Dear Reader,

We often dont speak up when we believe or suspect someones been abused. Out of fear for our own lives and reputation we allow those people to suffer in silence. Its time to change that.

I know its hard. To imagine that standing up for whats right could result in a backlash from the abusing party. But please Let me cry out to you. As a child who was stuck in sexual abuse for years and years, I would do anything to go back in time and beg someone to help me. But thats the problem. I cant go back in time. A child does not know that they have a voice. What pains me the most is that as Ive come public about my situation I am discovering that many people suspected or heard rumors of my abuser making many people feel uncomfortable. But noone said anything. Everyone kept to themselves.

Everyone wondered but thats where the problem lies. Everyone wondered but noone asked questions. They just left me. Alone. In a darkness I couldnt escape from. And even though I am an adult there are some people who are afraid to stand up. And to talk.

Imagine this. Imagine my life. Imagine my whole life being surrounded by negativity, physical and mental abuse and emptiness. Now imagine your life. Some of you are in the same possition as me. So you understand what I am talking about, but some of you fear the reprocussions of saying my truth. Out of fear for what your life might become, you remain silent. Think about what my life was what my life is.

This is how Child predators, pedophiles and molesters get away with there actions. Because we fear what they might do in our own lives. Amd they know that. They will manipulate everyone you know. They will do everything they can to get everyone else on there side. Before you even have a chance to speak out about yours.

Dont let your silence be a childs cry for help. Dont let your silence be the tears of an innocent 4 year old who doesnt know why her father, or a person she trusted is touching themselves on top of her. Dont let your silence be the brokeness that a victim feels everyday. If everyone stood up for what was right, spoke up for the children, then this world would be a better place.

So many people can still save me. They couldn’t save me when I was a child because they didnt have the facts. Well now you do and you can save me now. My mind may be twenty five years old. But it is still the mind that was once of a child. And I am only a few months in to getting to know the realness of my mind.

Be the voice I didnt have. And be the voice the person you know didnt have. Be a voice. Little do you know the overwhelming power you hold by coming forward about your own witnesses and experiences. Little do you know you can still be the change a child needs.

Love Ally

Dear Reader,

She keeps going to work everyday. My mom. Yea She keeps living life like everything is normal. When my whole world felt like it was falling apart. Shewas unphased. When everything I’d ever known crumbled right in front of me, she went to work. She didnt feel sorry for me. She didnt make me feel like she loved me. I mean all the signs were there that she didnt give a damn about me. But ya know, it was still a hard pill to swallow.

While I was recovering from loosing my family, she was covering her ass as well as my dad by having her coworker, who by the way knows absolutely nothing about me and has met me once!, Message multiple people on my friends list. To tell them that I suffered from a mental illness. Its absolutely laughable. Because honestly even if if i did have a mental health issue, wouldn’t a loving, caring and concerned parent keep that to themselves and just do everything they can to reach out to there daughter?

Nah. They did everything they could to invalidate my story before I even got to tell it. They told people to ignore my posts about abuse, because they don’t want you or anyone else to know the truth about them.

All of the lies they’ve fed me in my life is enough to swallow an entire bottle of pills. Each pill representing something of me I lost because of them. Security, confidence, self values, loyalty to them, empty conversations that once meant something, every hug, every tear, every single moment of every single possitive memory I had. Fake. A twisted lie. The result of a web of deceit.

I drove past her work today on my way home from a friends. And I saw her car parked with her American Flag sunvisor thing in the windshield. I continued to drive as fast as I could, just barely glancing at her vehicle. And when I tell you my stomach was in knots I mean KNOTS. knots tied over and over that you just cant untie. No matter how hard you pick at it with your fingers, or pull at it with your teeth.

As I was driving home thinking about what Ive had to endure. She was there. At work. Pretending to care about people, helping the countries veterans who fought for her freedom, Our freedom and she is wasting it trying to do everything she can to cover for her husband, my abuser, my sisters abuser, and more then likely, multiple women and childrens abuser. But she sits there. With her head held high, clinging to her pride like a cluster of baby spiders clung onto its mothers back.

But just like that spider, When you squash it, all the babies run everywhere. Scattered. And just like that her pride will be scattered and the “rumors” that she trys so hard to protect herself from, will be running wild throughout the whole country, maybe the whole world. And they will travel further then a baby spider, whos moms been stepped on.

Hmm maybe driving past her work and knowing she doesnt give two shits about me was a good reminder of what Im fighting for.

