Punish Her Sister of a Legend: The Nicole Rodriguez Story

INTRODUCTION

I would like to begin by saying that the purpose of my book is not intended to hurt or offend anyone. Although many will be affected about what I will share with the world- I cannot sugar coat the reality of my life—unfortunately the truth hurts, and I will not lie in fear of hurting you. In advance I apologize but it took me ten years to write my story and now I am confident enough to tell it

Everyone in life has gone thru something-some stories may be worse than mine but mine was too much for me to manage. As a child up until I became a teen, I was put down a lot, craved affection, and love, and often compared to my sister’s beauty. I never shown stability- I never was told about the birds and the bees. I wasnt raised or nurtured in a happy or healthy household. I only learned survival of the fittest to make it thru my life. I strongly believe will are all products of our environment and therefore I eventually became disillusioned with my own. The cycle never broke for me and my life growing up impacted me in such a way that I grew to experience much of what I witnessed. I grow up to deal with abusiveness and unstable relationships. Dysfunction I was accustomed too and it was all I attracted in life. My life was me, my mom, and my brother Chris-this is all I knew. Despite our dysfunctional upbringing, my brother and I prove that we can become something great regardless of our circumstances.

STORY

My name is Nicole Nicky Rodriguez born on February 25th, 1977, at 10:12pm. My mother gave birth at her place of employment, Albert Einstein College of Medicine in Bronx NY The proud parents of me were my mother Gail Simpson and my father Thomas Rodriguez. My mother was a divorced former aspiring model and actress. My dad was a military boy from a religious and strict household. Together they could have conquered all but their mutual acts of poor judgment soon take them on a ride to rock bottom.

My mother was the oldest of three siblings. She had two younger brothers from a separate father. My grandmother’s favorite son was her youngest named Joseph. And the oldest son Luis was the stepfather’s favorite. My mom was no one’s favorite. My mom shared with me that she was the victim of verbal, physical abuse. My grandmother would tell her You ain’t shit, you never going to be shit. She would go as far as to tell her, ‘’I hated you from the first time I laid eyes on you and the best part of you ran down my legs after I had you."

My grandmother was a santera and often involved my mother in her rituals. Not that it was a terrible thing to be, but my grandmother used her beliefs to overpower those around her. She would bathe my mother in blood. She would cut off the heads of chickens and drip the blood over my mom in the bathtub. My grandmother would put all the parts of the mutilated chicken in a sac and make my mother take the chicken parts and bury them in the park.

My mom witnessed a lot of physical fights between her mother and step father Luis DeLaTejera. My grandmother was always attacking her husband because she always accused him of cheating. My mom described her mother as a Narcissist who believed the world revolved around her. Narcissistic personality disorder is a condition in which is excessively preoccupied with issues of personal adequacy, power, and prestige. For control or attention, she would go as far as pop pills and stick her head in the oven and inhale the fumes whenever she got in a fight with her husband.

While going through this, my mom was also dealing with not having a relationship with her father. My grandmother got pregnant to my mom around the age of eighteen from a handsome educated young man named Donald B Simpson. He was born in Canada and was of Indian descent. Both of his parents were born in the British West Indies, Jamaica. His family was very wealthy, and they did not approve of his relationship with my grandmother. They felt my grandmother was of lower class. He left her and went on to school at M.I.T for engineering.

My mother strongly blames my grandmother for driving him away by turning him off with the constant drama for money. She craved that fatherly affection that she was not getting from her mother. My mom said her mother never kissed, hugged, or said I love you. She was only good to my mom when people where around. Growing up with her mother, my mom was miserable and would spend hours sitting in her windowsill writing poems and stories. One time my mom wrote a biography, and her teacher became alarmed when she read the personal things my mom wrote in it. The school called my grandmother in and question her about what my mom wrote.

My mom did not see her father until the age of fourteen in court for child support. Her mother showed up with one legal aid lawyer and her father showed up with seven lawyers. This was the first time my mother and her father saw each other, and they stared and each other for a very long time. They looked identical to one another. He left her a fund for fifty thousand dollars that she could collect when she turned eighteen

My grandmother was able to get his address from court papers then gave it to my mother.

My mom went to his home and the doorman told her His wife just left. A few minutes later her father came down and walked up to her outside the building. Then he gave her back her picture she gave him in court of herself. He told her I don’t ever want to hear from you or your mother again, don’t look for me.

My mother saw him again in court a few years later when she was seventeen. On this day, my grandmother argued that my mother was not emotionally stable to handle the trust fund money and asked that she be awarded the fifty thousand dollars. She convinced the courts and was granted power over the money. My grandmother spent all the money on furnishing her apartment, buying her sons nice things, but only bought my mom a quilt set out of it.

Although her stepfather worked, the majority of the household income came from her child support. In addition, residual income came from my mother’s modeling gigs, commercial skits and acting as an extra in a movie. She did a skit for a coca cola commercial and graced the front cover of Tan Magazine 1965 edition. In addition, she played as an extra in the movie Up the Down Staircase and was offered an acting role in a soap opera called The Nurses’.

As for my dad. his parents were born in Puerto Rico and were Pentecostal during his childhood years. His parents later split and divorce due to his father’s affair with a young girl. This young girl was my grandmother’s friend and bible study student. My father’s dad was thirty-two and his new young mistress was only sixteen years of age. My grandfather and his newfound love both become Jehovah witness and my grandfather’s demeanor began to change into a strict and cold man.

After witnessing his mother suffer from depression because of the affair and her several attempts of suicide, it really took a toll on my father. He later joins the Navy and then Army and was honorably discharged from both. My dad joined the military to get away and this is what introduced him to drugs. Heroine helped him deal with Vietnam and till this day he suffers from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

After a visit back home from the navy, he came home to encounter a seduction by his new and young stepmother. On top of that, he had to call a woman stepmom who was closer to his age than his fathers and later makes a pass at him. She would come in the bathroom when he showered and massage him and touch on him until one day it tempts my dad to sleep with her. This is a huge a secret till this day my grandfather still does not know about-but now he will.

Before I came along, my mom already had two children from her first marriage to David Rios. My brother Christopher and my sister Penelope (raised by my grandmother). My mom gave my sister to my grandmother when she was around seven years old. The only sibling to grow up at home with my mother and brother Chris was me. My mother said she gave my sister to my mom because my grandmother was always calling and crying that she was lonely. This left my life only to involve me, my mom, and my brother. It was us three that will later go thru all the storms together.

My mom met my dad when he was the neighborhood mail carrier. Coincidently, they both lived in the same building. It was a building across the street from Roberto Clement Park that faced over the Hudson River. My mother was living there with my brother