Yay it is finally Autism Awareness month!!

Oh how I wish everyone shared my immeasurably boundless passion to spread awareness and funding! I am writing this post now in an effort to reach out to whoever in this great big wonderful universe who might want to band together to see the soaring rates of autism decrease.

Did you know …

• Autism now affects 1 in 68 children and 1 in 42 boys
• Autism prevalence figures are growing
• Autism is the fastest-growing developmental disorder in the U.S.
• Autism costs a family $60,000 a year on average
• Boys are nearly five times more likely than girls to have autism
• There is no medical detection or cure for autism

National Institutes of Health Funds Allocation

• Total 2012 NIH budget: $30.86 billion
• Of this, only $169 million goes directly to autism research. This represents 0.55% of total NIH funding.

• More children will be diagnosed with autism this year than with AIDS, diabetes & cancer combined.
  (https://www.autismspeaks.org/what-autism/facts-about-autism)
  Close to 50% of the money raised for Autism Speaks comes from the Walk Now for Autism Speaks events. Walk events not only generate vital funds for autism research, but also raises crucial awareness about autism on the local level.

  If at all possible please join my team “Walking for Lincoln” even if you cannot walk as the event is this Saturday April 11th in St. Petersburg Florida. You can still make a donation that will directly go towards the incredibly needed funding for research and the services they graciously provide for families in need.
  http://www.walknowforautismspeaks.org/tampa/walkingforlincoln

  My son does not have a voice to advocate for his disability so I am his voice- and I will not stop trying my best every single day to help him be the very best possible Lincoln he can be. I am also making neat crafts to sell and either list on Ebay or Etsy and then donate the proceeds to Autism Speaks (https://instagram.com/p/09LK9YxW0S/). If you are interested please comment below and thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to read this~ Much love from Arielle & Lincoln

  Every little bit of Awareness matters!

  

  The Love of my Life

My Son~ My Sunshine

I never could have imagined how motherhood would change my life completely…. Never.
I was petrified every day scared out of my mind as having a high risk pregnancy I could have lost my sweet boy Lincoln at any time due to SUA and an umbilical cord insertion issue. After 30 weeks of gestation I had to drive 1 hour round trip twice a week to the hospital for monitoring and testing while working a full-time stressful job being a certified pharmacy technician. Always by myself to each and every appointment as I had a very unsupportive/abusive ex…. in fact the first time he hit me was when I was pregnant.

But on May 14th 2008 at 1:45 in the morning my Angel was brought into the world. I will Never forget every single ounce of pain from natural childbirth but also how it immediately vanished the moment they laid him on my bare chest. I kept saying “Ohmygod, Ohmygod, Ohmygod!”~
Tears flooded down my face and that instant overpowering love was truly the most momentous occasion in my entire life. The astounding immense love I felt for him border-lined on post partum psychosis as I was up every 2 hours breastfeeding him but in-between those hours instead of sleeping I found myself constantly checking on him, putting my hand on his belly to make sure it was still rising, and carefully having a finger under his nose to make sure he was still breathing. Phew talk about temporary insanity!

I wouldn’t change the grey hairs I immediately started growing within a months time of becoming a mother. I wouldn’t change the stretch marks and tarnished stomach because without those “mama war wounds” then I wouldn’t have the unbelievable love and shining light that he glows every day!

Some days are harder than others to maintain all the positive energy that I aspire to keep in our lives. It is an uphill battle to put the so-called “oxygen mask on yourself first” when ALL you want to do is use every ounce of strength for your child (especially since my son is fairly non verbal ASD, so I HAVE to be his voice)! People have asked me if I could go back in time and not have had this pregnancy would I…? To them I try to refrain from shouting HELL NO! Unless you have experienced the joys/struggles of being a special needs parents then you truly do not understand, and that lacking perspective can only be gained upon obtaining awareness from learning information and showing kindness!

This month of #AutismAwarenes I refuse to keep my mouth shut!
I will continue to speak words from my mind, heart, and complete soul up until the day I no longer walk this earth.

YES more talk about Rape!

My recent posts have primarily been focused on sexual abuse as I adamantly feel that by not speaking out about the topic then we inadvertently are contributing to the dismal lack of awareness on this imperative matter.

Every single horrific experience in my past shaped me into a stronger person as I survived those events despite the wave of devastation they caused. Did you know it is customary procedure for a rape victim to be admitted into a psychiatric ward for the evening after having a rape kit done in order to be on suicide watch? I hadn’t known that- not until I was told by my nurse that they felt I didn’t need to. In fact it was around 4 am when all was said and done at the hospital and my friends that said they would pick me up did not answer their phones unfortunately. So I took a cab home by myself in the early morning darkness back to the scene of the crime- which was my own house. If that doesn’t scream strength then honestly I don’t know what on earth does?!

