Finding Me: A Memoir Audiobook

Finding Me: A Memoir Audiobook
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Finding Me: A Memoir Audiobook 🎧 Viola Davis

In my book, you’ll meet Viola, a young girl who ran away from her past until she made the life-changing decision to stop running forever.

This is my story, from a run-down apartment in Central Falls, Rhode Island, to the New York City stage, and beyond. This was the path I took to discover my purpose as well as my voice in a world that didn’t always recognize me.

As I worked on Finding Me, I became more aware of how our stories are frequently overlooked. We are forced to reinvent ourselves in order to fit into a crazy, competitive, and judgmental world. So I wrote this for anyone who is untethered, desperate, and clawing their way through murky memories in search of some form of self-love. For anyone who needs to be reminded that only radical honesty and the courage to shed facades and be… you can give birth to a life worth living.

Finding Me is deep introspection, a promise, and a love letter to oneself. My hope is that my story will inspire you to express yourself creatively in your own life and rediscover who you were before the world labeled you.

#FindingMeAMemoirAudiobook #ViolaDavis #FindingMeAMemoir #ViolaDavisaudiobook

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Until the final bell rang, the teacher would open the door and everyone would dash out to go home. Everyone would get excited because it was the end of the day. Everyone except me as much as i could. I would push and shove my classmates almost clawing my way to the front of the line, not caring in the least if they got pissed at me, because when the bell rang, i had to start running. I had to escape a boy in my class who was cape verdean from the cape bird isles off the coast of west.

Africa was black and portuguese, and as black as i was, but he didn’t want to be associated with african americans. A mindset i later learned was very common among cape verdeans in central falls more often than not they self-identified as portuguese. They would kill you if you call them black. So my portuguese classmate and eight or nine white boys in my class made it their daily end of school ritual to chase me like dogs, hunting prey when that end of school bell rang, it was off to the races running literally to save my life for the Gang of boys, it was sadistic fun time every day it was the same madness. The same trauma me taking off like wilma, rudolph, a flojo and them tight on my heels while chasing me down.

They would pick up anything they could find on the side of the road to throw at me, rocks bricks, tree branches, batteries, pine cones and anything else, their devious eyes spied, but running me down and throwing projectiles at me wasn’t enough for them. Their vitriolic screams were aimed at the target of their hate. They threw you ugly black, [, __, ] you’re, so [ __, ] ugly, [, __ ], you thank god. I was fast. I had to run my ass off down eben brown lane the route i would take because it was a shortcut to get home an idyllic road that looked like a scene from the brady bunch.

At times. The boys would hide behind houses on that street and i would have to duck and dodge and crisscross. I was being hunted by the time i got home. I was a snot dripping crying mess every day, one day after a snowstorm, the snow was piled so high in the streets. Anyone could hide behind the giant mounds.

That seemed to be everywhere. My shoes had huge holes on the bottoms, which meant i couldn’t run fast in them, because they would make my feet hurt worse than they did already because of this. During my daily runs for my life, i would usually take my shoes off hold them in my hands and run in bare feet, but with mountains of snow everywhere. I couldn’t this time as a result they caught me and when they did, they held my arms back and took me to their leader the kate verdian boy. I don’t mention names because well, their race is way more important than telling this story she’s ugly, black [, __ ] [ __ ].

He said my heart was beating so fast. I kept silently praying for someone to come and save me and the other voices sounded around me. What should we do with her yeah you’re you’re [ __, ], ugly, you’re, ugly, you’re ugly? I don’t know why you’re saying that to me i plead it to the ringleader, the portuguese boy you’re black too, and when i said that everyone froze and fell deathly silent for a split second, we were all in a movie as all the now silent white boys Looked at the portuguese boy eager to respond to anything he said you’re black too. I yelled at this time calling him by name the gang remained silent, so quiet.

He looked and looked and looked from one white boy to another, frightened and struggling to find a way to hide the truth of what i had just said, the kind of truth, that’s rooted in a self-hate that we would rather take to our graves. Finally, he screamed in intense anger. Don’T you ever call me [ __, ] black, i’m not black, i’m portuguese and he punched me in the arm really hard. He looked down ashamed at being called out as if i exposed the ugliest most painful truth get out of my face.

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