Women were not made to be raped.

My step-brother Ivan raped me. I was 10 years old.

He wasn’t the first person to ever violate me or my body (that I know of anyway). My sister’s husband molested me when I was 4. I am nearly 30 years old and I still remember that certain event clearly. He told me to put my shorts down and he rubbed my private area outside of my underwear. That’s what I remember along with other details. I don’t know exactly what else happened and if he did anything else.

When I was 10, my step brother Ivan raped me. It wasn’t forced, not everything anyway. At age 10, I developed what only grown people should feel. I developed feelings for him. It’s absolutely absurd that at that young age someone could feel things in a romantic way for someone who should know better. Worse that they took advantage of it.

I was 10 and he was 17. I was a child and he violated me. I am pretty sure he had other victims, but only one other person that I know of besides me. When he first started violating me, I saw it as completely normal behavior although I knew it was wrong.

I spoke up about what my sister’s husband did. I’m not completely sure if my mom made a police report. She stated that she did but I never saw anything come of it. I saw him a couple of times after that. I know that I was angry about it. I didn’t feel listened to. I wasn’t heard. No therapy, nothing occured. I remember my mom conversing with my sister about it in the car. My sister stated that he said he didn’t do it but to call the cops “if she wants”. My sister didn’t leave him after that. She didn’t. Although I know she was his victim as well, I felt betrayed by her. I still feel now she enabled him.

So when Ivan raped me, I felt guilt. I felt like he didn’t exactly do anything wrong. I was even guilted when I told him no. He was hurting me and I screamed “No!”. He then told me he would never touch me again, as if he was doing me a favor. I felt like I had done something wrong. I felt shame for not dealing with the pain. I mean, I had feelings for him. I spoke up about it to my mom but then I said it was a joke. I constantly tried to speak up about it but again, I said I was only kidding. I guess I was scared that it would be ignored just like it was when I was 4. Plus, I doubted my mom would have done anything about it. I was scared to admit, maybe to myself that he did anything wrong. I protected him. I protected my abuser. I did.

I spoke up about it when I was 16. He denied it of course.

I still feel disgusted about it and now that my brain has developed a lot more; I realize how being raped has been normalized. We speak about it but no one hears us. No one wants to hear about it and they still expect you to shove it under the rug. We are still called liars, and we are blamed for their actions. We are told, “Well, you clearly wanted it!”. What I needed was therapy, and not be violated even more!“. I did not deserve to be violated by these men.

However, these weren’t the only men that took advantage of me. The next thing to come was that I coped by having sex with other men. I was 12 years old. Many still would say that ” I pursued them”. Yes, I did. I pursued the majority of these men. They saw a young unloved child and instead of sending me home, they took advantage of it”. I am not holding them responsible for my actions. I am holding them responsible for theirs! They ALL knew my age. They knew how old I was but they didn’t care about that. I have come to the conclusion that some men don’t care about doing the right thing as long as it benefits them. They will do whatever to get their penis wet.

I can tell you that I trusted a few mandated reporters about this. Instead, they told my mom. They didn’t do anything to actually help me. Instead, they condemned me. I understand that they couldn’t keep an eye on me 24/7 and I understand that I have some responsibility in that but it was their moral responsibility to do whatever to help me even if it was not in their job description. However, as mandated reporters they had to do something, yet they didn’t. They slut shamed me instead. They didn’t care to find the root cause.

I have never shared this part of my life with my family. I have felt very ashamed of my past. I have felt the same shame that many other girls have felt. Those girls that have been told to keep silent, those that share similar stories as myself. In this society, we defend rapists, especially men because we are protectors, and enablers. We feel like it’s our need to nurture because WE HAVE BEEN TAUGHT THAT WHATEVER HAPPENS TO US IS OUR FAULT. Now, this may not apply to all men because it’s obvious that some men are falsely accused, and wrongfully convicted. Also, women can rape too. I am fully aware of this. We all protect our own and we enable them. We don’t hold them responsible because all of our lives, we have been taught that rapists are not at fault. We somehow are responsible for them raping us. We excuse them as if they have no control over themselves. We as women, are supposed to be modest, mothering, spiritual, caretakers. We are supposed to not be provocative and we are supposed to not wear revealing clothes because men have no self control. We act like men are helpless and we love to blame women for everything. It’s as if we’re blamed for having a vagina; as if having a vagina automatically disqualifies us, or means that we’re less. We are not less important than men.

This is what I was taught growing up by my family, by the people around me, the people on TV. This is what we are teaching these boys, these men. Now, I know many amazing men but the things some do to us is excruciating and it needs to stop. We need to do better. Apparently we need to teach everyone regardless of gender not to rape (although it should be a given!) And we need to not silence those that speak up or try to.

I am not attacking ALL men. I am attacking those that RAPE and those that enable these rapists to continue doing these evil, and atrocious acts. I am bluntly calling out all rapists. Those that were in my life, and those of others.

All that happened to me destroyed part of me and it really disoriented me in ways that no one will ever understand. I didn’t understand it in the moment and I coped in the most ironic ways.

These men that have raped, and are currently raping should not be enabled to continue their ways. They need to be stopped. We all have a story to share. Whether you’re a female or a male that has been raped, you should never feel like what happened to you is not worth sharing. I am not protecting abusers. I have been done protecting Ivan and people like him. I am not 10 years old anymore! I am protecting the victims that have been silenced way too long.