Here is a chilling excerpt of the “awareness” we have:

“Republican nominee for Senate Richard Mourdock’s recent “misspeaking” is unexceptional. Despite what he may have meant when he said “even when life begins in that horrible situation of rape that… is something God intended to happen,” he is unexceptional.”
A fair reflection of our cultural tolerance, one without party affiliation, for rape and its qualifications— “Legitimate rape” versus non legitimate rape. “Forcible rape” as “stock language,” “lemons from lemonade.” Women “should make the best of a bad situation,” “horribly created gifts from God,” husbands can’t rape their wives, because of science and technology no woman ever needs an abortion, “emergency rape,”women lie about rape legislation, “honest rape,” rape blackmail, “the sodomized virgin” rape, rape is like auto theft. But, again, all of this goes hand-in-hand with Facebook rape pages, Daniel Tosh rape jokes, Reddit rapist threads, music, videos, movies, ad infinitum.”
(retrieved online via http://www.huffingtonpost.com/soraya-chemaly/50-facts-rape_b_2019338.html)

I realized after 12 years of repressing memories that I had been sexually violated more times than I had even realized! And the scariest part of being in my previous ignorance was an evening when I had a traumatic nightmare painfully revealing that my own ex had raped me several times as I said NO and his response was “That’s MY S**t!” and refused to stop. I have a multitude of stories that I won’t get into right now as my body physiologically responds with redness and flushing heat to my cheeks along with red heated blotchy marks all over my chest with intense panicked tightening. Breathing becomes labored. Faintness upon standing ensues as I just walked to get some water. I always ask myself Why, Why, WHY….? So many brutal questions that I cannot fathom an answer to as I do not fully understand the rhyme or reason to it all….

Bad things happen to good people all the time they say, however that is not a means of comfort in the least bit. I don’t know about other PTSD sufferers but I find it extremely difficult to cry when I think or talk about what has happened to me in my past. Crying is a healthy way provided by nature in order to help you release negative energy from your soul. No matter how hard I try mine seems to grasp on to the pain, and I find myself unable to muster the courage to attempt letting it go.

 Join me in standing up and putting our voices together boldly speaking with heads held high. My intended goal is to help women navigate through this excruciating minefield, and empower them to report these crimes so charges can be pressed! No more Silence! I did even though nothing came to fruition as there was not enough evidence (I was drugged), and then my rapist died before the corroborating witness that finally came forward could get my case reopened. It’s not about vengeance- It’s the deserved right to have justice! No more Victims- let’s become Victors!

Every voice matters- I implore you to awaken yours too!

Once, Twice, Three times a Victim

That is not how the chorus of that classic song goes. I know those lyrics well but changed the words to aptly describe me and the story I am about to tell. I have to wonder just how many times it takes for a wide eyed, bushy tailed, rose colored glasses clad person to constantly just walk themselves into a world of pain. One must be crazy to jump so quickly into trust when it should not necessarily be there, but it keeps happening to me time and time again. Of course my mind jumped to Einstein’s quote of the definition of insanity. Yes I am fully aware of the similarities- because WHY on earth do I keep expecting a different result?

I have yet to make public all the many times I have been sexually attacked. Maybe it’s fear of being judged or perhaps not wanting to be identified as only a victim.
The following story goes to show just how dangerous naivety can be. I no longer want to keep all my skeletons in the closet, so I will attempt to air out one more from the plethora I have to choose from.
Here goes nothing yet again……

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It was 2 months shy of a week before the 1 year mark of my previous rape. Cruel people that will never understand have referred to remembering that day as “making an anniversary out of it”, but that is not the case. When you have PTSD unfortunately it comes back with a big bang of unwanted memories as these become triggers that easily take us back to the day it happened in our minds. It feels like yesterday… or the exact time of the atrocious act. It might be seeing the location, a certain smell, a movie with a similar situation, or even a song that can instantly transport you back in time. Crippling, disabling, and devastation revisits in the blink of an eye.

So on this particular day I had this photo-shoot . An easy one to do as they were just head-shots which means less shooting and editing time. Easy Peasy. The man I was photographing was very attractive. He was the tall, dark, and handsome cliche, but also very Very cocky. I generally like to take a guy down a notch when they place themselves and their ego on such a high pedestal- Not in a mean way more it’s like I feel free to be my silly wacky self as I know I’m not interested in the slightest bit, so why not playfully tease a little? Harmless good fun for me and them in actuality… Normally…

I should not have agreed to meet “A” at his house but he refrained from sending me pictures of his suits and ties claiming they looked better on so I needed to see them in person beforehand, and we had chatted several times on the phone so against my better judgement I agreed. He answered the door without a shirt on, only workout pants. He adoringly spoke of his career change from being a top personal trainer for various organizations but now changing to follow his true passion of being in the finance world, so thus the need for head-shots. I confidently walked in to his bedroom where the pile of suits and shirts were, and also the circular rack of about 100 ties. Choosing the ones I wanted he grudgingly tries them on in front of me despite me looking away. He took my undeserved flattering compliment that what I chose would bring out the colors in his eyes (thankfully I don’t even remember the details of what the “windows of his soul” looked like) and the whole ensemble I put together with one other outfit change to maximize my time shooting was all set.

