All About Me!

Seeing as it is the first day of one of the best months ever, I decided to go ahead and create a blog post in which you all get to learn a little more about me! Happy spooky season.

Who Am I?

I was born in 2000 in Michigan- the Mitten. My childhood days consisted of living with my grandparents from my "father's" side. Every now and then, we would move into a different house and always end up back with my grandparent's two-story white farmhouse which homed a barn and pole barn. The land they had was huge- the front and backyard was a dream-come-true for my imaginative self.

Some days were worse than others as a kid but not everyone's lives are perfect. Some days, the screaming was worse than others. Some days, the amount of love flowing through the house was bizarre. Some days, he touched me more than others. Ever since I could remember, my "father" molested me. Whenever my grandparents asked me about it for some odd reason, I told them what was going on. It seemed like I was gently shut down- my "father" only disappearing for a little while then came back to what he was good at: scaring me.

I actually never spoke up about what was going on again til later in 2016- almost ten years later, I am assuming. I was young when a lot of these things happen yet I have vague memories. I wish I didn't have these. But here they are, playing in the back of my mind ever so often.

My grandparents ended up getting a divorce in 2010 or 2011. I hated it. I loved them both so much and I was confused as to what made them fall out of love. It killed a little piece of me and it's still gone to this day. I never saw my grandpa again after they officially got a divorce and we went over to the farmhouse- after moving a couple cities away which I started fifth grade. We were packing everything of Grandma's and I guess even a lot of Grandpa's stuff. He came over but I don't remember whether or not we said goodbye or not.

That was the last time I saw him. I remember around Christmas, he came to give us Christmas presents. I knew about this happening because him and I would text. But soon, my parents caught me and told me I can't talk to him. We never did get those presents. They never made it inside the house. I remember he came over with them, happy that he would be able to spend a holiday with his grandchildren. My mom and "dad" shut him down real quick.

He left the presents on the front porch in hopes we would be able to open them. We never did.

I began fifth grade and decided to take up cheer-leading. That actually lasted one season because when basketball rolled around, I decided to try that also. And I enjoyed every second of those four years playing basketball with my girls.

There is a vague memory of a time in home room where we had to write a narrative on a specific topic; what that topic was? I can't remember. My story had something to do with my younger brother- he is seven years younger than me. My teacher called me up to her desk- her name was Mrs. Moore and she had a skinny oval shaped head with glasses. Everyone was doing work and talking while she graded our papers. She broke my heart. Mrs. Moore explained how awful my writing was- she said this to a fifth grader. She also stated my thoughts were scattered and I never wanted to read or write again in my life. Because of a fifth grade teacher.

When I turned thirteen, I was in seventh grade I believe. This was when I needed an outlet. My depression grew and I learned about self-harm. The molestation was still happening and no one knew about it besides me and him.

There was a boy-band named 'One Direction' that I had become obsessed with. If you have read my earlier blogs, you know I began writing fan-fictions about them which people enjoyed reading on Wattpad. I needed this to save me from myself and everyone around me including family. Every day, there was new drama from my grandma about my grandpa. Sometimes, she would actually start accusing my parents of things. I remember one of our last Christmas's in Michigan. It was awful. The family got together at our house- me, my sister and brother, mom and "dad", Grandma, my cousin, and my "dad's" sister who we rarely saw for reasons I learn later on in life.

We had taken our family pictures- everyone smiling and acting as if we weren't a messed up family. And hiding the fact that this man is hurting me. The perfect family portrait. Smiles hiding lies and secrets. Dinner was good- I always loved home cooked meals for holidays. There was a tradition we did on Christmas Eve for all the kids. We would all get a pair of new pajamas, a Christmas book and a packet of hot chocolate. My "dad" would read all the books while we were relaxing in our pajamas, sipping hot chocolate.

Our cousin was staying the night and so was my Grandma. My siblings, my cousin and myself all stayed in my room since it was bigger than my sister and brother's. We were all giggly at the joy of Santa leaving presents for us tonight. Then, the screaming began. Between all the adults in the house. I had to comfort all the kids while holding my own tears back because I had no clue what was happening. Later on, I learned my "dad" tried to get my aunt to do things outside right before the yelling happened, while she went to smoke a cigarette. He got pissed and started making things up to piss my Grandma off and it was a yelling match from there.

