Category: Uncategorized

Free

MichelleR

I was thinking about the phrase, “The Truth will set me free,” and I hope that is still true. In a time where we are constantly bombarded with “spin” and scripted reality-TV it can be hard to hear the truth over the propaganda, separate understanding from ego, and reject blind-obedience for scientific-method.

I find myself at a crossroads both in my physical health and spirit. Intuitively, I know they are connected. I am on a spiritual trajectory inwards and upwards to my highest self. Yet I am aware that I need to declare my independence from the image people may have of me, who they perceive me and want me to be. To disrobe my compliance for the sake of security. I need to be free, finally, at 50, to be myself. My health and heart require it too. And so here we are reader.

Who am I? – I am Crone. The wise one with scars seen and hidden, whose inner strength as been tested and found worthy. I am the one who loves my experienced life and body with quiet confidence. I am coach, champion and lover of my female clan. I no longer wish to compete or compare but instead to lift, support and inspire. I am not afraid to acknowledge the beauty of others and it does not diminish or negate my own. I am Mother. Fierce and tender; a forgiver of all transgression and singer of lullabies. My arms ready to cradle and hold my babes no matter what age or world they live in. A mother who wants a better world for her children than the one she lives in now. I want them to stop being sexually harassed and marginalized. I want them to feel safe and strong in a school room and a board room. I want them to receive equal pay, equal opportunities and equal rights. I want them to know that I will always support them and love them. Always. Which means:

  • I will celebrate and support their love with whoever they choose.
  • I will celebrate and support their career choices, whatever they decide to become.
  • I will celebrate and support their individual freedom to think for themselves, choose for themselves, and not place my beliefs and ideas as a guilt trip to carry until I am dead.
  • I will support and defend them, my fellow sisters and brothers, my LGBTQQIP2SAA friends and family, and any other oppressed and marginalized humans until we once again all feel free.

I have been afraid for a long-time that speaking in a public forum would bring the scorn and judgement that I have avoided since childhood. I expect some of you still reading this will unfriend me, and if it easy to be a friend when we agree but not when we disagree then the choice is easy. There are those of you who know me so well and already know this is who I am so this is no surprise. But it is not my job to be who you want me to be, I am being true to my calling and my purpose.

This will the last entry for the AZBlergBlog, and it is fitting that it be this one. Tomorrow is a new day. The 4th of July. And I am just beginning my freedom. There is so much more to come.

Free to be Me

I love where I come from and I love where I am heading. I love my age, wrinkles and body. I love my partner/husband/best friend. I love my daughters who are my soul and breath. I love God, my Angels, Ancestors and Guides. I love this beautiful Earth and connectedness of all living things. I love my drums, my incense, my crystals and yoga. I love the way I pray and the way I listen. I love my family, siblings, friends, and past. I love my family and friends and whoever they love. I love writing, manifesting, and positive mindset. I love oracle cards and reiki and hypnotherapy and alternative and indigenous healing arts. I love you as you read this judging me or supporting me. I love my life and I am free to be me.

8. The Morning Routine

MichelleR

This Pinterest challenge is a real winner in my book. I am not a morning person, but this Pin and my motivation to instill habits of health in my life have created a routine that I find myself looking forward to. The premise is that the way we start our day and what we focus on can play an important role in how we deal with the challenges and opportunities that will present themselves. Since I get up about 4:30 am every morning with my husband, I have plenty of time to do all this before work. I don’t need to be on social media or watch the news, I need to focus on what is best for me and my health. I have been doing this for about 3 weeks now (which is why I named it Pin #8. See, I have been doing my part – just slacking in the posting department), and I have to say, I can tell the days I skip. I am finding I need this routine because it grounds and focuses me on making healthy eating choices, moving more, smiling more, listening more, and not being stressed out about everything that is happening around me. And with the pandemic, I need to stay focused on the positive and my locus of control. I love all the the Habits here but I focus on these seven every morning and I love it! It has helped me so much, and I hope it helps you too! https://www.pinterest.com/pin/172755335695075662/