I insisted these were the best choice of using bolder colors and options to go against the somewhat plain buildings downtown that I had chosen. Against my better judgement (again) I agreed to drive with him since parking down there can be quite horrendous. His Hummer car we drove in was a clear way to flex his other muscles of material success, so believe me I heard PLENTY along that ride! *Gag* Could your ego be any bigger? I highly doubt it!- Sorry a personal pet peeve of mine. I don’t care that you have an expensive status symbol which drives the least fuel efficient tank, or your corvette he said he uses for work and such. Material things don’t matter much to me- I am not impressed by that- in fact it can become appalling to me when people place such importance on these things instead of engaging in soul searching to get to the core of why they feel this need to gloat their successes as a means to impress the opposite sex. Sorry Charlie I am not that kind of girl. Look elsewhere, and I am sure he did immediately after this was all said and done.

We got back to his apartment and he made up some BS challenge betting me that I wouldn’t be able to guess how many texts or calls he had missed in the about an hour of downtown shooting we had done. So I was moderately curious and said “OK how about around 40 Mr. Big Shot?”, but apparently it was around the 50 mark (maybe that was contrived with buddies that knew of his plans or perhaps girls that did want to hookup with him.) I’m not sure but it is definitely a plausible query that he might have asked his circle to text him a bunch inflating his confidence that I would be so-called putty in his hands so that he could score later. Speculation of course though. *Shuddering thinking of that possibility now*

Well I am a Bit strong willed and never go back on my word, so since I did not have any plans that night because sadly mine canceled the night proceeded forward. The inevitable terms of the challenge were: hang out, have a couple drinks, and play our mutually loved game on his Xbox. No Harm No Foul I figured as nothing was out of line (Even though I was already kicking myself that I should have driven myself to the shoot so I would have been free to peace out) … But my car was at his place…
And immediately he used defaming talk about Women how they think they can hold their drinks but then are such pussies (antagonizing much?!) I’m like HA! Not me buddy- those would be Girls you are referring to and I am a WOMAN! A strong single mom is who I am- used to carrying the world on my shoulders for myself and my dear sweet child with autism!

I never default on my word (to my detriment frequently) so I said that I would stay for a couple drinks and play our mutually favorite game that he didn’t believe that I loved. And then the first attempt happened… He started putting his hand on my leg and pulled my neck towards him so he could kiss me… And I pulled away. I was seeing someone at the time that I was head over heels for SO I especially had no intentions whatsoever. Befuddled at my rejection he stopped and we resumed playing the war game that we were battling- fitting for what would happen later!

After quite a but later he started moving closer to me on the couch clearly with the attempt to give it another go, but I stopped him again. “Let’s just play the game can’t we? I said. At this point I started to become especially leery as he then proceeded to go off on a tangent about how women always do this- act interested then don’t hookup as they are afraid to be branded a “Slut”. I started debating him saying how that is a very callous over-generalization and also an insulting assumption to unfairly put all women together into an intrepid pool that some absolutely do not belong to be in! Certainly some might, but that was bold-faced clear arrogance and ignorance to demean women like that! The hairs on the back of my neck started rising now, but since I had a couple drinks I didn’t want to leave right away as I do not ever drive if I have drank anything out of sheer paranoia. I suppose that is why he kept shoving booze in my face since that must have been what he was planning/hoping for. I constantly pushed away his drink offerings as I’m generally just a 2 drink girl with at least 2-4 waters in order to balance it out until I feel confident to be A-Ok to drive.

Talking to him a few minutes afterwards he then became infuriated and lunges at me picking me up like a china doll over his shoulder saying “I KNOW you want it you’re just acting like you don’t!!”, and then proceeded to secure my wrists in his hands while throwing me onto his bed repeating his former sentiment about me not wanting to admit I wanted him- that I was being a “Stupid girl playing F*cked up games”. Even though I kept on adamantly refusing. Being a former gym aficionado he was not kidding about all the things he bragged before about being able to hold all his body strength with one arm from the ground and other supposed world records he had made. He was freakishly scary strong.