Love Ally

Dear Reader,

I’ve been a bit absent today. Because my mind has been free all day. I havent had a single moment of stress. No thoughts about my crazy life. I dont feal like Im living in reality. But this is my reality. This life is my new reality every day. Soon.

The craziness, the emptiness, and the never ending anxiety over my situation with my abusers is not going to be forever. My happiness and my sanity is right around the corner.

Standing strong is hard. I wish that I could get lost in days like today. And that the day didnt have to be over and that I didnt have to go back to my life tomorrow….

Could I just be me, this Me. All of the time. Real laughter. Real Joy. And Real pride in watching my boys interact. The safety, the security and the comfort I have been missing in my life and the fact that everywhere they go. They get to feel secure now. They will never feel alone. Or unworthy, or scared. And when they are scared they will know to come to me. They dont have to be alone in there feelings. They dont have to be alone in themselves because Im here. Im with them and I always will be.

Love Ally

Dear Reader,

I already blogged today. But something is on my mind that I feel the need to talk about.

I look at my daughter. Shes 4 months. She smiles at me everytime I make Eye contact with her. She hardly cries and when she does I just want to make her smile again. Shes one of the best things that ever happened to me. Camellia is such a blessing.

I can’t help but feel this sadness that what if my adoptive parents had of laid eyes on me since the moment I was born? Would they have still treated me the way that they did? Or would they have loved me more…

The answer will forever haunt me because I dont think it would habe mattered. My mom was there for each of my kids births. And she doesnt care about them. She cares about her lifestyle more then she cares about my babies. And to realize that that has always been the case. Terrifies me.

I named my Daughter after her. After my mother. Camellia Darlene Angela…. Angela. A name that meant so much to me but it now makes me sick to look at her birth certificate. Ive been so consumed with all of this trauma that I havent had time to change my daughters name…

I named my daughter after someone who abused me just as much as my father… and thats what makes everything so bad. I viewed all my moms controlling antics as loving and caring. The control she had over me, I thought was good. I thought that meant that she wanted the best for me. But she didnt and it wasn’t and she was hurting me intentionally all along. And my Daughter, has to carry a name that is now my burden. My mistake. I didn’t see the truth. If only. I had of saw the truth before I named her.

Children are so innocent. There minds are so brilliant and It hurts my heart that there really are people that prey on them. 1 in 3 woman are sexually abused in there lifetime. Isnt that sickening? 1 in 8 are abused as a child. Pedophiles dont just go after little girls. Its boys too. And its beyond my comprehension how anyone! Man or woman can be attracted to a CHILD.

I vomit violently, almost everytime I think about the sexual abuse I endured. Makes me so uncomfortable to think that I knew I didnt like it but I didnt know what it was so in my mind I was letting it happen. In my mind, as a little girl, I thought it was my fault. And almost every child thats been abused felt that way. And its horrible.

Children are a blessing. And it is our Job as parents and just decent human beings to protect them. And anyone who is willing to cover for a child molester is just as guilty and disgusting as the offender. Have some respect for yourself and for the children and turn in anyone you know thats harmed a child. Even if you have no proof. If you suspect it TALK. Noone talked for me. People wondered but noone stepped up to help. And thats why I was trapped in it. For so damn long. Because everyone minded there own business, rather then be a voice for me. Be the voice a child doesnt know they have. And stand up for what is right.

Love Ally

Dear Reader,

Its easy to warp the mind of a child. You have to be a really sick person to train there minds for your personal gain. You really do. I was groomed in so many ways. I was taught that I was to obey my parents. No matter what. For it pleases the Lord. And If I didnt obey them. Or understand what they wanted me to do. I would be spanked. Not once, not twice but mutiple times.

As a child it was my responsibility to make sure all the chores were done before mom and dad got home. Even if my siblings didnt do the chores assigned. I had to do it for them. Because it was my responsibility and I got in trouble when things were not done.

I wasn’t just taught to forgive. I was taught that every one of us kids had to forgive our parents. But they never had to forgive us. We would get in trouble for the simplest little things. Saying the word stupid. Or naming a barbie toy butthead. I wasnt aloud to say sugar coated swear words. But my Dad cussed us out everytime he didnt get his way. I wasn’t allowed to say sugar coated swear words. But my dad was allowed to rape me and my sister almost every day. I wasnt allowed to play with friends till I cleaned up my dads projects for work in the garage. My siblings and I spent hours organizing his shit just for it to be destroyed again in 2 days and have to clean it again the next week. I didnt understand. I was so confused by what was right and what was wrong because everything was backwards.

