth is too much for some to bear. The events that have transpired in my life make me walk the tightrope of truth every second, of every minute, of every hour of the day. My life's experiences have taught me that the truth is the only thing that I can firmly stand on when the titanic of life sinks. I used to thrive in the flames of lies that we so often tell ourselves. We tell lies to be accepted, we believe lies to be truths we wish existed, and we accept lies because we don’t often feel worthy of better.
My name is Raquel and I solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And if it’s the truth sets us free, then I’d say that I’m running as fast as I can towards the promised land. Up until this point, my whole life has been plagued by lies — lies men tell to be exact.
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After leaving the store, I went to Peter’s apartment and knocked on the door. There was no answer. I kept knocking until I got angry. For some reason, I believed that he was there and just not answering for me. Now men would have us believe that our intuition is off, but that’s one of the many lies that men tell. A woman’s intuition is never wrong. I became more aggressive in my knocking; resolved that come hell or high water I was getting in that apartment right then.
With pregnancy hormones raging, I busted through the window at the back of the apartment that led directly into the bedroom. I wasn’t even sure how I was going to step through the window with my belly in tow, but at the time, I wasn’t letting anything stop me. When I pulled back the curtain, it was as if my eyes were deceiving me. Peter was lying in the bed, butt ass naked, with another woman who I did not know. I lifted my leg and jumped through the window, landing on top of the TV stand. How in the world that thing didn’t break is beyond me. Without thinking, I reached for a machete near the top of the wall that Peter had mounted as decoration and I dove towards the bed. In that moment of rage, I don’t believe that I even remembered I was pregnant. The nerve of him!
Both Peter and the unidentified woman rose from the bed in fear and attempted to run towards the bathroom. I cornered them both off with the machete in my hand, tears in my eyes and rage in my soul. I began to hyperventilate. This was just too much to bear. “I can’t catch my breath,” I mumbled. I was leaning on the wall nearest to me as my body had given out.
“It’s not what you think,” said Peter.
“What the hell is it then? Huh? What the hell is going on?” I asked. I was discouraged and defeated.
Born and raised in Bakersfield, California, Raquel moved to Sacramento in the early 1990’s where she began life as single mother. Now a mother of two daughters and a grandmother she is now living her life drama free. In 2005, she founded an organization that mentors young girls called “Foundation TAMARA,” located in Sacramento, California. She feels that all young women should have a place to go for empowerment, encouragement and uplifting. For more than 10 years Raquel has used writing as a form of therapy to cope with heartbreak and unhappiness from failed relationships that made her question her self-worth. Now she has transformed her journal into a novel that all women around the world can relate to. She has learned the importance of loving herself and making the most of her life.
Raquel Solomon was born and raised in Bakersfield, California, and is a proud graduate from Sacramento State University.
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