My arms were pinned against me above my head, and even though I kept squirming to get away he wouldn’t release my wrists or get off of me as he was repeatedly subjecting me to violation. As I had already had quite a few other experiences similar to this I said NO loudly only to have him laugh saying that “You’ll never be able to overpower me” and his grip tightened. No matter how hard I tried and cried I could not move. Even though he was not the biggest of guys since he had so many different types of training under his belt it made things damn near impossible for a 127 pound woman to have the upper body strength to push him off or even knee him in the groin as my legs were being straddled to avoid that. Especially with both of my wrists still bound by his one of his hands above my head (I have incredibly small wrists). This went on for what felt like forever as he kept kissing me and my exposed flesh groping and pressing into me.

I never stopped telling him NO begging him to stop as the tears continued streaming down my face as this triggered old now reawakened demons in my closet. I still frantically was still trying to get free while his words of how “You couldn’t stop me no matter how hard you fight- Stop fighting it!!?” deafeningly rang in my ears. I tried not focusing on them only battling to regain my freedom as the tears kept falling down my cheeks like rain until finally he say “I’m going to rip your panties off”….. Immediately I used the seemingly only last ditch method of defense by whispering to him still shaking saying “I was raped last year almost to the day here SO Sex Will NOT Be Happening!!?

I shocked this sexual assaulter with these words and thankfully he then released me obviously realizing what an absolutely disgusting piece of scum he was. Who knows that might have saved my life since he was so angry at me. Oh but then proceeded to offer me a hug- ARE YOU F*CKING KIDDING ME?!? I was still sitting on the side of the bed sobbing and shaking, find my clothes that he had pulled off while I was still pinned to his bed, and then bolted out the door. It took me awhile to find them and also my keys (which I knew where I had left my keys so I have no doubt in my mind that he hid them).

I couldn’t process what had happened… Did I almost get raped again?… I was attacked and so close to it ALL happening again only this time I wasn’t drugged so I remember EVERY detail. I couldn’t think or barely see straight. I was in shock and unable to process what happened. I sped home in a foggy daze then quickly tried to erase my thoughts. Did that really just happen? It felt like I had watched it happening from the ceiling looking down paralyzed. Like viewing a movie screen- unable to fathom what was reality or what was not. Did this just happen only several minutes ago…?

Should I have gone to get what would be my second rape kit done? There would be no fluids found except saliva, the bruising on my wrists, and obvious other sorts of DNA from him on me. Especially if my case would’ve been taken seriously they could have combed his apartment for my hairs that most likely were pulled out- unless he cleaned up.The trauma he did put inside me with his fingers would have left DNA too had I realized it at the time. I wish I had called the cops… so very much.

I just couldn’t stop shaking and in an effort of self preservation I guess I just tried my hardest to brush the whole thing off hoping to numb and convince myself that nothing happened since he didn’t actually enter me (just fingers- which after SO many times of begging him to stop he wouldn’t- he would only dementedly laugh).

I just immediately started blaming myself on what could have happened, and how stupid I was to put myself into such a compromising situation even though previously we had bantered back and forth like brother and sister, so I didn’t feel warning signals of danger. However lo and behold those hairs on the back of my neck kicked in and I should have just driven down the road to a Walgreen’s store or something since I was afraid to drive or go somewhere nearby to a friends who might have been able to knock some sense into me out of these disbelieving paralyzing feelings I couldn’t shake.

• It would have been my fault if I had I not been able to stop him is all I could think. Could have easily been full on rape.
• It was all my fault to not have called the cops.
• I had a very moderately modest tank top dress that wasn’t too short, and I even had worn totally covering boy-cut underwear.
• I looked very professional with my closed-toe Maryjane shoes. I looked professional, confident, and I was being my true silly whacky self just trying to move upward and onward only looking behind from my past and only to my bright future.

Then WHAM I managed to get into yet another life altering situation that was eerily comparative

I was not asking for it at all. Yet I kept minimizing the gravity of it…. along with the self blame/hatred that came with it.
It’s funny that when you start talking about a traumatic experience others flood you with you their own (unfortunately the  Friends and Family you think would be there run away from you all too often though). Hard to not harbor a wee bit of resentment there. That is why I know I will an excellent counselor upon attaining my degrees. I actually started a deeply motivating career change that has helped and empowered me so much knowing that someday soon I will be able to help others that feel lost, depressed, numb, and feel like they have lost everything in their lives like I did. If it wasn’t for my my mother~who is my best friend and my son Lincoln I could have easily spiraled down so far, too far down as my head felt like it was sinking under the waves and I was screaming for help but NO ONE was listening. No not even anyone noticing my head barely staying afloat fighting these all consuming feelings of letting the tide take me under and drown.

