1987; 7:05 P.M, I came into the world screaming with a purpose. Born and raised in arguably one of the toughest boroughs in New York City, Brooklyn. From a moment in time where being from my neck of the hoods meant something. A time stray dogs chased you home as recurrent shots and sirens sung you to sleep. The old gritty, graffiti bombed, watch you’re back at all cost New York City.

A Bedstuy Native who'd rather get dirty than sit pretty. Raised by a village of resilient women, their heroic estrogen would teach me to be fearless. My grandmother’s words would become my armor throughout life.

From crayons to pencils, gel pens to ball points, I would begin to write as young as five. “I want to touch people through my words ” I’d repeat. My mother recalls I was eight years old. By the age ten, I’d identify as a writer and writing would become my secret obsession. Mentors began to flock to me tighter than a herd of sheep.

A child amongst elders, time was spent with a classic man, my Poppy. He would teach his only granddaughter through his life experiences. An exemplary father figure and as his youngest apprentice we’d spend hours in his shed, absorbing his lifetime of philosophies and skills. I’d witness the relentless work of a first-generation entrepreneur.

By 12, my skill set grew beyond the misogynistic views of society. A self sufficient, young princess in no need of a prince. Poppy would teach me to play the piano and guitar, but I would not remember a single key. Instead, I’d stare off at his face, memorizing every wrinkle while counting off each mole. Our bond would imprint on my soul for my lifetime.

 A traveler before walking, by pre-teen I could describe different parts of the world. Spent six barefoot summers, 260 days away from the contagious vibrations of New York City. I would become conscious, Vermont would connect me with campers from every corner of the world. A global vantage point beyond my Brooklyn stoop. Unplugged from societies diversions my young inner spirit happified, shaping the sailing soul of today. Falling in love with art and music, rehearsing rock classics on acoustic guitars and avoiding first kisses by the bon nuit tree. I’d Woodstock on the damp grass with over a hundred of adolescents , falling asleep to the bass of live bands. Despite waking up in the morning with a damp sleeping bag and sore throat. Embracing mandatory swim lessons in borderline freezing temperatures, I’d fall in love with nature. Swimming across lakes while enjoying canoe sunsets, I’d learn to love a simpler way of life. Surrounded by peace, love, clear skies, sparkling stars. Amongst the next rising generation of millennial hippies.

My single mother's sacrifices and unconditional love allowed me to live with style and grace. She’d trust her favorite daughter to find her path and make the right choices. She tirelessly made sacrifices with no complaints, exuding strength. Life sometimes felt like a circus, my absent father was full of tricks. Our relationship full of broken promises, born into a pool of unwanted liquor. Yes, I was drunk in love, yearning for his sobriety. His personal demons would haunt my growing spirit, through his darkness he would gift me light. Never allowing his absence and addiction to cripple my growth, I would forgive him and understand even a parent deserves grace. Never undervaluing his worth, he was a man of knowledge and strength. Blinded by his choices and hitting walls through his maze of traumas. Not every road leads to redemption, may he rest in power .

The girl always with the guys, refusing high heels and make-up embracing my unlikeliness. Heated debates on the best rappers alive and slap boxing on subway cars, I’d become the greatest wing woman of all time. My male friends would rely on my presence to soften their approach, they would become my brothers.

Girls disliked and envied what they didn’t understand. The whisper’s and cold shoulders couldn’t penetrate the layers of self-worth I proclaimed. The "tall girl” rumored to be a fool for turning away a modeling career, I'd choose my sanity and happiness over the industry.

Shattered by the unconditional love for friends, an ailing soul by my mid twenties. Heartbreaks, poor choices, failures and lost friends would lead to my spiral. The universe would eventually guide me to rejuvenate my spirit. Went from pointing fingers to a staring contest with my self reflection in the mirror. Painful experiences of the past would become my driving force for strength in the future. I’d go off the grid… find a new earth … let go of hurt … realign my passions … give birth … lose my selflove… and then re-find my worth.

So here, I am seeking to be the best version of myself and living through my purpose during my earthly experience. I am no different than you

-Humbly Krysta

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