We were once victims but now we are survivors. These men that were once part of my life, that violated and raped me will no longer EVER have a hold on me. They didn’t break me. I put the pieces back together and got back up again. My step-brother, these men will forever be rapists. This may not mean anything to them and they may never feel an ounce of guilt and that is okay. Their feelings don’t matter to me but truth does.

The truth is that I was violated and I know I am not the only one. I know that I’m not alone in this. I was taught that I had to feed men’s ego because only their voice counts. What they say is what matters and our voice means nothing. We are damned for speaking our mind, our truth. We are belittled, and shamed for being outspoken and for falling victim to someone else’s cruel actions. We are told that our truth means nothing if a man does not agree.

I say now that we deserve to be treated with respect, and we deserve to not be violated. We deserve to set boundaries and be valued.

We are not less, or better. We are WOMEN and we are not made to be raped.

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Let it go.

I got this tattoo yesterday. It is very cliche, however, it is something that I have wanted for a very long time. I remember being a kid and I always loved Dandelions’. I chose the phrase, “Let it go” for many reasons. One of them being all the anger and pain I have felt for a very long time. The words that I left unsaid to those that have hurt me. To everything I went through with my ex, the man that I loved with all of my heart. The years that I spent so confused after many traumatizing events in my life. The sadness of never truly having a mother, or the love of one. To the times that I spent crying when I was in juvenile hall in Los Angeles. To let go of all the things that still haunt me and the people that have hurt me, and all the judgments I have about myself. For absolutely everything that is still holding me back.

I think we all judge ourselves worse than anyone else ever could. We pretend we don’t care but deep down we really do. I guess it’s true… When you truly stop caring about what others think about you, that is when you are truly free. I want to get there someday and I hope that we all can too. We have spent so many years dwelling on others opinions. We spend too much time trying to create an image for someone else and we lose focus on what is truly important. Ourselves. I want to let go of all the pain and all the people that have done me wrong. I want to be free and care only about what truly is important. I want to leave everything behind me and move forward. I don’t want to care anymore about the people that have shown their evil colors. I don’t want to care about what others may think of me. I want to stop trying to not be human. It seems like the most human thing we do is try to not be human. We want to be something or someone else. For me, that’s not the case anymore. I want to be my best self. I want to be that mom, person, and friend you can go to. That person you know will always have good intentions. I want to be an adventurist. I want to live and not merely survive but live.

I want to let it go. Let go of it all and be free. I want to thrive in this insanely crazy world. I want to show the world that nothing can stop me and although pain will always be there, I can manage. I always have and I always will.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s been awhile

It has been awhile since I’ve written on here. I got a little discouraged, I guess. I lost sense of myself for awhile and I’m just now barely trying to get myself back. I’m not saying that I had my stuff together when I first started writing. Like many say, we are a work in progress. When I first started writing on here, I was working at a call center that I hated. My emotional health was out of whack. I was super depressed and angry. I hated my job. I really did. I don’t think that kind of work is for me. I now have been working at a different call center and things aren’t perfect, but I am happy where I’m at. My mental health is better but there’s still a lot to work on. I will get where I need to be.

I have been at this job for the past 10 months. I have grown so much and I have made a lot of friends there. I have also inquired new people that I dislike. I’ve learned what people are truly capable of but I feel like I’m in a good place right now. I have plans that will change my kids and I future. I plan to be closer to my sister. I should’ve chosen to be near her to begin with but I was scared. I don’t fully regret moving to Idaho. I have met amazing people and I have found a strength that I never knew I had inside of me. I have worked hard to be where I’m at now and I am not done trying to improve my life. I am truly so grateful for all the people that I have met since I came back to Idaho. I’m grateful for the good and bad. I am grateful for everything. I guess the reason why I didn’t choose to be near my sister, is not because I didn’t want to be near her. It was because I have been scared of my ex. I am scared of his actions, his words and the things that he could continue to do to me. He doesn’t see how wrong he has been and I know I have my faults, too. However, I can no longer let him hold so much over me. I can’t let him have this much power over me any longer. I want to live and do what I need to for my children as I always have.

He has been pretty aggressive towards me ever since moving here. I’m sure a lot couldn’t blame him…. I mean, I did move over 900 miles away. Sure, it doesn’t make a difference that for years I was never more than 20 miles away and he was rarely around. It honestly feels like he was much more involved when I agreed to get back together with him. Of course, he claims that I’m keeping our son away. I have made so much effort for him to be involved, yet he continues to be verbally abusive. I hope that one day we can co-parent like we should not for our sake, but our sons’ well being. That’s all that should matter anyway.

So I have my own apartment now. I moved in about 8 months ago and of course it is expensive but I love it. There is so much more privacy. My kids share a room but they still manage to end up in my bed. The only issue I guess I could say is that it’s so hard to keep up with the cleaning at my apartment. I guess that has always been my issue but it’s even harder when I work 40 hours a week, while trying to run errands and spend time with my kids. I’ll have to figure a way to get it all done though. I really need to. I want to instill that cleanliness is godliness in my kids and I know it starts with me. My mom really tried to instill that in me but I guess the way she went about it was the wrong way. I really want to be that mom but I find so much difficulty in everything. I just want the best for my kids but it honestly seems like I can never do anything right. I know most of it is the mom guilt but I’m definitely trying to improve everything. I have many flaws but I can only work towards one flaw at a time.