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This is JUST not acceptable. I fully intend to start interning at SPARCC who helped me immensely thorough my darkest of days once I have my first degree under my belt by the end of the year hopefully. I want to submerge myself into helping people sooner then later. It is beyond words fulfilling and makes me feel like all the godawful things that happened to me led me to this place of self awareness, self power, and finally self love. That no one can Ever take away from me Ever again.

I know I am strong enough— This is fact not fiction !

Liar Liar pants on Fire…

Call me crazy if you would like but I just don’t understand why people cheat…
If you are not happy in the relationship and start desiring other people then just end things!
Clearly the relationship is either dysfunctional or not meeting your needs/desires. It’s the obvious beginning of the end so why not just pull the band-aid off in one swift motion instead of a painstakingly slow process that makes it hurt more…?

I think it’s a pretty fair assumption that a large percentage of us have been cheated on at least once in our lives (I know I have) and know firsthand how badly it stings and the wounds that leave an aftershock behind like a tsunami after an earthquake. Let’s face it we ALL have baggage in one way or another. That is why the phrase was coined to “find someone who loves you enough to help you unpack”. However call me crazy again if you would like, but I feel that it’s better to be alone than to be with someone and feel alone.

Life is so complicated sometimes…
You’re up
You’re down
You trust, love, and care
Hoping, expecting, and dreaming that this treatment will be returned only to realize all too often that you indeed set yourself up to experience major heartbreak (or heart-annihilation as I like to create my own terminology).
This game called love- it is quite the crazy little one it seems. How many epic love ballads are there on the radio from decades past and present music now? Would there even be half as many songs created if love was not used as a lyrical foundation? But the real meaty question I ponder sometimes if ultimately it’s just an ego stroke or a way of amusement for some. Picking up someone’s heart like a proverbial shiny new toy and then discarding it once the next perceived better one comes on the market.

People who have intentions such as this are like cancer. You get the initial diagnosis. Then remove the tumor with surgery so it’s cut out, but draining chemotherapy to fix this life or death situation is oftentimes still needed. A proactive cleansing so to speak. Maintenance is also necessary in order to ensure one’s long term health.
Scars are left but only should serve the purpose of showing us where we have been. They do not and should not dictate where we are going. Learning to have faith and hope in love again is no easy process by any means after we have endured such pain, but we must enter the future with a clean slate if we want a shot at Real love.

I do believe it is truly out there for me and everyone else too. It’s just waiting for the moment you have progressed to a state of health, stability, self-love, and have developed independence knowing you don’t Need anyone to create your happiness because you know how to make it yourself. It’s liberating and amazing to free yourself from that emotional prison since you are the one possessing the key, so it cannot be taken away unless you entrust someone to hold it. Once you have gotten to that point you know what else they say- that it is only when you least expect and stop seeking love out that it then proceeds to falls into your lap. “You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one” John Lennon said. I’ll leave with a lesser known quote by him that I love:

 “You don’t need anybody to tell you who you are or what you are. You are what you are!”

Karma (ahhh)

They say you cannot truly love someone else until you truly love yourself.
Today I can say with unwavering certainty that I love the woman I have become.

Physically I know I can survive anything as comparing the excruciating process of natural childbirth dwarfs anything else; however emotional pain was/is always an uphill battle like trying to gain control of momentum on a roller coaster. The name of my roller coaster was Husband. The terror of the ride still haunts me. I remember with perfect clarity so many times he stood over me laughing at his own destruction and making a mockery out of my pain. I would be curled up in a ball laying in the fetal position on the floor of our bathroom (the designated spot I chose and went to countless times) crying so hard I would vomit gasping for air barely able to breathe. Eventually 10-30 minutes or so later he’d come in laughing, pull me up on my feet, hug me, and then say a derogatory comment while still laughing condescendingly.

Then, with a smile on his face and amusement in his voice, he’d tear me down even further. It was almost like foreplay for him. He enjoyed it. Sometimes, he would even become sexually aroused, and it sickens me to think of what I unwillingly permitted more often than not to happen.

Looking back now, my own tolerance and permissiveness, sickens me. Why didn’t I leave?! Why did I stay? I tried to bury some of those atrocities deep down inside myself, in an effort to block it out and forget. But I didn’t forget.  His abuse planted seeds of self-hatred and self-doubt so deep in my soul…. seeds that I let him plant and I let grow inside of me. Then drastically grew into an overpowering entity of bitter resentment eating me inside and out. The longer I avoided facing the pain I’d been through, the more overwhelming the bitterness and resentment became. You never forget pain like that.

I realized, I don’t have to avoid it anymore. I can’t.