In 2015, we packed our bags and moved down to Georgia for a job offer my "dad" got. We lived in a house where only half of the house had working water and electricity. It was awkward, honestly. Something happened with the owner being behind on bills so we got the bad end of the deal. They turned off our electricity and water. I remember using our red truck with transmission problems to charge our phones and heat water up for bathes.

Around Christmas time in 2015, we moved into a camper a couple cities away in Braselton, GA. Here, I end up meeting my husband who was my neighbor- how cliche is that? My writing kind of slowed but I couldn't do anything about it, really. We used electricity and water from our neighbors house since the electric company couldn't approve us getting it set up for some odd reason- I do not know.

In August, I end up telling my mom about my "dad" still molesting me. He denied it the whole time I was speaking. All she could muster up was, "I can't believe this is my family." I was shut down again and decided I would never speak on it again. Because no one would help me. Despite me meeting the love of my life, I wasn't allowed to see or speak to him. My depression was far worse than anything I have dealt with in my life- I didn't know how to handle to. I was going to kill myself. With a coke can, by slicing my wrist. My sister ended up saving me- she now knows this. She explained to me that what was happening to me, was happening with her. And I knew I had to make it my mission to protect my siblings and talk to someone in school.

On October third, 2016, we entered foster care.

What Has Foster Care Taught Me?

Foster care ended up teaching me a lot of things I overlooked going through these things. I was in there for two years until I turned eighteen in 2018 and moved to Tennessee. Our first home was a blessing from Heaven. The parents cared so deeply about every single kid they got in their care. The family was big- with us three with them, the house held eleven people. Three of which were children there were fostering and getting ready to adopt one/three. To this day, all three are adopted, in which they have had to move someplace bigger so they could continue taking children in. They were the parents I never had, and I loved watching the babies. Their biological kids were good friends to my siblings and I. I will forever be thankful for them.

Never hide the truth- you must always be honest when you're in care- especially during court. The truth will eventually come out. As for me, I have experienced so much with the molestation, I didn't remember some things until half way through the court process over the span of two years. Most people will assume you're then lying if you say you just remembered something. Know this: only you know the truth as well as God. If you know you are telling the truth, that is ALL that matters. Never let anyone belittle you or anything. You have to be strong during these times.

I ended up living in a group home from January 2017 until September. I experienced so much within this group home for girls around my age- good and bad. One thing I learned is this: mental illness is literally everywhere. You never know what people go through on a daily basis in their head and I have witnessed it first hand with multiple girls coming through the home. Mental illness needs to be talked about more because you would be surprised at just how many people suffer from it. And because of this, I know it is okay to have bad days. You're not going to be happy all the time, especially being in foster care.

One of the hardest things I have learned is to forgive others. I am still learning to this day. Seriously, you need to do it for yourself, mentally, rather than for them. Most importantly, learn to forgive yourself.

Throughout this process, depending on your situation, you will learn about your family. You think you know them but you really don't. Family secrets that were once buried deep eventually get dug up. Remember how I said to tell the truth? Exactly. It's also important to remember this: not everyone is guilty.

My Present Life

After moving to Tennessee in 2018, I just moved down to Mississippi. About forty minutes from the coast! Right now, my husband and I have four animals; two bunnies named Luno and Mr. Holly. We recently got Luno recently. He is a mini lop. Mr. Holly is a mini Holland lop. We have had him for about four months now. Just last night we had a close call with him passing away. I've been keeping an eye on him- I will probably end up having to take him to the vet. Prayers are welcomed!

*Luno is black and white. Mr. Holly is brown-colorish.

We also have two dogs. Sam is our oldest. He is two years old and a lab/pitbull and he is brown. He is a big baby. We also have Buddy who is almost a year old and he is a Border Collie/husky.

I would also like to take the time to remember our pitbull who passed away unexpectedly on August 1st of 2019. We had him only for six months- it wasn't long enough. He was so smart and a sweetheart. His color was all white besides a few blue spots on his ears. He also had the prettiest blue eyes. His name was Diesel. We went through hell with Diesel. When we got him, he came with fleas and worms. So we had to treat all three dogs. Later on, he began losing fur and his skin was super red. We then learned he suffered from mange. He would have to get a special bath every day then to once a week. He started healing up so well and was beautiful as ever. I don't think my heart will ever heal from losing such a brilliant dog.