I have been working towards cutting down on junk food. This is one of my biggest struggles. I love food and food has always been there for me. Food has always supported me when I’m sad, happy, depressed or angry. I guess it just makes me fat with possible health issues as a punishment. I have been trying and sadly, I don’t feel like I have been succeeding at all. I have stopped buying Sprite constantly and I don’t have too much junk food at home but I still do. It is so hard to discipline myself after all. My mom tried when I was younger with very little results. She shamed me for my weight and I guess even when she did, I still always turned to food. Whenever I felt lonely, food was there for me so It’s really hard to just stop everything at a whim. However, I am doing my best. I want to be healthy and be a better mom for my kids. I am starting to care more about myself than I ever did before and I think I like it.

No matter the struggles, or hardships I will always need to do what I need to for my children. I want to do better and be better for my children. After all, they deserve it. They really do. They are such great kids and I love them both so much. I never thought this would be my life. I never thought that I could love two human beings this much. I always thought that I would be alone. I always felt like I was alone and honestly, I truly was. However, now I am not alone. I have two children right beside me. Two children that depend on me to teach them right from wrong. Two little ones that think I’m pretty and that I am supermom. I find it unbelievable that through all my flaws, they still believe that I am the best mom in the world. No matter how much I yell, or how many mistakes I make… They still love me and have so much hope for me. They know my flaws and they have seen me at my worst and still love me anyway. They believe in me and know that I want and am doing my best for them. They are my motivation for absolutely everything. I believe that they were placed under my care for a reason. A reason bigger than myself. I am the one that is chosen to be their mother and I could never take that for granted. I love my kids and I will fight for them until the last days of my life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My First Turning Point

I am 28 years old and I can never forget this turning point in my life. Why? Because it changed everything. It changed absolutely everything in my life; in more ways that I could have imagined. I haven’t forgotten about it and I don’t think I could ever. I’m not sure if I feel resentment or if i’m just angry. Maybe both. I just know that I could never forget that voice and most importantly, I could never forget how he made me feel.

He made me feel many different emotions and they were emotions I have never ever felt before. Emotions that a 10 year old child should never ever feel. The memories of this still haunt me. I’m not sure if it’s guilt or just pain. The guilt I feel is for not speaking up when I should have. I have been blaming myself for this for years and I know that I shouldn’t but I can’t help myself. The pain is because even at this age, it still bothers me. It bothers me that it happened to me and it happened to others as well. I know i’m not the only one but at that time I thought I was the only one.

His name is Ivan Garcia. He was my step-brother. He was 17 years old and he moved in with us along with his dad who eventually married my mom. I first met him at a Christmas party where my mom would go take english classes. My first thought of him was that he was rude. I was right. He was very rude and in many ways. When he moved in, I felt a silly childhood crush but I knew that somehow or someway, it was different. I have no idea what to say or why on earth I had developed this feelings for him. I was just a child but I was a bigger set girl and at the age of 10, I was already developing breasts. My mom moved him and his dad in right away. I had maybe seen him 2 times and his dad a couple of times. I didn’t really like his dad but I liked the fact that he bought me chocolate. Of course, that is what he did so I could like him. The way to get to my heart is giving me chocolate. I guess they were kicking them out of their place so of course my mom decided to be a helping hand.

He was sleeping in the couch downstairs and it was so weird to have a young guy there. I would stay downstairs with him at night sometimes just watching TV. I would observe his small little habits and the music he would listen to. Summer soon approached and that’s when it all started. He would call me in the mornings so I could give him massages. Of course, I did. One thing always led to another. We didn’t have sex or anything. It was pure massages. I hated it but I enjoyed touching his body. It was completely different but I felt excited to be close to him. And I did. I sure did. One time when my mom left somewhere with his dad, and my younger sister; he asked for another massage. This time it was different though. He wanted me to massage all of his body including his butt. I did.

As time progressed, he would play music from Eminem and he would dry hump me. I didn’t really quite understand what he was trying to achieve. Eventually, he would lay me on my stomach and hold my growing breasts. He also let me hold his dick. Eventually, I started questioning everything that was going on. I confronted him and I told him that I was going to tell my mom. He got defensive and said that he would tell her too. He went up the stairs and I said to forget it. The next time, he didn’t just dry hump me while I laid on my stomach. He then told me to go take a shower. Two days later, I had already begun my period for the first time ever. He didn’t care. Once again, I was on my stomach but this time it hurt a lot more. I told him to stop and he just wouldn’t. I eventually screamed out “No” and he let me get up. He was upset and told me he would never touch me again.

He never did. It felt as if somehow I had done something wrong. I felt embarrassed and ashamed of myself. He discarded me as if I meant nothing. It was so strange how all of that had happened. I was jut a child and I was infatuated with my step-brother. That is very common and things usually don’t happen. I never thought it would and what I thought what I wanted to happen wasn’t even close to what had happened. I didn’t know about sex. I didn’t know anything at all about that. That is not what I wanted from him. My mind didn’t even cross that path but somehow I still felt guilty. I felt like I wanted it. I mean, I did have a crush on him. I felt like since it was consensual, I didn’t have a right to complain. Why would I complain? I made it obvious that I had a crush on him and he did exactly what he thought I wanted. At least that’s how I felt.

