About Me — Paul Marsh

Tough times don’t last; tough people do

Image of Author supplied by Author

Hello everyone!

My name is Paul Marsh. I’m a soon-to-be 32-year-old from Philadelphia, PA. In order to give you a full picture of who I am, I’m going to break my life down into sections — 1–10, 11–20, 21–30, and 30 and beyond.

Read on to learn more about me as a person.

1–10-years old

I was born July 13th at Sacred Heart Hospital in Allentown, PA, a suburb of Philadelphia about 30 miles from the big city.

My earliest memory is from the age of four. I woke up abruptly during the early hours of the morning.

Instead of just lying there and waiting for sleep to find me again, I got up and ran downstairs. I don’t know what I was looking for; I just knew I didn’t want to be in my room anymore.

I found my mother in the living room with all the lights for the entertainment center on. I ran over to the couch and took a seat.

All I did was study my mom. Her mannerisms. The intensity in her voice as she prayed. Her occasional glance in my direction.

That was the age of four.

At the age of five, I had a meltdown when I was sent to kindergarten. I’m a proud life-long Mama’s boy. I’ve been this way since I was a child.

My teacher, Mrs. Dodd, did her due diligence to get me to stop sobbing. She succeeded. I liked her instantly.

I learned I had a speech impediment in first grade. I couldn’t pronounce my R’s — it came out as if I was pronouncing W’s.

A really red apple became a weally wed apple. It was embarrassing.

I had my first crush in fifth grade at the age of 10. Her name was Ashley Guzman. She liked me too, but both of us were too young to understand the complexities surrounding interracial relationships.

The first ten years of my life were some of the best years. I had both parents. My siblings and I got along great. We lived in a nice home with stability.

It was the years to come that would prove more challenging than anything else.

11–20-years-old

At the age of 11, my siblings and I were placed in foster care.

Our dad was the sole income earner in our household. Our mother took care of the home. My dad’s temper got the best of him in ways I still don’t understand.

One thing led to another, and he was arrested and deported back to Nigeria, his birthland.

Our mother did her best to take care of us, but she struggled mightily. After a few short months, the funds she used to keep things going dried up.

We ended up in foster care not too long after.

This began the process of bouncing from foster home to foster home. Most people, even with government assistance, don’t want to take in five children.

For a brief point in time, I was separated from my siblings until a house big enough to accommodate us all could be found.

Our time in foster care ended when I was 14 years old. We were taken in by our cousins from Philadelphia.

They moved us from the Allentown area to Pottstown, PA, a more affluent suburban environment. The goal was to send us to a great high school that propelled us to a good college. From there we’d become cash cows. I kid you not.

We were formally adopted by our money-hungry cousins when I was going on 16 years old, in March 2010.

I graduated from high school at 17 — a result of my late summer birthday. At 18, I ventured off to Temple University, the flagship college in Philadelphia.

At 19, I transferred to the University of Arkansas after my adoptive father got a job with Walmart, a company headquartered in Bentonville, AR. The cultural differences left me shocked when we arrived at our new home.

Cows and farmland were everywhere, the roads were nicely paved, and the humidity could induce fainting spells.

Relocating to Arkansas from Pennsylvania was a blessing in disguise — I was just too young to realize it.

21–30-years-old

In true American fashion, my 21st birthday was spent buying and consuming as much alcohol as I could without falling over.

21 is also the age I lost my virginity. I chose to wait and not lose it in high school because 1) high school boys don’t know what they’re doing and 2) I wanted it to matter.

My girlfriend at the time was an older female named Shelby. That relationship lasted 18 months. It’s still my longest relationship to date.

At 22, I landed a great job with the Target Corporation as an Executive Team Leader overseeing logistics for the company’s 2nd flagship store. A team of 35 individuals and myself all unloaded trucks and stocked the salesfloor so guests could find what they were looking for with ease.

Also at 22, I met Evangeline, my girlfriend for 14 months. I thought she was “the one.” Looking back, I’m grateful that relationship didn’t blossom into marriage. I know now I would’ve been a bitter, miserable man with her.

At 24, I was hired by Amazon as an Operations Manager. The job relocated me to the Chicagoland from Arkansas, something I was desperate for. I helped launch a last mile logistics warehouse with 400 direct reports.

I ended up leaving that role to focus on getting my master’s degree. It’s still one of the best experiences I had working full-time.

When I was 25, I decided to take a career break. Instead of working, I took all of 2019 off to get better as a multi-faceted writer, or someone who writes in more than one discipline.

I chose to focus almost exclusively on screenwriting. It’s something that I was deeply interested in. I still remember the early drafts from the competitions I submitted to.

They’re TRASH. But that’s how you see things when you’ve grown as a writer or artist. I worked on my craft day in and day out. I sacrificed sleep for it.

After 6 months, I was invited to a luncheon hosted by the National Hispanic Media Coalition. That was where I met my mentor, Barbie Kligman. She’s been helping me develop as a writer since then, with plans to create a sellable TV pilot.

At 28, I became a felon. It’s something I’m still coming to terms with. I was arrested for allegedly committing two felonies. Instead of going to court and fighting my case, I was offered two years' probation and an immediate release from jail if I took a plea deal saying I committed the felonies.

I chose to take it because my mental health suffered behind bars. Since then, I’ve struggled to find work and rely on my entrepreneurial mindset to make ends meet.

I lost my mother at 29. She was only 58 years old. She died in Nigeria, surrounded by family, but thousands of miles away from her children.

30 and beyond

My 30th birthday was spent in Tulsa, OK, a city I was forced to relocate to after everything fell apart in Chicago.

I spent it with my younger birthday reflecting on life and family.

As I approach my 32nd birthday, I think a lot about my younger days, specifically my 20’s.

It was a hard decade in a lot of ways, chock full of losses and lessons. The few good things that happened always seemed to be short-lived. But life wasn’t unbearable. I still found ways to make lifelong memories and have fun.

I miss those days at times. It’s taught me to appreciate the here and now, because time really does flies by. So as 32 draws near, I plan to make the most of it and the rest of my 30’s.

The 20’s were for lessons. The 30’s are for blessings.

Wish me luck as I attempt to catch as many blessings as possible.