I want to welcome and thank you all for visiting and showing interest in my blog filled with childhood stories never told to anyone. A life filled with many dark secrets only shared between my wife and I.
There is always that one room in our homes where we all share great home cooked meals, laughs, conversations, table games, birthday celebrations and yes, even debates at the dinner table from politics, science and of course religion.
It is also the same room where we share tears of sorrow, and our most deepest family secrets…Our Kitchens! I will share with you how I came from a life of a broken home and taken to an orphanage where I lived for less than a year, before being placed in a foster home, where I became a victim of Child Abuse by the hands of my foster father.
Living with a foster family would not only change my life, but left scars so deeply embedded in my mind, to this day, I am haunted by the memories and dreams of my past. After all I went through as a child and the abuse I experienced through those eight years, didn’t stop me from becoming not only successful in life, but lived out my childhood dream becoming a Police officer.
I wasn’t about to let one man destroy me, no matter how many times he said I would amount to nothing. I may have proved him wrong, but not without a price that changed my life forever. From living in a group home, and being homeless for four years, I ended up becoming a husband and father at the young age of just twenty-one.
The road to my destiny was going to be a long one, and the odds were stacked against me to ever succeed. As I grew older well into my twenties, nothing was falling into place. No matter how hard I tried to get ahead, life would hit me with upper cuts and body shots that would drop me on the canvas all bloodied up, like an exhausted boxer with no fight left in me.
Maybe my foster father was right. Maybe I was meant to be a nobody after all. Maybe I was meant to chase a shadow of something I will never be. Maybe I should give up. But I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel, not just yet. I wasn’t about to give up and take a fall on the biggest fight of my life and cry No Mas!
I have a lot of fight in me left, and there is no way I’m getting knocked down by anyone or anything anymore. As far as I’m concern, I might lose a few rounds, but I will win this fight. So I lifted myself off the canvas inside the Ring of Life, took a deep breath as Destiny stared me down waiting for my next move. My name is Mike Ashton, and these are my Kitchen Stories.
Important Message: Please click over Archives on right and scroll to November 2013 and begin reading all my stories in order!