That was the first time I ever said no to a man and I learned that was a really bad thing to do. It felt worse to be discarded the way that I did. I couldn’t understand what I did so wrong. It hurt and I even bled. He moved on as if nothing happened and I just felt shame. I felt wanted at first and then I felt like I was thrown away. So many emotions put in to one. Emotions that I have never felt before. Like i said it was the biggest turning point in my life.

I feel really nervous and embarrassed to even share this story online where just anyone could see. This is something that took my years to speak up about and I only did when I learned that it happened to someone close to me. It happened to someone else too and had I gone up those stairs with him that day with him to tell my mom, maybe I could have prevented it. Sadly enough, I’m still not sure if it would have. I was a child who was desperate for affection. I’m not sure if that is the kind of attention that I was seeking but it is what I got. Ever since that experience, my life drastically changed. I was ashamed of myself.

I spoke up about it when I was 16 years old. Of course, no one believed me and I confronted him on the phone. He denied that it ever happened as if I made it up. Police did get involved and I got questioned to talk about everything that happened and I went into detail. But it was too late. He was never arrested over this. There was just not enough evidence even though there were two people accusing him of this. We just spoke on it way too late. Maybe he was not arrested but life will eventually get him sooner or later. I believe that. The most ironic thing that happened was that the day after I confessed to everyone what Ivan had done, my stepdad’s finger got cut off by a lawnmower. Of course, I felt for him. However, I didn’t understand if he was being punished for his sons’ mistakes. Years later, I found out that he had molested someone close to me as well. Both of them are horrible people and there is no one that can convince me otherwise.

Even though I didn’t fully speak up about it when it happened, I have to say is that I did give out a lot of clues. I told my mom that it had happened but when she questioned me about it… Each time I would say I was joking so it was as if she was relieved that I said that each time. I don’t think it would have made a difference really. I don’t think she would have kicked him out. It’s sad to say and although I love my mom and miss her dearly, she didn’t protect me enough. She failed at protecting me. She had one job and she allowed to strange men to come into our home. No, I don’t hold her responsible but she wasn’t careful. No one ever wants to think that anyone would hurt or do anything to their loved ones. Statistics state that it usually happens by someone you know and it is definitely true. It is true. The moment I “joked” about it, my mom should not have been relieved I said it was a joke. She should have looked into it a little bit more. She should have taken me seriously. I was a 10 year old child who “joked” about having sex with her step-brother and she did nothing about it. In no way or form am I blaming my mother for what he did. I just don’t agree with her decisions and I don’t think it was right that she moved in complete strangers into our home. I also think she should have taken me seriously the first time I told her even if I said I was “Joking”. I only said I was because I was scared to upset her. I didn’t want to upset her and I didn’t want to upset him. I was protecting him.

I still feel as if I have some responsibility in this. Whether I do or I don’t, it happened already and it can happen to anyone. He isn’t a good person, and never will I ever think anything good from him. I was raped when I was 10 years old and because it was consensual; it doesn’t lessen what he did. Maybe I said yes… However, can a child at 10 years old really consent? At that age, I was still playing for barbies. Although, I still feel a lot of guilt and pain; I understand that this situation no matter who wants to guilt me into believing that “I asked for it” wasn’t entirely my fault. He was a 17 year old that knew better than to RAPE a 10 year old child. There is no excuse for his actions. I didn’t come on to him. He called me and even if I had…. He would still have been responsible for his actions.

He didn’t ruin me. He didn’t ruin my life and maybe I didn’t speak out then but I am speaking out now. I refuse to be silenced any longer because things like this should not be put under the rug. Even if everyone is on his side… I am on my side and on those who him and people like him have hurt. These kinds of things do happen and more than often victims keep quiet or are not taken seriously. They protect the abuser like I protected Ivan.  I refuse to protect people like him. I refuse to allow what happened to me be buried under like it has been these whole years.

At 17 years old, Ivan knew better. This is not a teenage phase. This is not something that he didn’t know was wrong. He knew what he was doing and I will always hold it against him. I will forgive him but not for him. He doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. I forgive him for me. I forgive myself for all those years that I kept quiet. I forgive myself for being ashamed because of his actions. He doesn’t have power over me and I am a little angry I must admit. I am angry that this kind of behavior has become socially acceptable and we make up excuses for people like him.

I think it’s time that we speak up about things like this and that we do everything to protect our children. That is the most important thing. We have to do everything in our power to never leave children unattended with people even if we think we can trust them. Even if we think they would never be capable of doing such acts like this. We can’t always prevent horrible things to happen to us or the people that we care about, but we can do everything to ensure we’re doing our part. It is okay to say NO and it is okay to speak up on things even if we’re afraid. It’s okay to be afraid and it’s okay to feel different kinds of emotions. The important thing is that we have to be vigilant and we have to do everything we can to protect everyone around us.

There are many Ivan’s out there and there’s many boys and girls like me. Many are very oblivious to their surroundings and the people that surround them. There’s people like me and our duty is to speak up for them and do everything we can to protect them.

To the sister that I cut out of my life.