  • Habit #1: Get up right away. At the sound of your alarm count down, “5, 4, 3, 2, 1” and get up. This eliminates thinking about how much time you have before you have to “really get up”, which isn’t restful anyway. Set the alarm for when you have to get up and do it.
  • Habit #2: Make your bed right away. It makes you feel like you already have accomplished something before the sleep is even out of your eyes.
  • Habit #3: Repeat an affirmation: I have this link here for the affirmations I love and I start my day with the next one on the list. If I really love it, I write it on sticky note and keep it at the front of my planner. This is my day’s “battle cry” and I like to remind myself of what I am capable of. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/172755335695626568/
  • Habit #4: Journal – It doesn’t have to be long, just write. You can free write, dream journal, or use a prompt like the ones in this link. Just get your mind moving. I like the prompts because they inspire me to keep focused on working on becoming a better version of myself: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/172755335695531390/
  • Habit #5: Meditate: In the blog, Laivana gives links to some great 4 and 5 minute morning meditations to get you in a positive mindset. You can definitely find hundreds on youtube of any length. I started with her blog recommendations but I definitely have expanded to try lots more. Searching for a good mediation is now a fun part of my morning routine.
  • Habit #6: Yoga. This is probably the #1 reason why this routine has really kicked in for me. I love to use the youtube videos called Yoga with Adriene. She is awesome, not annoying, has videos from 5 min to whatever you have time for, her dog is frequently assisting her, and they are DOABLE! I will even post the video that got me hooked and has now has me doing longer and longer videos because it makes me feel good! https://www.youtube.com/user/yogawithadriene
  • Habit #7: Focus on the positive. List 10 things you are grateful for each morning. I include this with my journaling time and many times am smiling while I write them!
  • There are three other habits she recommends in her blog but I sort of wrap a few of them later into my day. She lists a morning skin care routine (but I incorporate that with my shower); prepping in advance (like setting out your clothes and making your lunch the night before), but with the Virus I haven’t needed that yet; and taking inspired action – you choose your life every day. I try to take that with me throughout the day (especially right now as I remind myself that I choose everything that I eat) so make good choices. Choices that make you healthy and happy.

Maybe it seems overwhelming to try 10 new habits to add to your day, so just try one or two. Then add a few more each week. It really doesn’t take that much time and has been a positive mindset changer for me. Tell me in the comments: What is one part of your morning routine that really makes you feel awesome and you absolutely can’t do without. (And you can leave out the coffee and the constitutional – that goes without saying.)

Here is the video that got me hooked! Anyone can do 5 minutes!

10. Makeup Tutorial -Part 2

MichelleR

To round out the house-bound beauty pageant I was throwing for myself I chose an eye make-up tutorial for brown eyes. Yes, my eyes are brown, thank you for never noticing. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/172755335695584249/

I normally do not wear a lot of makeup. I would consider myself a slight to moderate makeup connoisseur. I own more than I would ever wear (especially lipsticks) and mostly because I don’t really know how to wear it. I love how it looks on other people, but I don’t ever feel like I really pull it off. So, this pin, “Simple Everyday Eye Makeup – Beauty Point of View” sounded easy enough for me and since there were only a couple of items required I chose it. Looking back, I wish I had chosen something more wild and crazy and completely ridiculous, but we’ll save that for another Pinterest Challenge week. So here is Part 2 of the makeup tutorials: Pinterest Challenge #10: Eye Makeup.

9. Makeup Tutorial – Part 1

MichelleR

It’s been a while since I posted a video of me making a fool of myself and with the quarantine in place and an insane amount of time on my hands, I decided not to clean my closet and video myself doing a couple of Pinterest Makeup Tutorials. What could go wrong?

Here is the link to the Pinterest tutorial I followed (because I had this makeup already): Anastasia Beverly Hills Cream Contour Kit Review and Demo https://www.pinterest.com/pin/172755335695584212/

For my 9th Pinterest Challenge I chose a tutorial that I have been fascinated by for a few reasons: Contouring. Firstly, I know that you can use this trick for stage to either age yourself or make yourself appear younger. But, I always thought that was because you are so far away from the audience. I never thought about wearing contouring makeup for real life and walking outside in public! It seems insane unless you were having it done by a professional makeup artist (aka you’re a Kardashian). Nevertheless, there are countless tutorials on the site, with all ages of people, claiming they look magazine-cover-ready, all from a shading tip. I was like, really? This cannot be for real. Especially if you are older than 20. And since I am well past that age, this is going to look like a I was in a Mud Run. So, while it’s a little long (I cut as much as I could) here is my first ever attempt at contouring:

