Tangela Johnson isn't fond of handshakes.
She'll slap that outreached hand away almost as though she was offended. However, she is a hugger. She will smile widely and insist on a hug. Her embrace is short-lived, but its warmth lingers.
In her living room, dozens of framed photographs portraying her loved ones--children, grandchildren, extended family and friends--smile up at the onlooker.
Her trophies, her most treasured possessions, are the memories tied to them.
Even though she's living in subsidized housing, Johnson considers herself the richest she's ever been, and those photographs are proof she's right.
However, Johnson hasn't always been so opulent.
While growing up in Detroit, Mich., Johnson endured hardships.
At age 4, she was molested.
Fourteen years later, she was raped.
At 20, while "feeding off of the depression (she) was already in and trying to hide those secrets," she propelled herself into an emotionally, physically and verbally abusive marriage.
At a time in a young woman's life when she is flooded with opportunity and optimism, Johnson found herself spiraling into a life-threatening depression. She was a victim, and she knew it. Even worse, she believed that was all she could be.
"Is this me?," Johnson said looking down at the floor ashamedly.
"Is this all that I have? Is this what my life is about? I just kinda gave in to that. I felt like I didn't have anywhere else to go in my life."
"You can't feel sorry for yourself, and I found myself doing that. That was not me. That was not the woman God wanted me to be. I couldn't see myself being the victim all my life."
Had Johnson continued to victimize herself, her story may have ended there.
However, she took hold of her own fate the day she decided to leave Detroit, move herself and her family to Auburn and write her story down on paper.
"After everything I went through, God got me through it," Johnson said. "I'm here, and I'm here for a reason. It didn't kill me. It made me stronger, even though I gave up many times."
What started off as a self-medicating diary metamorphosed 12 years later into a self-published autobiography titled "Can a Storm be Weathered? Memoirs of a Broken Past." Going by the pen name Ta'Ressa, Johnson wrote about her life experiences, and she spared no details.
Ta'Ressa told Johnson's story and gave a needed voice to free herself of her past.
"I had to take things in my own hands and put it out there," Johnson said. "My book is basically about secrets--secrets we hold in our families--and that doesn't do anything but torment you.
"You hold that secret in so that your family doesn't get overwhelmed or embarrassed, but what about how you feel? My thing was to let my secret out. So, I let my secret out."
By releasing her secrets, this novel served as Johnson's agent to empower women in her neighborhood to come forward about their own abusive pasts and catalyze their recoveries.
Through her testimony, Johnson ministered inspiration and encouragement to those in similar situations.
"My book is [here] to let people know you don't have to stay where you are in life," Johnson said. "A lot of people like to carry their past with them, and they feed off of it, and it becomes a tool that they use to gather sympathy.
"Well, you ought to be saying, 'I'm a victor. I've got a testimony. This is where I came from.' I refuse to be broken, and you can always move forward."
Do you like this story? The Plainsman doesn't accept money from tuition or student fees, and we don't charge a subscription fee. But you can donate to support The Plainsman.