They say sisters are forever and they will always be your best friend. That is definitely not true. Memories are forever, sisters are not. That is not always the case. At least not for everyone. I loved her as if she was my mom. She’s always going to be special to me. Although I wish that I could stop caring about her, I absolutely can’t. She may have not been there for the majority of my life but the very few years we spent together, we’re definitely memorable and I could never forget her. She taught me a lot including what I don’t want to become and what I don’t want to ever do. Her parenting is mediocre and in very low taste. Her poor parenting definitely shows in her children but this is definitely  more than the mediocrity. It’s about the decision we all make and how it affects other.

Before I begin, I want to add a trigger warning because this definitely is going to expose some things that may make others uncomfortable although it is not my intention. I want to say that I love my sister with all of my heart. It makes me sad when I think about her. Most of the time I am angry but sometimes sadness likes to make its way home. I always looked up to her as a child. I definitely did. I didn’t really grow up with her but my first memories of her weren’t that pretty. I know that as a child I hung on to her and I loved her very much. I know that she always dreamt of having a sister and she was happy when she found out I was a girl. I know that she saved up to buy me a doll when my mom was pregnant with me and I also know she cared about me. I know she would take me to the movies when I was a child. I know that I was loved by her. I don’t remember any of that but I as I grew up and she got married, I saw very little of her. Maybe she didn’t mean to disappear. I don’t know. I know she was in an abusive relationship and I knew that he wasn’t a good person when I was a kid. This man was a horrible person. He molested me when I was 4 years old. Of course, I don’t blame her for that. She didn’t molest me, he did. Besides the fact that she remained with him, she never did anything about it. I believe my mom did. I’m not sure. However, when my mom told her what I had told her, my sisters words were like this and I quote, “He says he didn’t do it but you can call the cops if you want”. I was in the front seat and that made me feel like shit. That was when I realized it was meant to be thrown under the rug. I was like six years old. I felt ashamed. When I went over to her house later on and I wanted to get a drink, he was there and pulled down his pants and I just went back to the living room. I knew that I was not supposed to say anything.

She finally left him when I was about 11 years old. My mom, younger sister and I helped her move. I knew I was going to be seeing more of her now. I remember my mom praying with me at night about her and to protect her. She mentioned my sister had bruises all over her face at some point. I was definitely scared for my sister but I would go months and probably years without seeing her and her children. My sister was always very judgmental and very critical of herself and others. I loved our conversations and I absolutely loved going over her house. It meant “No cleaning” and “no chores” unlike at my moms house. My sister was definitely going through a lot at that point. She was able to leave her husband but it took her a long time to get rid of the furniture that reminded her of him. I didn’t hold a grudge towards her about what she had said to my mom in front of me when I was younger but I definitely did not forget.

When I was 16, she was living with us and she would take me to school. She knew that I would ditch school every time after she dropped me off. One morning, she decided that we were going to go to the movies. She said that we were going to spend time together and so we did. I could never forget that day. We went to the movies in Culver city and then we went to Costco and got a bunch of snacks and even shared a big Costco pizza together. I felt so happy that day. That day was definitely was one of the best days of my life. It wasn’t because I got free food but because I got to spend quality time with my sister and I never had that chance before. I was getting to know my sister after not seeing having her much in my life growing up. It was definitely a big change for me. It was the only time as a teenager that we got to spend time just the two of us without her 4 kids. I will always remember that day and it’s definitely one of my most fondest memories with her.

We had moved to Idaho when I was 16 and I moved in with her, my brother and her kids when I was 19. I was just a few months pregnant when I did. We got a lot closer when we started going to college together. My daughter was just 4 months old at the time and my brother would babysit when we would go. We definitely enjoyed college. We were together and we had classes together. She let me copy off her homework and it was definitely something we were doing together. As the years passed, she was striving but I hadn’t done so good in some of my classes. I was even put on probation once and she paid for me to go back. I paid her back but she definitely wanted me to succeed and I will always be thankful to her for that. I would have never had the energy to go. We would go out to eat Mexican food often and we would share monster drinks together. My younger did go for a quarter with us. My sister was definitely determined in college as I was not. I enjoyed it but I didn’t feel smart enough. I admired her determination though. She ended up graduating and even obtained her bachelors. I am and always will be proud of her. Despite the challenges, she was able to do that. After everything she went through, she got it done. My sister is definitely a smart woman and I will always be so grateful to her for teaching me that through hard work, many things could be accomplished.

Her kids were definitely out of control. Her oldest son would steal from everyone including her. He and I got into plenty of fights together. He even threatened to hit my stomach with a metal bat. She even defended him there. He would hit me and she would stand by his side. It was hell living there with my child but I wanted to believe that she was a good mom and I’m not saying she’s a bad mom. Her choices were definitely very questionable and as a mom myself, I know that we all make plenty of mistakes. I know our love for our children is strong and is hard to set boundaries and limits at times for some. I learned some things and very slowly I began to lose respect for her.

As of now, my sister and I don’t talk. We don’t talk because we grew further apart but because I chose to get her out of my and my kids lives. She chose to stand by her own on a serious situation. She didn’t do the right thing. It doesn’t matter that she didn’t protect me but when it comes to those that I love, that is when the cord needs to be cut loose. I have no idea why she has the mentality that when things happen, you don’t talk about it. It seems like when something bad happens to someone, you’re just not supposed to talk about it. Even when I found out what my stepdad had done and I called him out on it, she even asked why I couldn’t wait until he delivered the dresser. I was in shock that she would even say that. I think I’m the only one that ever spoke out on what happened and stood up for others. I am not going into details because I am sweeping it under the rug but because it is not my story to tell. It’s someone else’s. I just know i’m not going to sit back and act like it never happened.

