The Strength of Silk: Living a Life of Grace & Gratitude

By Lakysha Laing

Are you allowing the experiences of your childhood trauma hold you hostage to living a life free of that trauma as an adult? Have life's circumstances have you questioning your purpose? Have you ever questioned why God would allow you to go through the things you are going through? Have you ever wondered how someone going through unbelievable & unimaginable experiences can display an armor of faith and perseverance?

These questions are the same questions Lakysha had to ask herself over and over as her life unfolded before her eyes.

When presented with many life-changing experiences, she tells her story of triumphs and strong faith.

Lakysha will share with you a glimpse into a life that almost wasn't, a life that started with tragedy, that progressed to a life of intentionality, and continues with a life of ups & downs, yet she remained positive, faithful, and grateful for a life where she continuously gives herself the grace to continue.

If you are looking for a book that shares a story of someone who didn't let how her life started dictate how her life turned out, this is the book for you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781667819037

Book preview

DEDICATION

To my wife. I always think back to our early days of me ignoring your calls for the first month after we met to that first night, I tried to woo you with dinner and a movie (Shoot Em Up). I remember the day you told me, I ain’t going nowhere, and all the times I swore up and down to my best friend that I ain’t never getting married". 15 years later and 11 of the happiest years as your husband and partner, our journey continues. You’ve been my champion, my supporter, my advisor, and my confidant. You’ve challenged me to be a better person and at the same time, allowed me to be myself.

I’ve watched you flourish in every venture and pridefully supported and cheered for you every step of the way. I remember the nights just sitting on the couch with you while you went after your master’s degree, to getting up 3 hours early to take you to an interview only to arrive 3 hours late. I remember our strategy sessions about what our next moves would be, to us achieving them one by one.  We would laugh each step of the way about how 2 knuckleheads from NY could make moves & achieve the things we have together: never alone.

I’ve always been inspired by who you are, your strength, willingness, directness, and the hopefulness you see in people. Even when we were tested with the unbelievable in 2018 and literally knocked the wind out of our sails, I watched what only can be described as a butterfly rise.

I watched the strong woman you are, go through heavy chemo treatments on Thursday and head right back to work on Monday. I watched you go through 30 radiation treatments day-after-day early in the mornings and work a full day, still happy and full of life. To spend almost 2 years going through that journey with you, the up and downs, the hard days, and the days we spent just sitting on the couch together watching TV. To see you come out on the other side and for us to just continue our journey, fulfilling our dreams and being stronger because of it, has solidified that we were in this thing called life together. That was the most inspiring thing that I have experienced in my life.

As I sit here and write this and know what is in these pages, this is only a glimpse into our story that only we can truly understand. No one will understand how an extrovert and an introvert can balance each other out and push each other to succeed. 

I write this knowing that this is your story, and this is your way of telling the world about your journey. But it’s the selfishness inside of me that wants to keep these memories and moments to myself. I cherish them, and I covet them. They are moments in my heart that words could never describe.

Although people might follow along and get a glimpse of who you are and the journey you’ve taken, they will never understand the true extent of the life of a simple woman who has spread her wings and became my beautiful Butterfly. 

I love you always & forever, your husband, Cliff

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF SILK

Silk is known as the Queen of Textiles because it holds a prestigious place in the hearts of manufacturers around the world. Silk comes from the fibers of a silkworm insect and is considered the strongest natural textile in the world. Chinese legend Empress Leizu is credited with developing the art of silk making or sericulture, and for generations, it was the most prized & best-kept secret of the Chinese culture. Silk is known to be four times stronger than a steel thread of the same thickness and still displays a softness that people adore.  I was first introduced to the significance of silk in my teenage years when my mother asked my sister to make me a dress for prom; she chose silk because her silk exemplified excellence. In our household, silk was only worn or used on special occasions. Silk outfits, dresses, blouses, sheets, or robes were kept in a special garment bag and stored out of reach of the children, in a closet.  You could only get to it in the closet if you got on a step stool to reach for it.  My mom would tell me that silk garments were worn by emperors and royalty as a status symbol.  If you had on silk in the neighborhood we lived in, you were considered uppity, and people stared at you until you were out of sight when you walked into a room. It was a status everyone wanted because to be uppity signified that you made it!

