As a mother of three fabulous masterpieces my heart goes out to tonight’s #ChangeYourNarrative participant. Our job as parents is to protect, love, and honor our children at all costs. But during Rosanne Reid’s childhood she was not protected, did not feel loved and her gifts were not honored. However, she did not let that stop her from sharing her purpose and passion with the world. Rosanne Reid was born and raised in Jamaica. She is the owner of BeeFree Marketing. Her mission is to help others birth and monetize their dreams through empowerment, speaking, lifestyle coaching and business consulting.
Tell us about your childhood.
I was born and raised in the Suburbs of St. Andrew, Jamaica, the first of 5 children for my parents. I grew up in a closed-sect church which is segregated from the rest of the world. My childhood was bittersweet and it is mostly littered with memories of the emotional and physical abuse I suffered during my childhood. I suffered from asthma and chronic allergies as a child in addition to the other issues I had such as a benign tumor on my arm which resulted in a near death experience at the age of 12. My home was one where my parents where in an emotionally abusive relationship. It was a difficult childhood as the church we were in also did not believe in the spiritual gifts such as those of prophecy, visions and dreams and the manifestation of speaking in tongues. And these gifts were prevalent in my life from childhood. Due to our religious beliefs, my father believed that my gifts were a sign of mental illness and as such I suffered severely from the punishments he gave me to punish this behavior out of me. One of the ways which my dad would punish me was by putting me in a dresser under the shelf where I would have to fold my body into a fetal position and then he would lock the door with a key. It was dark, dank and terrifying and as children we lived in fear because the slightest thing we did could warrant us getting a “cupboard” punishment as we referred to it. There were some pleasant times. Like playing the piano and playing with friends but it was all overshadowed by the drama and trauma of domestic abuse and lack of love that plagued our so called “Christian” family.
What would you say was the narrative that was expressed to you based upon where you grew up, how you grew up and the messages you received?
The narrative was that I was worthless, that my spirituals gifts were foolish and that I was mad. It was ingrained in me that I would be beaten by men just like my aunt, that women were inferior and good for nothing. I would always be poor. Members of the church said I was not good enough to marry a man with means. And that my gift of giving and loving others would mean I would always be poor because I love giving gifts to others and I believed that nothing good could ever come of my life.
Happiness seeping away,
I pray that I shall find it inside
and as the moonlight grows stronger each day
it’s backwards, inside out you might say.
where is daylight? is there an end?
My dilemma is hopeless, with no friends,
I’m thinking there won’t be an end.
Back to square one, restarting it all,
someone catch me, I’m about to fall.
Standing tall but stooping low
Why do I do this?
Stand tall, but no.
I stoop to the bottom of every life.
Not being noticed,
They do not strive
To trudge through darkness
and come out with a life.
Why do I do this,
I do not know.
but stooping low.
Who am I?
Where have I gone
On the road of life so troubled and worn.
Once there was a road that forked,
The bad the good.
I wished to pass to the other road,
For the one I traveled was littered
With broken dreams, and troubled souls.
Ripped up hearts and nothing grows
But agony and sorrow in abundance
I felt hopeless, That my fate was set.
Then a foot bridge I saw,
And crossed over and met
With the road of good, of dreams come true.
Sorrow no more, laughter grew.
Once there was a road that forked,
The bad, the good, be careful what you choose,
For it is just one simple decision, a flip of a coin
That will choose your fate and hold you hostage.
A footbridge you might see,
Choose it when you might,
Its your decision, a flip of a coin
That will cross you over to the life of joy.