Andy Slater
Breaking the Curse is a very entertaining and inspiring chronicle.
It is a sometimes funny, sometimes serious, sometimes happy, sometimes sad, sometimes emotional and sometimes trying account of a life. It is an odyssey.
It is a story about a destructive and debilitating trait that plagued a family. But one woman, a wise, loving and caring mother, is determined to save her son from the pitfall. She forges a very special relationship between herself and her only son, and sets out to prepare and enlighten her boy.
It covers a boy’s journey through adolescence to manhood and reveals his experiences, trials and shortcoming, misdeeds and triumphs.
It defines a "Curse" and reveals how a mother’s wisdom, strength, and courage, prepared her son for the cause of "Breaking The Curse".
A very good friend, Mr. Glenn Walters, told me once, "Colo, everybody has at least one book in them. Write your book man. People will read it."
Another very good friend, Raquel, said, "there is lots of room on the book shelves for yours, so write."
Colo is just your everyday, ordinary guy. He’s the guy next door. He is a husband, a father, a brother, an uncle and a friend. Colo will be the first to say that he is no author. He is an engineer who likes to write. He’s written essays, short stories, poems, letters, emails and reports.
One day, Colo heeded his friends’ words and decided to write his story. He started out writing "Not Without My Sons". He soon realized that instead, the words on the paper were telling a different story. His mind was set on one topic, but his heart was set on another. When he was finished, four months after he’d started, the title on the front page read, "Breaking the Curse".
... All this was taking place around the same time that I was experiencing the height of my pubertal transformation. And it was a bit overwhelming. First of all, for the sake of argument, I was going through it alone. Sure, my mother had spoken to me about the differences between boys and girls, and where babies came from. Sure, I'd heard a sermon or two at church about fornication and adultery. But none of this really prepared me for the changes I was experiencing physically, physiologically and psychologically. And remember, the number one figure in my life who had gone through the same transformation, my father, never did share with me, his experience, his knowledge or advice. Secondly, I began to take notice that sex was everywhere. It had worked its way into my conversations so I heard it almost daily. I saw it in the number of young, teenage girls who were getting pregnant. I saw it blossoming in the bosoms of those girls that, just a few months ago, were flat. I saw it push against the back of the schoolgirls’ skirts. I saw its flare in their hips. I saw it sashay in their walk. I felt it invade my mind and set up residence there. And when those thoughts began to occupy my nights, I was left to deal with them all by myself and on my own, with no counseling, no teachings. So I did what seemed to come natural...
...In the immediate aftermath, my nocturnal emissions became a nightly affair. And with each new session, it seemed like the duration lengthened and my jimmy grew bigger, stronger and harder, making for more violent and turbulent eruptions.
After some time though, a conflict was brewing in my head. On one hand, there were the fleshly desires and curiosities that were bellowing inside me. On the other, there was guilt born out of the lessons my mother spent countless hours trying to teach me. By day, I tended to agree that my mother's lessons were right and that my nocturnal activities were carnal and wrong. But by night, when faced with the desires and cravings of my loins, It was easy to justify giving into my flesh. You see, my mother couldn't possibly know what I was feeling and going through. After all, she was a woman. She couldn't possibly know the torments of a throbbing jimmy. She couldn't understand my urges, wants and needs. So there was no way she could prepare me for dealing with them. She could speculate and quote scriptures till thy kingdom come, but the fact is that she could not, in practical human terms, tell me, her son, how to keep my hands out of my pants. After all, how could a woman tell a man how to deal with manly issues? Even if women face similar issues, there would always be certain elements that are unique to the different sexes. It may be as simple as psyche, but it takes a man to prepare a boy for male issues and a woman, a girl for female issues. Now I’m not saying that a man cannot raise a girl-child or a woman a boy, but they can’t cover every base. That’s what I’m saying.
My nightly activities developed an appetite for more engaging sex. And for several months, I catered to it in the only manner I could, through masturbation. In my mind however, I began to fantasize about screwing. Masturbation gave me the sweetest feeling I'd ever experienced and I could only imagine intercourse being much better. I started rationalizing that I wasn't a long way off; that it was within my reach. I knew for a fact that certain girls liked me. All I needed to do was gather the nerve to talk to them and before long, at least one of them would oblige me.