“Don’t have sex before marriage. (That was already taken from me so the argument didnt make sense) Dont do things behind our backs. (But my dad would make me touch him and tell me not to tell anyone) Dont wear makeup.(while everyone else did so i stood out like a sore thumb)” My dad would sing God Bless America IN church on the stage. While i sat in the podiums with a sore bottom from his actions that morning. IT WAS DISGUSTING. no wonder I was so lost.

As an adult when I was dating my husband. My mother contacted his mom constantly. Saying that by me visiting Him all the time, and her allowing it was supporting my bad behavior. Because hanging out with my boyfriend late into the night was bad on my moms reputation. I was always trying to do right by them but nothing was ever good enough. I was dating a good christian man, and they were still on my ass about him. Just as much as they were when I had an abusive boyfriend.

I had no privacy. They went through my phone all the time. MY PHONE. Not my sisters often. And never my brothers. Just mine. And I knew if I didnt give it up theyd beat my ass. But theyd beat my ass anyways if I talked about them to my friends. The phone was to be put in there room every single night. They were strict. They were overbearing. And I had no independence. I had no security. Because I was afraid to say anything.

My dad once threw me outside when i was 17. He grabbed me by the hood of my sweater, picked me up off the ground. And told me to fuck off. Throwing me outside in the pouring rain, in the middle of the night. And he locked the door.

I waited outside in the doghouse for hours. Literally in a dog house like I was trash. And they didnt look for me at first. So I ran away. Through the creekbed that ran through the property. I was wet. And it was cold. It was dark so the bushes i ran through ended up being poison oak. And it covered my entire body. I put myself in more danger and Hitchhiked on Highway 49. Got a ride from a scary old man in a white van. Clung onto a pocket knife as we drove to san andreas then met up with my boyfriend at the time who took me to a friends house. Where I slept in there shed that night. I would have rather slept on a dirty mattress in a dirty shed then been at home.

So that night I got the flu. I puked all night running from the shed to inside this dirty hoarders house with a narrow pathway to the bathroom to puke. That next afternoon. After several missed messages from my Dad begging me to come back. I called them, because I was sick. Met them at a burger king and my dad took me home.

I never got an apology for that. In fact I was so sick and violently puking still when I got home that I asked my mom for some water. She told me to get it myself. She didnt say im glad your home. She didnt say she was worried about me. She just picked up the phone in the kitchen and called her mother and told her what an ungreatful daughter I was. She said “Ally didnt even appologize to me. She just asked for water like i am her servant.”

It was a landline she was speaking on so I picked up the other end of the phone. Where I then heard my grandma say “Lock up all your stuff Angie, shes a lier and a thief.”

My eyes burned with tears. My heart ached hearing her say that. I had never stolen anything from them in my life. They kicked me out! And yet they made it seem like as though I was an ungrateful bitch who left for no reason. In a fury I yelled out Im not a thief or a lier. Are you kidding me! Why would you get grandma to say these things about me”

My mom then told me to mind my business and stop snooping on her conversations. She didn’t appologize. She didnt hug me. She let my grandparents believe i was this horrible daughter. When really I was only ever trying to please them. I didnt ever care about the water…just the fact that I felt so unloved that day. That this is where my mind began searching for anything or anyone to love me. Even seeked my moms approval every day for the rest of my adult years, until now.

That night they ruined my relationship with my best friends Aunt and Uncle. Because my parents pounded on there door. Demanding that they let them in there trailer to see if I was there. And told them I had run away. For no reason. And portrayed me to be a bad friend. And from that day forward, My friends family always viewed me as a trouble maker.

I guess I am rambling now. I just was so mortified today at my kids therapy appointments because I realized that I really did live this Horrible life. And all these things scare me as a mother. Because I dont want my kids to experience what I did. And the fact that my family….groomed me to believe that the way they treated me was normal. Makes me so sick to my stomach sometimes I can hardly cope.

My mind works now. The way its suppossed to. My parents have portrayed me to be crazy every moment since I was a child. Because They knew a day would come where I would realize there manipulation and they would use every situation in my childhood against me. And it makes me sad to know they planned it all along.

I have to sell one of my horses. To afford to pay for all the money Ive spent on a lawyer. Because my parents are never going to stop. I dont matter to them. I never did. And All the money is being wasted to result in nothing but a conversation.