I do not wish to hate the father of my child and would never wish that upon my worst enemy, but here I was sitting 3 years post divorce letting his cruelty haunt my usually happy demeanor with flashbacks from the past. I have decided to accept what I cannot change and acknowledge my own fault in that I allowed myself to be abused so long without standing up for myself. Most people go into Fight or Flight response but instead I went into a state closely resembling a kicked puppy dog whimpering with a tail in-between it’s legs. I let it happen over and over again. I did allow myself to be demeaned, but Not anymore.

“The only thing that is ultimately real about your journey is the step that you are taking at this moment. That’s all there ever is.”
~Eckhart Tolle

Today the ongoing battle of custody/child support came to a climactic conclusion. The dreaded court case that made me lose so much sleep and gain so many new grey hairs is now finally over! I was petrified that I would fall to pieces and directly on my face. Not the case in this case however. I held my head up high even while being cross examined by the devil incarnate himself in the courtroom, and ended up winning everything I asked to be paid. Heck- I could have even asked for more and most likely would have been granted it, but I am perfectly content knowing that I finally got a piece of the delicious karmic pie I’ve been desiring to taste for so long now. Like a stranded traveler in the desert starving for water who constantly only saw mirages. Only this time I got to savor it for real and it left such a sweet aftertaste in my mouth.

Every single horrific experience in my past shaped me into a stronger person as I survived each and every single one of those moments even when doubt came to mind if I could withstand it all. Every so often I have those moments of clarity in life where the stars align and I can finally feel an overpowering urge of utter joy bursting at the seams. I want to jump up and down or twirl around dancing today knowing I took action and changed things for the better for my son and I.

My life is exactly where it should be and I am exactly who I should be. I know my strengths and I know my weaknesses. I know myself finally. Who could ask for anything more?

*Explicit* Read this if you Dare…

I have noticed that curse words tend to be 4 letters in length. More importantly I have noticed that every time I try to write rape or even abuse on my Iphone it auto-corrects it to say tape and abide. Even Apple doesn’t want to use or acknowledge these words. It seems to fall into a category of Hush-Hush, Shhhhh, and Don’t talk Don’t tell. Much like the now abandoned rule for homosexuals in the military. Why does this topic receive such little attention and awareness though? When there are murders, robberies, or even car crashes the media instantly leaps and bounds out of their chairs to report every detail of these crises, but in the event of a rape NO ONE bats an eyelash unless they are personally effected by this disaster. God forbid a celebrity were to get abused (like how Rihanna was physically assaulted) because then everyone has a loud voice and rallies for support. What about us commoners who are scared, alone, and have no means to receive any support? Maybe it is because the overall population seems wanting to remain blissfully ignorant and maintain their silence.

I recently read an article that sickened me to my very core: “Fewer than one rape victim in 30 can expect to see her or his attacker brought to justice, shocking new statistics reveal. Although 90 per cent of rape victims said they knew the identity of their attacker, just 15 percent went to the police, telling researchers it was “too embarrassing”, “too trivial” or a “private/family matter”.
(retrieved via http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/crime/100000-assaults-1000-rapists-sentenced-shockingly-low-conviction-rates-revealed-8446058.html)

I knew the man who raped me. And the several others who attacked me. Did I receive justice? No. And I went through the heinous process via police and the emergency room in order to REALLY try to stand up this time. However it was to no avail and only kept things fresh in my mind. Hurting me even more profoundly was the morning I found out about his death (obviously no charges could ever be now) and saw his face plastered all over my Facebook saying what a “Great loss to our community and the art world he was. What a tragedy this was”- How about the tragedy of him violating me repeatedly?

The actress Teri Hatcher from the popular TV show “Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman” had the opportunity and gumption to share her story of sexual abuse on the United Nations day in November of 2014 that was called:

Commemoration of the International Day to End Violence against Women

She held back tears saying “I am 1 of 3 women who was forced to accept violence as a part of their life story…I am the one who yells from the rooftops until those numbers change, until every woman who has faced abuse, feels less alone and safe enough to find the courage to have her own voice. Until violence against women is not a part of any woman’s story. Silence will not be part of mine”! To her I can only say BRAVO!

1 in 3 women…. that could be your mother, sister, or daughter….
Let that sink in….

Later in the interview she goes on to say how she later found out her attacker not surprisingly continued this cycle of abuse with another victim (leopards don’t seem to ever change their spots do they?) and sadly this 11 year old girl had wrapped her head in a towel and shot herself in the head. In her suicide letter Teri’s attacker was revealed and implicated to having been abusing this poor girl for years. How could this have happened? Well society does cast a very unappealing light- using blaming questions like “What were you wearing? Were you drinking?”! “Shaming the victim by saying “Why did you stay?” or “Why didn’t you say something?” Instead of MORE importantly why did her abuse her?! Watch Teri’s inspirational speech I urge you! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qFwXrBEQw1E)

The question MUST be asked why/how are there still hundreds of thousands of victims who remain silent for years missing the statute of limitations to press charges, but even sadder are the ones who immediately go and destroy all the evidence in the shower preventing any chance to find proof….?
….I didn’t…. I couldn’t even shower for days and then couldn’t sleep for an entire week.