Preserves

MichelleR

My mom loved to can. In the summer we would drive to the farms near the delta to buy flats of tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and all manner of fruit. I would watch as she transformed the kitchen into a factory filled with steam from the boiling water and the smells of cinnamon, dill and vinegar. She was amazing. Quart jar after quart jar would color our garage pantry shelf. Red, greens, oranges, yellows and deep purple for our family favorite: prune butter. By the end of the summer our shelves were filled and it was a source of pride for her survey her efforts reflected back in the glass of those beautiful jars.

My mom was a nurse. She went back to school to finish her nursing degree when my youngest brother went to to Kindergarten. I was around 12 and her determination to fulfill her dreams was my first glimpse at feminism; how a woman can have family and career and rock them both. She was so smart and my whole family wanted her help. There isn’t a person I can think of who did not call my mom at some point to ask about a rash or a pain or the color of baby poop to see what it all meant. And she loved it. She loved helping and healing people. She revealed to me an inner strength that I would not see or know I would need until years later. Picking up the pieces of my life after my divorce I frequently repeated the mantra, “My mom did this; so can I”. And I did. And I know the roots any success I have lead back to my mom.

My mom was a singer. She loved to sing. She sang in chorus in high school. She sang in church choirs, at masonic functions, weddings and parties. She closed her eyes while she sang and you could hear in her voice the smile spread across her lips. She made a song for each of my girls when they were born. She sang them that song so often that even when I sing it now she will join me, though she cannot form complex sentences. Her favorite songs were for the Lord and her conviction and faith were as vibrant as her notes. I believe she was closest to God during those choruses of Halellujah.

My mom was a seamstress. In almost every photo I have of me as a little girl I am wearing a dress my mother made me right up until Jr. High when I started to feel the peer pressure of labels. She made me beautiful formal gowns for Rainbow girls. She made my dad silk shirts and Pendleton coats. She made all of us (dad, her, me and my two brothers) matching turtle tank tops that we wore on vacation to the Grand Canyon.We proudly posed for a family photo in them. She made my daughters dress after dress for them and their dollies. She could sew anything. She sewed because we didn’t have money and it was cheaper to make clothes back then, but I know that when someone complimented our outfits she was proud to say,”Oh, I made that.”

My mom began to die about 10 years ago. At first everyone thought she was just tired or stressed. Her words were mixed up frequently and sometimes she would be right in the middle of a sentence and look at you with blank eyes and say, “I have no idea what I am going to say”. A year later she was forgetting dates and times, forgetting to pick up her grandchildren for babysitting. Forgetting to set the car in park. She was diagnosed with early on-set Alzheimers. All the books I read made me so angry. Nothing was good. There was no cure. There is no treatment besides mild prolongation. It has been what I call, ‘A 10-year Funeral’ and every few years I breakdown completely as my dad and our family mourn another piece robbed by this hellborn disease. I hate what I know will come. I hate how she knows what is happening to her still. I hate that she was robbed of her words and her songs. I hate being helpless to do anything. I hate that each Mother’s Day I can’t help but reflect back to who my mother was.

My mother is a nurse, a singer, a chef and wife. She is a healer, counselor, friend and partner. She is a Nana, a seamstress, a PTA president, a carpool driver, a water-skier, a bologna sandwich roll-up maker and a prayer warrior. I won’t forget that. I won’t let anyone forget that. Just like her famous tomato sauce and apricot jam. I promise you that mom. I promise you that.

One Year

MichelleR

A year ago this weekend I was finishing up the Young Playwrights Competition at RTAA as Franky and my family finished packing up our house and loading the moving van. I spent the evening being surprised out of my mind at the outpouring of love and well wishes and to this day I wear the watch the board gifted me with every single day. There is part of me that will always remain there as a spirit on that stage that was my home for over 25 years. I have spent a lot of time reflecting this past year and here are some nuggets. This is more of a journal entry so most of it will not make sense to anyone but me. But, feel free to try.