But I will do anything to protect my kids. To end my emotional turmoil.

I want to train my kids to love themselves no matter what. To know I support them and love them regardless of the choices they make. Because they are kids. And they deserve to explore the world on there own. Of course I will guide them along the way. But I will always treat them like there own person. I will always give them the attention and respect they deserve.

I want them to always know I fought as hard as I could for as long as I could for them.

Love Ally

Dear Reader,

Something weighing heavy on my heart today is that my adoptive “family” cant or just wont give me any answers. There is no telling me why. Anytime I ask its always just “I dont know.”

For example. Why when I told my mother about the abuse did she make me confront my abuser? She doesn’t know. Why didn’t she save me and take me out of the situation. She doesnt know. Why did you expect a 5 year old to give you details about the abuse when she didnt even know what a penis actually was? She doesnt fucking know.

At least thats what she says. And when I ask her to help me now. Because she knows the details of the abuse. And we’ve sat down and had many conversations all five of us about the details of his unremarkable sexual interests. She says she wont. She wants to portray me as crazy. Why? Well she actually answered this one. Because I cannot give her the life she wants. She cant have the house she wants without him. Thats literally what she says.

Her home, her car, her nails, her hair and her freaking fake reputation of being this perfect flawless person. Is more important then getting justice for her daughters.

I am guessing that justice will never be served because not everyone wants justice. Im alone in that descision. All of the people I grew up with think doing this serves no purpose. I am just an empty glass jar in my trauma. And all my family holds the key to open my jar. To save me. To tell the truth. But instead everyone wants to drop me…to break that glass. Because my emotions are inexcusable. How dare I decide how far forgiveness should go!

I was raised to forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Every night pray for your sins in case you passed away in the middle of the night. Youd be forgiven. Thats what I thought. Thats what they made me believe. You can make the same mistake…..over and over and over times one thousand and I should always forgive.

The bruises left on my legs, on my back my bare butt and on my heart, from the hands of my parents when they struck me over and over again with a belt, has been forgiven. The tears that stung my eyes that I had to hold back because If i cried Id get another lashing, have been forgiven. The busted lips which was the result from talking back to my dad, has been forgiven. The time my mother smacked me for singing a silly song I made up at 12 years old has been forgiven.

It went like this. I feel like a duck like a horse like a snorting pig. Like a lamb like a whale, like a baluga. Like a cat like a dog like an ear and an eye and a nose and my mouth. I know. Its a stupid song. But it made my brother laugh so hard and I loved his laugh. So Id try to sing it as fast as I can. And as she spoke the words “Do you want to be slapped” ;spitting the word slapped. She struck me across my face so hard that I busted up laughing. To cover the pain I felt in my heart. I didnt know what was so wrong about that song…. for her to slap me like that. So I didnt want to let my guard down and show her how much that hurt. I brushed it off But again. I forgave her.

Every beating. Every arguement every hurtful word they spewed at me. Ive forgiven.

And my mom. I must understand right? Even if I helped pay her bills or gave her a new home. I could never provide her with the lifestyle she wants. So I should forgive her for this….because she just cant possibly see what the hell is wrong with that.

The life I lived because of both of them is invalid to her. It was done at the expense of there happiness. Whats done is done. She will never ever see my trauma as anything more then something that I should forgive them for. Because Forgiveness is endless. And I am a fool for thinking otherwise. Right?

Love Ally

Dear Reader,

Wow. What a day today was! I woke up feeling pretty defeated after some personal conversations I had yesterday. But my boys woke up in the happiest of moods! And they really lifted my spirits. My oldest son, Eris gave me a big hug and said in his extra cute voice “I really love you Mom.” And Kuiper jumped on the bed yelling so chearfully “Its a beautiful Day momma! Its not nighttime anymore. Are you ready to get up? Im hungry!”

And I laughed because first of all hes always hungry amd secondly I immediately felt like Im doing my job right. The fact that they felt so cheerful means my mood and my emotions from the day before hasn’t affected them. And they just see me. And when they look back in 10 years they will just remember me.

Me being there. Even though i was fighting a battle on the side. Me laughing with them even though i was crying when I went to bed. Me doing projects with them when my mind can barely even focus on my own projects. They just remember Me. There mom. And I love that. I love that I am succeeding in my job as there mom even though I feel like I already failed. Even though I beat myself up everynight wondering if I did the right things. Or said the right thing to them. Or If I was too strict with them. I really beat myself up emotionally and Its really not necessary.