I will always love my sister dearly. I will always remember all of the times we spent together and I will always be grateful to her for helping me and being there for me. However, I cannot surround myself with someone like her. I refuse to be that person. I refuse to sweep things under the rug and keep quiet. I am just not made to be that person. My sister is choosing to protect the abuser and I am choosing to protect the victim. It is non-debatable. I cannot and will not act like she is in the right. I have no idea why she didn’t do the right thing but it is something that will be forever in her conscious. I refuse to stand by her on this and I never will put this aside as if it never happened. I cannot. I rather never speak to her ever again. Maybe she wasn’t taught many things and I’m sure that is the case. Maybe she needs help and I’m sure that she does. It is still not a good enough excuse. I will always remember her but I will not stand by her and I don’t think I could ever forgive her. I don’t think that I’m capable of forgiving her. I’m already struggling in forgiving myself.

 

 

My mother was right

I grew up thinking my mom was naive and didn’t have a single clue to anything she was saying. My mother was definitely not perfect and she made many horrible choices that definitely impacted me in many ways. I always thought she was pretty crazy in the head  and I would have told you so if you had asked for my opinion years ago. Whenever we would argue, she would tell me that one day I would have a daughter just like me. I laughed in her face and I told her that would never happen because I wasn’t going to have any kids. Well, my mother was right.

September 17, 2008 I found out I was pregnant. I was just 6 months shy of turning 19 years old. I was so shocked to find out that I was going to be a mom. I immediately knew it was a girl but I wasn’t going to trust it because I thought I was focusing on my “want” more than whatever sex it would be. May 2009 a beautiful little girl was born. Little Hailey changed my life forever. I felt like it was a dream. I couldn’t possibly be a mom. I couldn’t even let the change that motherhood brings take effect. I was in denial for a long time. She was so beautiful with such a beautiful smile. Her curly hair, her big eyes…. She was indeed the most beautiful child I have ever seen. She was definitely the perfect picture of how I always wanted to look like.

She is currently 8 years old and she is so sweet, caring, creative, smart and as opinionated as I am. My mom didn’t lie when she said I would have a daughter just like me. My daughter is definitely a little me. I see me in her in many ways, and in many situations. She’s as talkative as I always was as a child and she has such a bright mind. She is very outspoken and very clear on her boundaries. She is nice and thinks of others all of the time. She has a very young artistic heart. She loves to color, draw and do projects. She is definitely less angered than I was as a child and that is something that makes me truly happy. She sure does have an attitude and if it wasn’t for that attitude, I wouldn’t even be sure if she was mine! (I’m totally joking!)

Even though I see myself in her in many aspects, I totally admire and love her personality. She is definitely her own person and I love that so much about her. She is into makeup tutorials. She has a lot of interest in books. She absolutely loves reading and that is something that no one can ever take away and I hope she never stops. This child of mine has taught me so much and is definitely one of my biggest inspirations in life. I don’t know where I would be without her and I am so happy that she entered my life when she did. She came to my life when I most needed her. I am so thankful for her. I don’t even think I would know what I know now if it weren’t for her. She has taught me things you don’t learn in school. She taught me things that I never realized I needed to know.

I can see so much potential in her and I swear that I don’t say that only because she is my child. She is definitely growing so fast and learning so much about herself. She has this spirit that I wish I had. She is very creative and her imagination is amazing. This little girl always loved my mom. The love that she had for my mom is what made my heart warm. She loved my mom and my mom loved her just as much. It was truly ironic because I had never seen my mom love any of her grandchildren like she loved Hailey. She absolutely loved her and the woman that once told me to never date outside my race, never treated my daughter any different at all. It was a beautiful thing to see. My daughter absolutely felt nothing but love towards the person that I truly resented all of my life.

I never understood the advice my mom would give me until I became Hailey’s mom. I never knew what she meant when she would say the things that she said. I know now that being a parent is never easy. You literally have your heart outside of you and no matter what you do, you know that there are lessons in life they will experience that you can’t prevent. With how my life has turned out, I hope my daughter grows up to be her own person. I don’t want her to be a version of me. This doesn’t come from a place of negativity. I want her to be the best version of herself. I want her to make up her own mind about things and do the right thing. My daughter has such a beautiful heart and I know she is capable of many things. I know in my heart that she was born into this life to shine. She has such a very beautiful outlook in life and it’s so beautiful. It’s such a beautiful age.

I have always loved how opinionated I have always been and trust me, it is tough to have a little child of mine be as or even more opinionated than I am. It’s definitely a battle in this house. The attitude that comes with it is definitely something that tests both of us. Our personalities are so much alike but the love is definitely there. My daughter is truly an amazing gift that life has given me. I could never be so much more grateful. I’m so glad she has a little brother with whom she can make memories with. She teaches him a lot of things that interest her and my little boy absolutely adores his sister. He has always been fascinated by her since he was a little baby. It is so amazing the things they come up with together and the little games that they play. As Hailey was growing up, I thought she would be an only child and boy was I wrong. I’m glad that I was able to give them that gift.