Every 107 seconds, another American is sexually assaulted.

Here’s the math. According to the U.S. Department of Justice’s National Crime Victimization Survey (NCVS)–there is an average of 293,066 victims (age 12 or older) of rape and sexual assault each year.

For an eye opening quick read the above info was retrieved via https://www.rainn.org/statistics.
This is just NOT acceptable! Do you want to remain part of the problem by hiding away until something like this happens to you or someone you love? Or perhaps join a new movement of awareness and become part of the cure? I have the upmost respect for anyone who is not afraid to speak out and share their thoughts unabashedly… like one of my beloved heroes John Lennon. He openly and outright expressed his disdain for our society demanding to being heard and in doing so had a hand in forever leaving a change in the world. Only the good die young they say- I can’t help but wonder what else he might have had shined some enlightenment on? I dare say the world would be a strikingly better place….

What if…? A dangerous question

It seems that eventually in life we encounter an inevitable fork in one of the many crossroads we face as adults, and suddenly find ourselves caught up in a whirlwind trying to determine which way to proceed. Choosing one person to date instead of another, whether or not to get married, which house to buy, and heck even where to eat dinner! All of those things have the potential to be disastrous unfortunately- the chosen relationship turns toxic and chances are that someone much better for you passed by, you inadvertently bought a “money pit” of a house or worse yet end up a victim of crime there, and the chance of food poisoning is always prevalent eating out too! Not necessarily meant to be negative connotations here- just little reminders that we do not even realize most of the time how our choices come with either good or bad consequences. Had we chosen “left” instead of “right” or “A” instead of “B” then obviously there would have been a different outcome.

The point however is that we will drive ourselves mad pondering all the “What if’s”. It can be quite the slippery slope. To illustrate: a little bit of alcohol, bacon, red meat, or sugar is just fine but too much will cause your body to break down in a multitude of diseases. The same would become of our heart, mind, and soul if we were to indulge excessively in this behavior. Moderation is the most easily disregarded implement we can have in our tool-belt.
Asking ourselves thought-provoking questions about our past can indeed be healthy and beneficial for obtaining enlightenment and growth, but again an over-sized portion will have an unhealthy opposite effect. I think of it as corrosion of our spirit, and just like how the batteries in our vehicles need check-ups and replacements we too need these reality checks in order to maintain the power inside ourselves. I love Wikipedia (I have an app that gives me daily info and am a happy little nerd with each post) so I looked up the definition of this commonly known phrase:

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions is a proverb or aphorism. An alternative form is “hell is full of good meanings, but heaven is full of good works“.

How much hidden truth is in that second meaning? We can create hell or heaven for ourselves with our actions and our choices alone. The blame game serves no purpose for attaining personal growth. If we humbly accept our mistakes then we are laying the first brick down on the path of altruism. This path has many twists and turns so learning from our past transgressions and changing our course NOW is the surest way to secure safer and happier future steps.
Why not start now? What have you got to lose besides emotional clutter inside that can be cleaned up spic and span and cleared out to make space for blissfully happy new experiences. Here is a quote from Buddha that I love:

“We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.”

Thoughts become beliefs, beliefs become behaviors, and then ultimately become the actions we take in all of our decisions to follow. I say pull out the weeds and make room for planting beautiful seeds that will unquestionably bring fulfilling satisfaction and the upmost content imaginable.

My Rose-colored glasses may have Cracks- But I’m still wearing them

When did caring become such an undesirable quality?

It appears that kindness is oftentimes portrayed more to be weakness in this day and age instead of a cherished endearing quality. We were all born with a clean slate after all, so I believe that we are capable of this natural propensity. However when life throws unavoidable curve-balls sometimes an unnatural shift or learned coping behavior sets in to safeguard ourselves. So many people can reach a horrific point of being shut off completely. Is this a subconscious or unconscious choice as a way of self preservation? I often ponder that thought….

After recent discussions with friends and family who are so closed off and frequently chastise me for being so open it just hurts my heart immensely. Especially seeing plenty of humanity fall into this abhorrent trap of negativity. Albeit certain circumstances happen beyond our control such as: child or adulthood abuse, addiction, death, natural disasters, terrorism, and many other countless tragedies that happen every day. Instead of rising up against the surmounting obstacles it certainly is easier to wallow in despair (as I most certainly have done in the past and still struggle with when one or all of the balls in this juggling act I call life fall), and despite our best actions we may feel that we cannot recover.