Today all 3 kids took a nap with me at the same time. Today all 3 kiddos and I went to the park and they had a blast. As I get ready to cook dinner I am proud to say that I made it through another day. And I made it a good freaking day. Despite the challenges.

I am a Super Mom. And I just wanted to take a minute to pause and appreciate myself and my family.

Love Ally

Dear Reader,

I want to talk about pain… pain can make us do unimaginable things. Pain can make us harm ourselves mentally. Or physically.

For example as a child I used to heat up sewing needles and press them against my skin because the pain of that…felt better then the pain i felt in my heart. Pain can make us say things we regret. Like when I called some of my family members the horrid C word. Not very christian like of me right? But even I sin too. Pain can make some people commit suicide. Every moment of pain Ive felt I poured into this blog the past month because I want something possitive to come of it.

But what if the blog itself causes pain on other victims of my father that they dont want to feel? Or that they cant feel. Because maybe there pain makes them do things they regret.

I dont know. I wish I knew what was the right thing to do. How do i move on from this past life and leave behind all that pain…if i dont turn it into something good?

I am debating with myself every waking moment because I just want whats best for me to be best for everyone else…

John 14:27

Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. Sometimes an unexpected pain or illness may frighten you. Accept God’s gift of peace, and let it create a calm spirit within you.

Love Ally

Dear Reader,

Days like today. When I feel like I can do nothing. Are the days my mind seems to run the most wild. My mind is filled with questions after questions.

Yesterday my husband and I took the kids to the snow. They laughed and giggled and squealed with joy. I watched as our little Dog Dandy. Leaped! Through the snow. That little daschund is so tiny she would almost dissapear. And then BOOM shed pop back out of the snow, like a dolphin in the sea. And once again. I found myself happy.

I dragged my feet all morning yesterday. I tried to curl up in a ball under my blankets on the safety of my bed. But My husband nagged at me till I got up. Then I brushed my hair. And looked in the mirror and thought. Dang I have shiny hair. It was a knotted mess before i had brushed it. And I decided I liked looking clean. So I applied a little makeup and looked in the mirror again telling myself, “There you dont look sad. You are beautiful and you are strong. Show your kids how to have some fun”

And so I did just that. And in the process I had fun too! I did ‘trust falls’ in the snow onto my back with my four year old son Eris. He is absolutely amazing. If only you knew him! He is so bright. And funny. And curious! He looks at his world in such a positive light, i wish I could see the world that way.

And my two year old son Kuiper. He has No Fear! None at all! He is adventurous and bold! Definitely NOT afraid to tell you what hes feeling. Hes really been good at pulling me out of the gutter with his jokes. And he doesnt even know hes doing it.

SEE! This is why I blogged today. I didnt know what to say because I didnt want all my posts to be full of negativity. I have questions. But I may never get answers. And although that doesn’t feel okay to me. It also doesnt surprise me. And I cant let it bring me down right?

I gotta pull my head right out of this sinking hole of a gutter. And realize that I lived my whole life Asking the questions. And its time to stop. I just hope one day I get answers when the time comes. Until then. I want to spend as little time as possible dwelling on these feelings. Im going to allow myself a few minutes to blog. And in those moments I can decide whether to write about my feeling on my past or to write about the joys of my day. But Its only those few moments I can allow myself to dig deep. To ask the questions I want to ask. Even without answers.

Its going to be another good day today.

Love Ally

Dear Reader,

I spent all night last night. In a never ending anxiety attack. An anxiety attach over this statement “I didnt rape her I just had sex with her”

Thats what my dad said. 2 Years ago about when he was admitting to us what he did to his other victim. I just had sex.

THAT is where his mind is. He gets so much pleasure from a child that he actually calls it sex. I spit that word as I say it. Sex. An act of love or attraction to another adult. Thats what he refured to his acts of abuse as. Not violating. Not degrading, not like it was something totally inexcusable.

His brain is that Fucked up. That those feelings are considered normal to him. And at one time. I felt bad for him. I felt sorry that i tempted him. Sorry for him that he couldn’t control those urges…..

Thats how messed up my brain was. He told me so many times that its was an accident and I needed to love him anyways. That i actually started to believe him and love him. And then…i loved him since the age of 14 on, i thought i truely loved him…

And I did.

And I wish he would just tell the truth. For me and show me that he loves me just like i thought he did. But he wont. Because He didnt really love me.

Love Ally