I was born Francisca Rey, in Santa Ana Ca, to Gilbert Rey and Patricia Valdez on February 18, 1975. My dad was 25 years old and my mom was 26 years old. I am 3rd to the youngest of 7 children, 2 boys and 5 girls. My mom had 3 children in her previous marriage with my dad and had 4 of us with him. My mom eventually was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. They didn’t find it until she gave birth to my youngest brother. She entered the hospital walking and left in a wheelchair. The cancer had spread all over her body and when she went into labor she became paralyzed. They gave her less than a year to live and unfortunately passed away 8 months later at the age of 28. Leaving 4 kids under 5 years old. My half siblings were a little older. Due to those circumstances my grandparents on my dad’s side along with his younger siblings moved from Mexico to Santa Ana to help my dad raise us. My two older sisters, as they got into their teens rebelled against my dad and moved with other family members..they eventually ran away and turned to drugs and prostitution. They were in and out of the system, jail and eventually prison.

I remember that my upbringing was normal I guess, our physical needs were met but even though I was in a house full of people I felt very alone. My family was very emotionally detached and had a hard time expressing love and affection. Because I didn’t have that at home, I was always looking for love and acceptance in all the wrong places. I got involved in a lot of things as a preteen that I should’ve never experienced and robbed myself of the things I should have experienced as a teenager. I experimented with drugs, I partied and became very promiscuous, I dropped out of High School and never gave myself the opportunity to go to college. I grew up too fast. I did so much damage to my soul at such a young age. Because I had never learned to express my emotions, I was a walking time bomb. I would explode and hurt the people I loved with my words. I had a lot of anger and bitterness in my heart. I felt like I was a dead person walking, an empty shell. I had no reason for living. At the age of 17 I also got diagnosed with cancer. I thought my life was over and to be honest I wasn’t afraid to die. I had no purpose in my life. We found out I had thyroid cancer and it was very treatable. God wasn’t done with me yet.