I hope to be able to raise Hailey right. So far it seems like she is okay. (Lol) I hope she never gets to experience the same challenges that I have and I hope she makes smarter choices than I did. I want nothing but for her to succeed and become the person she is meant to be. She is such a wonderful, bright and open-minded little girl. The innocence that I carried is nothing compared to the innocence in her eyes. She truly is a very happy, caring and sweet girl that someday will be a woman. She may even have kids of her own. I don’t know but I hope that I don’t screw it up. I love her with all of my heart and love was nonexistent until I met her. She is definitely my first true love and I’m always going to be by her side and her brothers’.

I am just so thankful for my children even when the house is a mess. I have so much more admiration for my mother now that I am a mother of two myself. However she did it, I don’t know but she got it done. This woman was truly an amazing person and I will always keep her close to my heart. I am so thankful for my experiences, the good and bad. Whatever I did, I did something right because I was given the gift of motherhood and I’m thankful to be a mother to two beautiful children. ♥

Growing up without a dad is difficult.

I can’t even address it enough. Growing up without a dad is not what every child dreams of. A lot of people don’t understand. You don’t get to experience the things other children do. You can’t relate to others when they talk about their dad because you never had one. It’s definitely a sensitive subject. At least to me it definitely is and I don’t talk about it much. It almost feels embarrassing to say I never met my dad. However, I don’t feel like I lost a dad. I don’t think I can lose something I never had. However, I do feel like I have missed out some. I totally know that there’s things that I’ll never fully experience because I will never know what it is like to have a dad. I grew up without ever meeting my biological dad and to be fair, it is something that I always wanted. I wanted to have a dad. I don’t know why it was a big deal for me as a kid but I guess I just wanted to know where I came from. I wanted to call someone dad and actually see them as a dad like the girl that lived in front of my house.

Some kids come from many different family backgrounds. Sometimes they only have one parent or they have both. Sometimes the only people they grew up with was their grandparent, a family member or none at all. Not every person grew up having the same family history. I am definitely grateful that I grew up with a mother. She was a single mother herself. My oldest siblings grew up and met their biological dad. He passed away when the youngest was 13 years old. 7 years before I was born. My younger sister met her dad and spent time with him until she was four years old. I, on the other hand, never met my biological dad. My mom used to hang out with my little sister and her dad in his room and they were bonding. I was that child from that previous relationship and I was not his kid. I’ll never forget that day. I tried so hard to get him to like me but he always treated me differently. I was always the “other child”. I dreaded going to his house. He was mean and cruel. I would call him “daddy” because my mom told me to. It definitely was not because I wanted to. I knew I wasn’t his daughter and he sure didn’t waste time reminding me. He would make me feel bad about myself.

I just wanted to meet my real father. I knew his name. I saw his name on my birth certificate. He didn’t sign it. I guess at that time you were able to add the fathers’ name without them being present. I always had this curiosity as to who my real dad was. I frequently asked my mom about the man on my birth certificate and she was always hesitant to answer my questions. I never understood why. I just knew I wanted to meet him and I wanted to know who helped create me. There were times I cried because I wanted to have a dad and I wanted to meet him. There was a wedding my mom took my sister and I, I talked to the bride and asked her if she had a dad. I, then got sad because I wanted to have a dad too. My mom then instead told me that next time to go talk to her instead of crying to other people. I felt ashamed for expressing myself. I didn’t feel like she cared about my feelings and I knew I could not go to her anyway. She always avoided me when I asked her questions.

I wanted a dad so bad that I would refer to my oldest brother as dad. I knew he wasn’t my dad but I cared about him as if he was mine. He had married a woman with two kids of her own and they would call her dad. He seemed like a cool dad and I wanted that so bad. I would always play with her boy and he would call my brother “Daddy” and one time outside of my home he told me that he wasn’t my dad. I knew that he wasn’t. I would call my other brother, dad too. He also told me he wasn’t my dad. I could still remember how I felt but they were right. It just became so overwhelming, I stopped caring. I did make a call to 411 one time. I wanted to find my “dad” and I wanted to talk to him. I got his voicemail every time but I was able to hear his voice. It would make me happy and sometimes I’d call knowing he wouldn’t answer. My first thought was that he actually spoke English unlike my mom who barely did.

I wanted a dad so bad but it eventually became something I was accustomed to. I knew that I would never actually be raised by a father. I would never get to learn about him and I would never get to have a relationship with my birth father. It’s not something that I got frequently depressed about as I got older. I just accepted that I’d never have that. When my mom married when I was ten years old, the first thing I told her was that I wouldn’t call him dad. She didn’t force me this time. I wanted to care about the man she married as my father and I probably called him dad like a couple of times but it was never something genuine. I liked him for a little bit but that was before he married my mom. After awhile, he was just judgmental and rude. He made me feel even worse about myself. I had already accepted that I’d never have a dad and I was okay with that. I made sure to not even think about it or make it a big deal like I did when I was younger.

