Get Into Houa's Mind

It's the end of March. This time last year, I was pregnant with my fifth child and filming every single weekend. I was working from 5 in the morning until 9 at night. I wondered to myself if I would ever reach the end. There were times where I was crying to myself because the journey was more hurtful than I expected. I faced a lot of struggles and I faced a lot of people who turned me away because suddenly I became what they couldn't be. And as much as I tried to ignore, it still burned. But I learned that forgiving them was the only way to  move forward. And swallowing down all the sting and the pain, I forgave them and moved on. And today I'm facing the light of the tunnel. The project is almost done. It's so close to being done that I'm on the edge of my seat. If you ask me if I've seen it, the answer is YES. I've sat down and I've watched the film. There were times on set when I would try to hide the tears that threatened to spill while filming. ...

I finally worked up the courage to call my mother that evening. As I predicted, she wasn’t happy that she was the last one to know of the accident. She made sure her voice was heard. And the words she chose to say made me cringe and felt guilt at keeping it from her. By the time she was done lecturing, I felt exhausted.      “Are you done?” I asked.      “I’m just getting started!” she cried.      “Can I just get one thing out of the way first? And you can go back to rambling.”      “What?” she almost shouted.       “You’re going to be a grandma.” There was a long pause and then she laughed out loud. My heart leapt as I heard her start crying.      “Oh my Lord! I’m beyond thrilled. Honey! Why didn’t you say something?”      “You were talking for the past ten minutes!”      “No, I wasn’t.”   ...

I didn’t return home until almost midnight. I sat in a bar lounge watching everyone around me live their lives. I kept hearing his mother’s words describing me enter my mind and it kept wounding me. But what wounded me more was when I returned home to find Garrison wasn’t home. I called his phone and it rang a few times before it went to voicemail. Feeling frustrated, I went downstairs to get a drink. I fumbled around the kitchen cabinets until I found a stash of hard liquor. I poured myself some Whiskey and began drowning in it. I tried his number again. This time, someone picked up, except it wasn’t Garrison. It was Tasha. I recognized her sultry voice and anger hit me so hard, I threw my phone against the wall. It shattered into pieces and I began to cry. Hurt escalated through my body and I started swearing at the wall. I drank some more and then threw the bottle against the wall. Tears streamed down my face as I thought back to his promises, which now meant nothing to me. ...