Excerpt: Robin Givens' "Grace Will Lead Me Home"

In her new memoir, Robin Givens discusses life before and after Mike Tyson.

ByABC News via logo
February 10, 2009, 10:23 AM

June 6, 2007 — -- Most people know Robin Givens as boxer Mike Tyson's ex-wife. But, in her new memoir, "Grace Will Lead Me Home," the actress goes beyond the tabloid sensation that was her volatile marriage and recounts a domestic violence legacy that has haunted her family for three generations.

Her book reveals that even after Givens divorced Tyson, her campaign of destruction continued.

In the end, Givens credits motherhood for providing her with clarity. "Grace Will Lead Me Home" is her redemption story.

Here's an excerpt.

I have known of God all of my life. I was raised Catholic, going to mass every Sunday. When we had a special request of God we said the Rosary,and if we were even more concerned we resorted to novenas. I believed in God and, from every indication, God believed in me. Of course Iwanted God to be pleased with me, but most of all I wanted God to make me happy ... and indeed the relationship was quite rewarding. But ritualand even religion do not ensure a relationship with God. It is by experiencing God that we get to know him ... and it is in knowing God,truly knowing God, that we get to know ourselves. After years of ritual and religion, I was finally introduced to God by Michael. I can say thatsurely I know God by name. God has a way of getting your attention and making sure you never forget. For me this relationship is ... home.

I awakened at my usual time, though it had been a late night, especially for the boys. I had let them stay up until just after we blew our horns, threw our confetti, and kissed one another -- Happy New Year! They were in the deep and peaceful sleep that childhood permits, the kind of restful sleep that grown-ups envy, since it brings such greatcomfort and renewal. On my way to the kitchen, I stopped to close Buddy's bedroom door. I lingered for a moment. He practically looked like a man now at twelve years old, sprawled out in a bed that until recently swallowed him up. We really need to have some more shelves built, I thought, before continuing down the hall. Buddy isrunning out of room for his tennis trophies. I reached Billy's room next. Before I closed that door, I took a moment and smiled, as I breathedin the fragrance of yet another blessing -- my golden-haired six-year-old boy. Life has been good to me, I thought.

I headed through the living room and toward the kitchen. Draped in a big, shaggy throw, my sister Stephanie was asleep on the sofa. Wehad stayed up late sipping a little champagne and sharing some resolutions, but mostly reminiscing about Christmas holidays as kids. Shedecided to spend the night and was sleeping as peacefully as the boys. I stood at the doorway to the kitchen and realized the boys wouldbe much more excited about chocolate croissants than with my making eggs. I turned and tiptoed back to my bedroom, not wanting todisturb anybody. I grabbed my down coat and a pair of boots from the closet. I felt eager now. The time alone would be as much a treatfor me as the croissants would be for the boys. I stuffed the flannel pajama pants I was wearing into my boots.

"Where are you going?" Stephanie asked, pushing her long dreadlocks to one side as she lifted her head from the pillow."Sorry, I was trying not to wake you," I apologized. "I'm going to get some breakfast for the boys. I was thinking about chocolatecroissants. Do you want something?" "Chocolate?" She thought for a moment, fluffed the pillow, and lay her head back down. "Too sweet for me . . . make mine plain.""I won't be gone long," I assured her, as I eased out of the apartment. And she simply answered, "We're fine. Take your time."

I stepped out into a bright day that felt more like the anticipation of spring than the dead of winter. Not knowing quite where I was headed,I walked. Alone for a rare moment, enjoying the silence, able to hear my own thoughts -- I kept walking. I took deep breaths along the way,refreshed by the crispness of the cool air. I replayed every moment of this holiday in my mind as I walked across Fifty-fourth Street and headed north. I passed Petrossian'swhere, on Christmas Eve, Mom and Stephanie had surprised me with a belated birthday celebration. "Rob, can we take a break now?"Stephanie had asked, pretending to be tired of shopping for toys.They indulged me with champagne and caviar, and we laughed for what seemed like hours. It was like old times.