  1. Women are essential: This is a picture of Katie’B. Katie’B was my cubicle mate at Childsplay and acted as my trainer on Patron Manager and a host of other duties. For the past 7 years I had spent almost every single day with my partner, Jennifer, who knew my every nuance and could read me better than I could read myself. I took her for granted and I wish I could go back and spend more time with her outside of work. Katie’B represents the new women I have met since moving here; Arizona is filled with amazing women too! Women who cheer for each other and accept me into their circle without hesitation. I could name so many but if I left even one out I would be remiss. From Childsplay to the City of Peoria to my family living here I have finally been able to take stock in how much other women impact me. I regret being so busy for so long that I missed the opportunity to know the amazing women I left in California. And to my California family and friends who have continued to be a part of my new journey please know I love and value you. I wish we were closer and could be together more. I hate that it took me moving away to know your impact.

2. Having the right partner is paramount: To quote Sinead “Nothing compares to you.” (And you have to sing it to get the full effect) How can I ever feel homesick when home is a person? Home is feeling his support and love. Home is encouragement to pursue whatever my dreams are – including Marie Kondo, bullet journaling, needing an entire room of scrapbooking supplies, traveling, acting – you name it – this man has never discouraged me. Everywhere with him feels like home. When I ask him, “Did we do the right thing?” – and yes, I have asked that, he just grins and says, “well we can’t go back now.” That is how he lives his whole life – he doesn’t wander though the past and ask what if’s. He regrets nothing because it put him exactly where he is today. He lives each day as if it were a new chance, a new start. He doesn’t carry expectations for tomorrow or pull out old scars from the past – and he is teaching me. I love this man with every fiber of my being and I pray that my daughters find a partner like him one day to sit shot-gun with in the great moving van of life. 10-4 Good buddy, come on.

3. Time zones are stupid: I love that I never have to set my clock forward or back. Neener-Neener.

4. Sometimes a theatre goes dark: This one is a difficult subject for me. Someday I may choose to make it public why my personal “theatre” went dark, but not yet. Let’s just say I needed to check my premise (there is only one person who will get that reference). What is beautiful is that it has clarified for me why I love theatre, what I am passionate about, and what my purpose is. To that end – let’s leave it as my “ghost light” is still on.

5. Even a cactus holds beauty: I LOVE the desert. I just love it. Right now the blossoms are getting ready to bud. I feel just like them. Something is getting ready to bloom. I feel it; I will it. I don’t accept a different result. This year has not at all been what I planned or how I planned it. But at the same time I feel like I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

“This was reality, she thought, this sense of clear outlines, of purpose, of lightness, of hope. This was the way she had expected to live – she wanted to spend no hour and take no action that would mean less than this.”

The Path is The Path

MichelleR

Today I almost didn’t. I had the day off and as I drank my coffee I thought of the million little things I needed to get done. I need to finish Marie Kondo-ing my books/papers. I need to wash my car. I need to do meal prep for the week. The list is endless, just like yours. But recently it hit me that we will be in Arizona one year at the end of March. And I haven’t done the one thing that pulled my heart to this state to begin with. I want to be in it’s beautiful desert. And yes, we live in a desert state but seriously, the Phoenix valley is developed. I mean get IN it. Why haven’t I done the one thing my heart really wants to do?

I simply find the path of least resistance easier, like many of us do, and I chose to do what is easy rather than what is new or maybe appears harder. This is why I battle with weight, this is why I don’t blog or write every single day, this is why I cannot for the life of me seem to finish knitting my sister-in-laws scarf I wanted to give her two Christmas’ ago! I’m just gonna say it: I’m lazy and most days I choose to just “blerg” my way through. But not today.

Today I just got up and went. I got my water and left a detailed description of my clothes with Frank (in case someone has to identify my remains after the coyote attack) and I got in my car and drove the 5 minutes to the most beautiful desert trail, the Thunderbird Conservation Park. I felt like a dork because I am not an experienced hiker at all. So I had a back pack full of water and granola bars in case I got my hand stuck between two rocks like that guy from 147 Hours. I realized it was a little overkill when a couple in their 70’s asked to pass me because I was too slow. But my point is that I got on the path.