Our hearts can become hardened much like how trans fats clog up our arteries- thus preventing life supporting blood we desperately need flowing throughout our bodies in order to maintain physical well-being. The waiting list for ailing hearts to receive life-saving transplant surgery is far too long and unfortunately not enough donors can reach debilitated ones in time. If healthy steps are not taken on our part to change then we could find ourselves rapidly deteriorating.

Philosophically speaking I want to be a child again…. carefree, unabashed to society, and joy-filled. Happiest over the tiniest of things because we inherently know who we are before we are told who to be.
The question begs to be asked then at what age does this unfavorably set in? High school, puberty, or even elementary school for particularly shy tykes (like myself)? Flash forward to adulthood and now the world beats its deafening indoctrination into us on a daily basis. Sinking it deeper and deeper into our psyche and most times we are not even aware of it.

Why shouldn’t we be allowed to follow the song in our hearts? March to our own drum beats? Dream our dreams and not be afraid to follow them to fruition or to failure? Thankfully my sweet son has shown me quite simply how joyful it is acknowledging the small wonders of life.
Appreciatively he reminds me daily of just how awesome it is to have the chance to act like a kid again! When you are a child you just do things because they feel good. Dancing, singing, swinging, jumping into puddles, and playing with our imaginations endlessly to name just a few! No judgement- No guilt – No shame or embarrassment. It reminds me of the quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson: “The sun illuminates only the eye of the man, but shines into the eye and the heart of the child”.

Look up at the sky every day. Notice the cloud variations, the sunrises and sunsets, or if you can visit the beach at night watch the stars light up that beautiful canvas- if you are lucky enough perhaps you may just catch a heat lightning storm dancing on display. If you don’t “Stop and smell the Roses” you are missing out on an indescribable monetary free amount of wealth for your soul. It is your choice and yours alone- Change your thoughts Change your world. So much happiness and fulfillment can be missed if instead of having on these seemingly silly rose colored glasses we are viewing the world through thick dark shades completely hiding the windows of our souls. If we only get one life I want to make sure that every day mine is filled with acknowledgement of beauty and appreciation. The gift of life is not a given right, and after all it’s called the Presence which is a wonderful reminder that life is indeed a Present!

One of our absolute favorite pastimes – Running along the beach to watch the sunset. He never seems to stop running or grinning and giggling!! He gets that from his Mama

Autism Moms are Tough as Nails

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Well I feel like I could bench press a semi truck!
The gravity of all the responsibility, care, and understanding that being a special needs parent entails is something you don’t realize you are handling so well at the time (I am always thinking there is something else I could be doing better for my sweet boy), but once you step back an Ah-ha moment of how rewarding it can be suddenly appears if you are lucky enough to catch that awareness.

I had the last 3 days off from my special needs single mama duty and something hit me like a ton of bricks- in an eye-opening enlightened way.
I finally get why people tell me such heartfelt things about how they can see the love, care, and patience I have for Lincoln with every photo or status I post. The best compliment I could ever receive in my life truly!
If your child is fairly non-verbal (like my sweet boy) then an inner private detective has to come out every time they are sick since they cannot tell you what is wrong. Imagine for a moment that you almost have to be like a veterinarian in a way since you have to sense what they are feeling without words and take care accordingly for their well-being.

Challenging? Yes. Rewarding? Yes. Indescribably so.

I sometimes see parents when I am out in public tell their kids to shutup-
It angers and saddens me beyond belief I must admit. Usually I just offer a consolatory smile to hopefully diffuse the situation a little bit however sometimes I feel the need to share a sincere dose of perspective…
Generally something to the affect of:

“You don’t know how lucky you are to hear your child’s thoughts- I would give the world to hear my sons thoughts!”

-This usually stops them dead in their tracks and makes them realize that instead of silencing their child(ren) they should enjoy the gift they do not even know they have. It is not meant to be condescending in any way shape or form- just a small reality check. A little awareness goes a LONG way. For anyone who either has autism, daily navigates the tricky road of autism parenting, and also for “regular” children and parents (I abhor using the word normal) as well. Appreciate what you have however you have it. Children are a blessing beyond what words can ever describe in a limitless amount of ways…

They say you don’t know true love until you have a child and I couldn’t agree more. It truly is a momentous occasion to forever have your heart walk around outside of you on this earth, and it is your given right thereafter to embrace that love with your whole heart chock full of gratitude. I believe with my entire soul that if I were to get hit by a bus tomorrow I would die content knowing that I gave my all to him.
Is there anything more you could ask for in this world…?

The day he realized he wasn’t scared of bubbles anymore at a therapy appointment. Bliss.

My love. My everything.