Imagine a black limousine, driven by my brother who was more than 40 years older than the 16-year-old me, with a tall brown girl, stepping out at 5’8 about 125lbs., with legs for days, in a purple floor-length silk dress, with matching purple shoes, a freshly pressed hairstyle (with a small burn mark on my ear from the iron catching it) that hit my shoulders because the heat of the day hasn’t gotten to it yet, and a small white purse with a silver chain handle; with all eyes on her. Yes, I made it!  At least for the night. For the night, I got to live in the moment of what was and bask in all my glory. Tomorrow, it was back to living in reality,

The significance of the strength of silk and its secrecy is a great representation of my life experiences and the stories I tell, which are glimpses into the strength that it took to be where I am today.  Like silk, I was woven from many threads in my lineage, some things I know and some I don’t, but all make me strong, nonetheless. Like spider silk used to make spider webs, I have a profound strength to withstand a lot and demonstrate my strength through my flexibility and resilience. The words in this book represent each thread of silk that has made me into the person I am today.  They are MY experiences.  Some may agree and some may not…but it’s not about them.  This book is about releasing what I feel is holding ME back from truly living my best life, not you or anyone else.  This book is also being written for those holding on to things in their past and are afraid to release them for fear of reprisal or judgment.  I say to you what the women in the BEYOND Signature Series told me in June 2020…WRITE THE BOOK!

When completing this book, I often talked myself out of writing it for fear of how people would try to identify who I was speaking of and how they would receive the intended message.  I was reminded of what my father would often tell me, you can’t worry about what people think of you to the point that it stops you from moving forward because if they treated you with respect they shouldn’t care what you say about them.  This would be the defining moment where I would WRITE THE BOOK!

WHO AM I?

I Had a Twin But Never Knew Her

The memory of my childhood from the age of 3 – 7 is based on what has been told to me and what very little I remember up until that point.  Here is what I have been told.

My biological mother was a drug addict. She went on binges and often left the 3 children she had at the time with strangers. When she came back after a binge, it was only to stay for a day or two to pick us up and take us to another stranger.  I’ve been told that my mother had other children, but all I know is my older sister and brother; I have no memory of other siblings. I do not know who my biological father is and have never met him. I was a twin, and I was told that her birth name was Latasha. Keyword was. The story goes that my mother decided one day to leave me, my twin, and my brother with a strange woman she met in a supermarket in Brooklyn.  It was said that I was the twin that always just stared at you. No expressions whatsoever; I would just stare at you as if I were staring through to your soul.  My twin, on the other hand, cried a lot. She cried so much; that no one wanted to watch her but would agree to watch me. My mother would never separate us. However, she didn’t know what to do as a young parent (it was thought that she was in her early 20’s by the time she had 3 children and would leave us with strangers to escape the pressure of raising children with no help. 

Our dads were out of the picture, and we were also the product of quick flings. I was told that my twin and I were born while she still had drugs in her system which caused some of the behavioral issues I experienced at a young age and could be the reason that my sister cried so much. It was told to me that one of the reasons my mother left us with so many different people was because she didn’t know how to handle a crying baby.  The reason she cried so much, I was told, was because my sister had the remnants of drugs in her system, but I did not, which means in the womb, my twin absorbed it all. She did the best she could with what she had and knew how to do it. She didn’t have her mother to help her or a family she could lean on. She was literally on her own. This was not the first time she left us with strangers, but it is the first time something bad happened. 

On a summer day in Brooklyn, my mother met a woman in a supermarket. They struck up a conversation and at some point, we ended up at this strange woman’s house. As the story was told, my mother left and said she would be right back. She told this woman that she had to run a quick errand and that we were good children who wouldn’t give her any trouble. She was so convinced that the woman agreed.  As soon as the door closed, my sister started crying and she would not stop.  Later, the woman told police that she tried for hours to quiet my sister; she fed her, shook her, and gave her to my brother