Last week, I wrote “February 13th.” This upset a family member. They asked me to stop writing. They blamed me for the past. This isn’t the first time. But, this time hurt the most. I thought enough time had passed. I thought they reached out to support me. Instead, they reached out to blame me. I was sad. I am still a little sad. Being accused of lying by your own family. Your family is supposed to love you. And support you. Believe you. It’s hard and heartbreaking. I had to stop the conversation. Her words were full of hate
Let’s get this straight. I don’t want to write this. But, I need to write this. For the last 20 years, I have been sweeping February 13th under the rug. Now that I am sharing my story publicly, February 13th keeps showing up. It’s a bittersweet day for me. Two major life events happened on this day. Events that have changed the course of my life. One of them bitter. One of them sweet. The Bitter I was 11 years old. It was 9pm on February 13, 1997. A school night. My mom had just left to go wait tables
We had several dogs throughout my childhood, but I was never a dog person. We would keep them and then give them up when the responsibility became too much. Except Bella. We kept her longer than we should have. And when I think of how neglected she was, I want to cry. We had no business owning dogs. And for us, dogs were not part of the family. They were just animals that sat in the yard all day. And that’s exactly what Bella did. She sat in the yard everyday for seven years. No love, no attention. Simply neglected.
Every New Year I have the same resolution. Like many, it’s to lose weight. To be honest, it’s more of a daily goal. Every morning, I look in the mirror and my first thought is, “I need to lose weight.” I’ve been telling myself this every morning since I was 13. Living with this, “I’ve got to lose weight, I’ve got to lose weight” mindset for 20 years is exhausting. Regardless of how exhausting it’s been, I can’t seem to break this mindset. On New Year’s Day I declared to lose weight. Again. I even bought a scale from Target
I went to Color Me Mine with the intentions of making Rob a cookie jar with the UGA logo on it and I was going to fill the jar with muffins. Well Rob suddenly decided that he doesn’t like sweets anymore, so I filled the jar with poetic words instead… Merry Christmas to my husband. It would have been a lot easier to fill this thing with muffins. I love your silly dances. And how your not afraid to take chances. You make me very proud. You are starting to snore very loud. The thing I admire most about you.
Sunglasses have always been my shield. They’ve been my protection from being seen. They’ve made me feel more confident. They’ve provided a barrier of safety. With their dark lenses and large face hiding frames. Making eye contact impossible. Between me and the people around me. So that no one could see and get to know the real me. And why would they want to? Because if they knew the real me, they would never like me. So, I always wear my shield. Indoors, outdoors, sunny, rainy. And I would tell people it was because I don’t want eye wrinkles. And
Woke up one year older today, 32. My first thought was whether I’d hear from you. I haven’t heard from you in years, Sometimes it brings me to tears. On a day like today, I should be headed your way. To have spaghetti and steak, Followed by a strawberry filled yellow cake. Birthday dinners were the one thing you did best. It was the one day you put your anger to rest. Kitchen table stacked with gifts. Middle sister on the guitar like she’s Taylor Swift. You always made birthdays into a big event. Don’t
The typical “About” page is usually light and fluffy. But mine is far from it. I am scared shitless right now after posting it. Along with being disturbed, frustrated, angry and sad. I have never shared something so honest and real in my life. Even though what I wrote is nothing new to me. It’s something I have lived with for more than two decades. There is something about writing it and talking about it that makes it real. After posting my story, I took a long shower and cried. Something I would never allow myself to do
I am the girl who didn’t speak up. The girl who was sexually abused and raped by two men in her family. The girl who kept the men’s secrets for fear of causing trouble. The girl who thought it was all her fault. The girl who told herself it’s not that bad. Just brush it off and be strong. I am the girl who contemplated suicide throughout her life because it was that bad. I am the daughter of a mother that called her a liar when she finally did speak up. I am the girl who HATES her mother. And as sick