However, when I was 12 I made a decision to find the man on my birth certificate. I actually spoke to his ex wife and I met with her. I also met Alex who was his son. He was dark skinned and I tried to establish a some type of relationship with him but it was pretty obvious that it was awkward. He had amazing drawing skills and I used it to convince myself that he must be my half-brother because I used to draw when I was younger. I did get to meet the man who was on my birth certificate. He was tall and dark. He wore earrings and had a push bra or something but it made him look like he had boobs. It was clearly intentional. I thought it was kind of odd but I didn’t judge him. It felt weird meeting him and it was weirder when his ex wife would refer to him as my dad. I would get defensive and say he wasn’t my dad and that my moms’ current husband was even though I didn’t feel that way about him either. However, this man I met was never there for me and I wasn’t sure if he was my dad. Maybe I did judge a little but he was dark! His kids were dark too. I was born blonde! I just didn’t believe it was a possibility. We didn’t really have any common features at all. I did ask him if he believed I was his child and he answered with a question. He asked me that I should be the one questioning if he was my dad. He said that my mom and him only had sex for like 30 seconds. That’s when I figured that he probably wasn’t my dad but I didn’t really feel like he was anyway. Somehow when I met him, I just knew that he was not my biological father and I got over it.

I was right. This man on my birth certificate is not my biological father. Sure, there may be a slight possibility he could be since there was never a DNA test done. I actually asked my mom when I was 20 years old if she could tell me the truth. I promised her I wouldn’t get mad. She actually was honest with me and told me the truth about my real biological father. She told me that he was from Mexico as well and that he was blonde. That’s who I got the blonde hair from. Now I found the culprit. I always wondered about that because all of my siblings are brunettes and I was the only one who was born with blonde hair. I mean, I kinda figured that was the case. When she told me the truth, all it did was confirm that my whole life was a lie. She had lied to me. I wasn’t mad at her. I already knew the truth before she even told me. I just needed the confirmation. She told me that he stole from her and I could sense from her tone that she despised him. I asked her if he was the reason why she treated me differently. I wasn’t trying to argue but I ultimately, I was hurt. I really was hurt. I felt disappointed. I remembered when I was younger, she told me she knew she was pregnant the day she had sex with the man on my birth certificate. As an adult now, I know now that she must have already been pregnant then since she stated she was feeling nauseous.

To my surprise, my older sister knew all along. She tried to make me feel even worse when she said that my mom tried to abort me. Which by the way, was a complete lie and if she had, that would have been her choice. I would not have been alive but she chose to keep me. Either way, she told me that she caught them in bed together one time. She also told me that when I was born, she told my mom that it was pretty obvious who was my dad. My mom still decided to put the other man on my birth certificate. I felt more upset at my sister for not telling me. I knew my mom had lied to me but I didn’t expect that from my sister. I never actually told her how I felt but it really felt like it was double the betrayal. I knew then that I would never have the opportunity to meet my biological father and I was pretty over it. When my mom and I got into it once, my sister then decided it was a good time to state that my biological father tried to molest or actually did. I just felt gross as if the actions of this man had any bear on who I was as a person. I felt disgusted I was related to someone who would do something like that.

Growing up without a dad was definitely something I did not get to experience. I’ll never have a father-daughter dance. If I ever were to get married, I’d never have my biological dad to walk me down the aisle. I never got to play any sports with him and be proud of my “dad”. In a way, I am grateful that I didn’t get to grow up without a dad. As a single mother myself, I know that my mom had her reasons. Maybe he knew I existed or maybe he didn’t. It doesn’t matter. My mom did what she thought was best and I can’t blame her. Maybe there’s more to the story that I’ll never know about. Regardless, she didn’t abort me and that could have been something she may have considered. Who really knows? Either way I am here and I am grateful for my life regardless of who wasn’t there and what I didn’t have. The point of this is that even though I grew up without a dad, at least I had my mom. Maybe she could have made different choices but I am thankful to have had her as my mom. She tried her best and maybe she could have tried a little harder but she fed me, and raised me. I am a bit upset about things but it’s definitely something out of my control. There are many others that didn’t even have one parent. I am thankful for my mom and for my life. Even though I didn’t have a biological dad. The father figure I had in my life has and always will be my brother Oscar. He helped my mom a lot with me and my younger sister. He gave up his personal life for us. I’ll be eternally grateful for him. He would rush home after work to babysit my baby sister and I. He bought me expensive shoes and I still hear about it ’til this day! He still as of today not have children of his own but he is a better dad than most people I know. At least he helped my mom. He did a lot for us and I could never repay him enough. He was not just there for me but he was a father figure to my daughter since she was born too.

It’s all about perspective. I could choose to be bitter about not having a dad growing up. I could be mad at the world but it’s not going to change the fact that I never will meet him. It may seem like it’s something that I should have gotten over as a little child but as a child you feel things too. The good thing about all of this is that it doesn’t phase me at all anymore. Sure, I definitely wish I could have a supportive dad especially now. Someone I can go to whenever I felt scared, upset or just needed a shoulder to cry on. I don’t know how it is to have a dad but as a single mom myself, maybe it was in my best interest to never have met him. It definitely seems like it. Who knows how my life would have been had he been in my life. I’m not worried about “What if’s?” though. I just know that now that I am 28 years old, i’m not worried about what I didn’t have but about what I had and what I have now. My brother helps me as much as he cans and he helps babysit my kids whenever his work schedule allows him to. Everyone wishes something would have been different about their lives. Some people may have had two parents but maybe they weren’t good parents. I don’t know. All I know is that I am okay with not having a dad. Maybe because there wasn’t a choice in the matter but I am not mad. I’m okay. I don’t have a dad but I survived.

This is just part of my story.