I met 24 year old Kizzy close to a homeless shelter in Atlanta. She had arrived 3 weeks prior, from Ohio, to escape from the drama of her life there.
Kizzy: I was 7 or 8 when I got molested by my grandmother’s man. I told my grandmother and she told me she believed me. Then, about a week after I told her, me and my brother were being shipped off to live with my mom in Detroit. My grandmother knew that my mom was still on drugs. Shortly after going to Detroit, we were sent to foster care.
BW: Did your grandmother stay with the man who molested you?
Kizzy: She did, yeah. She stayed with him til he died. She knew the situation and she just didn’t give a fuck.
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Kizzy: When I was 18 I got with a man who was older. He acted like he had money, but he didn’t. I was naive and dumb and I got knocked up twice by him. I had a job in the medical field, but I lost it. I was very dependent on my family to look after my kids for a bit so I could go to work, but they wouldn’t. There wasn’t a reason for it. They just didn’t want to help me. I got behind on my rent and I got evicted. I feel like my family was trying to sabotage me because after I got evicted, they called child services on me. My kids got taken away from me.
The last little bit of money that I had, I spent on a bus ticket to Atlanta. I left everything that had value to me in Ohio. Everything that was good is shattered to me right now.
BW: Is there anything you want to tell your kids?
Kizzy: I would tell them that I love them from the bottom of my heart, no matter what. I hope that where they’re at is where they need to be.
BW: Where are your kids now?
Kizzy: They’re in foster care… I would imagine. I haven’t called because I’m not in a position where I can say anything or do anything.