I am Bobbi Kristina and she is us.
I wasn’t planning on writing a blog post until the beginning of next week. I was going write a recap of the last 6 weeks with the students at Vocatio (a career prep school). Instead, the news of Bobbi Kristina passing last night struck a cord in my heart. It struck a cord not simply because she passed but the reason behind her passing. It was the drugs. Her body could not respond to the drugs that she put in her body. Seeing all the post about the situation being sad were normal in the social media world we inhabit. It is a sad situation and the Brown and Houston family need the prayers of the righteous to strengthen them during this time.
What stuck a cord about her passing was that I am her. I often sit marveling at the fact that I am a changed person. I was born to two drug addicted parents. My parents were much like Bobbi and Whitney they were functional addicts. They could handle their business and pass in life. When I was 5 years old I heard the word cocaine for the first time. Riding down the street with my grandparents and my mother they mentioned to my mother after she was fired from her high power job as an executive with a casino that she needed to get off of the cocaine. I was 5 years old and barely saw my mother because she worked around the clock and functioned as an addict. I didn’t really know my mother then I knew she was mommy but I spent most of my time with my grandmother and aunt. They were my Cissy Houston.
When I was 7 years old we moved from our big house to an apartment away from my grandparents. My mother continued to function as an addict and I began to understand what it meant to be “parentified”.
Parentification is the process of role reversal whereby a child is obliged to act as parent to their own parent.
During this time I smoked my first cigarette, stole for the first time, snuck to the store, was exposed to pornography and was molested. I know it was a tough year. Unfortunately, it only got worse and even worse to this day my mother doesn’t know half of the things I’ve experience (neither do I in most areas because I’ve blocked them). When I say I am Bobbi Kristina I can’t imagine what she was exposed to at such a young age with two high power parents who had the resources to live how they wished and get high at anytime. My father was one of the biggest drug dealers in Atlantic City. In 1993 he died of an overdose. I knew my father but I spent a limited amount of time with him. Till this day I don’t know what its like to have a father. My brother’s later followed his steps of selling and trafficking drugs for 14 years.
By the time I got to college I was drug and alcohol free. I had one rule. I don’t drink or smoke. I had that rule because after selling drugs as a kid and seeing the effects of drugs on others I didn’t want any parts of it. I was prone to become an addict. It was in my genes (generational bloodline). The first weekend of college I was away from school my friends got high and drunk. When I came back they made it sound so fun. But I still resisted. I wish I could say I resisted forever but I didn’t. Freshman year I started my journey of a functional addict. I got good grades and was involved in extra curricular ac but on the campus of Rutgers University in 2001 I began my parents. I drunk and smoked whenever I had the chance. It ruled my life for three years.
During that time I had no idea of the deep pain of rejection, shame, lack of parental love, communication and so many other deep wounds that I suffered from. We all saw the emotional pain Bobbi Kristina was suffering from on “Being Bobby Brown”. I am sure after the cameras were off and for years to come it got worse. Her parents divorced, the tabloids continually lied about her life, they scrutinized her and she had no real parental structure. If we substrate the music and media industry Bobbi Kristina’s story sounds a lot like mine and so many others I know. We are she. We are a generation of children that were raised my addicts. We are a generation of children that are bruised by parents who were and are still are hurting. We are a generation of children that the Lord Jesus must heal.
At 32 years old over the last 6 months through intense Biblical counseling I am finally getting to the root of so many of my issues. When you grow up in an emotionally or physically abusive home you carry baggage. That baggage can be transported in different ways through overachieving, acting out, addiction or attention seeking. Bobbi Kristina like so many of us needed attention from her parents. She didn’t need money; she needed love. The damage was done to her long before Whitney died.
We tend to separate celebrity lives from real lives. However; God does not do that. He sees all of us as the same. If you are like me and Bobbi Kristina struck your heart pray for her family. But I encourage you to ask yourself why and then allow the Lord to start dealing with those deep dark wounds. We all have them. My parents had/have them. Bobby and Whitney had/have them. You and I have them. If you grew up anything like me you need Jesus (If you didn’t you still need Him). I needed Jesus to give me access to the Father so that I could call on Abba Father. I needed Jesus to show me that His church was were my idea of family would be restored. I needed Jesus to tell me He loved and liked me. I needed/need Jesus to affirm me. I needed Jesus to deal with what I couldn’t and still can’t fully articulate. Your story may not be as severe as mine and Bobbi Kristina’s; but it still has wounds that need to be healed. Don’t allow the drugs, alcohol, social status and other things to validate you and help you hide from the real issues of your heart. It will only last for a moment before it all comes crashing down on you again. In that moment I pray you call on the Lord Jesus to be Your Savior and Deliever. He’s a good God waiting to restore you. I pray that Bobbi Kristina’s story opens the door to parental conversations that bring healing and restoration to families.