The view was glorious and the air was fresh and cool. The sun warmed my soul and my shoulders and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. “What took you so long?” my heart asked me. “I was just stuck,” I said. I was so excited I climbed up the Ridgeline path because I wanted to be able to see how far I could go before a heart attack occurred. As I climbed, my mind raced with ideas, both for writing and for returning. Now that I had disrupted my inertia could I come back every week? How long will it take me to train so I can hike around the whole preserve?

This is what I do though, I jump from one thought to the next. So, as I reached the ridgeline, I stopped and I took out one of my water bottles and sat. I looked at the view and thought of nothing. I just let my mind rest. And my heart rate slowed and my eyes focused on the small rocks and shrubs at my feet and I saw a lizard and an orange butterfly (that may have been a moth). And I thought of the work that I moved here to accomplish for myself. After a while I made a stone stack overlooking where the paths split below. I’m trying hard to let go of my need to know which path is right or where I should be. Whichever path I take is correct because I am on it and there is so much beauty to see.

Give Me Some of that Marie Kondo Kool-aid, Please.

MichelleR

Step 1: The Challenge

In my continuing quest to better myself and really enjoy my life, I wanted to actually try one of the things I read about. I have a Pinterest type habit of seeing or hearing something I think would be fantastic for me and then “pinning” it to a board in the back of my mind to be lost forever.

I watched the Marie Kondo program on cable a few times and was intrigued by her absolute confidence that you would never go back to old un-tidy habits. I raised my brows as she had clients talk to their clothing. I marveled at how much “stuff” people owned, and how much they could part with. And, part with it happily. So I decided on my latest trip to our fantastic city library to check out her book. And I read it. I found myself agreeing with her; the logic behind her reasoning was making sense. I wanted to try it for myself.

Step 2: Diving in

I announced this plan to Franky who basically rolled his eyes and smiled. But I will prove to him that this was not my knitting, dieting, baking, gardening, exercising, painting, or daily blogging type of commitment. I am serious about this. I want to be happy with less and by God I am going to do it so I can find joy in my damn tidy house!

This is where you come in, my tens of fans. I need the accountability of knowing that someone will follow up. What better way than for me to blog through my steps and show my progress. Plus I really want to follow through on something I start for once. I will not just “pin” this!

This absurd pile is ‘step one’ in the Marie Kondo method: clothes. I love her requirement that you do not clean room by room but by category. I was to take all my clothes from all 3 closets, my dresser, side table and floor and put them in a big pile. She divided them into sub-categories for people with off the chain issues and that is me for sure. This pile is just tops.

Step 3: Don’t sink

At first I just stared at the mountain of clothes (tops ) in front of me, embarrassed by how much I had. Even more ridiculous is that there are sweaters decades old, threadbare and torn shirts, and jackets that look horrible on me. I don’t even wear more than half of this. Yet, I let it accumulate and shove in whatever is new. Enough!

I did exactly what Marie suggested: I held up each top and waiting to see if it made me feel joyful. If it did, I kept it, regardless of size (which is important and I will get to that later) or age. If it didn’t, if I felt it’s usefulness was over, even if it was relatively new, I put it in a bag. At the end of the pile I had five Glad bags full of top. And it felt good to let the clothes go. I kept going. Bottoms, suits/hang-up item like dresses, socks, underwear, bras, swimsuits, even hats, gloves, scarves and belts. It didn’t stop there either. I was so excited and actually felt lighter and lighter as I let things go. I then hit those things sacred to women everywhere:purses and shoes. And even then I was fine. The safety net is that if you really love something you will keep it. So there is nothing to worry about. You will keep everything you love and makes you happy. Even if it doesn’t fit and is faded and worn. If it brings you joy, it belongs with you.

So many of my past attempts at purging were unsuccessful because I would reason that I may loose weight so I’ll keep it. Or the worst idea, if you haven’t worn it in a year throw it out. Those methods didn’t work for me. Kondo’s method did. At the end of the clothing purge I had nine full Glad bags of items to donate. And more closet and drawer space than I ever imagined. One closet will be plenty for me. With at least 1/3 of my unwanted, non-joy-giving, clothes gone for good I am ready for the next steps.

The results of just purging my tops. Five Glad bags filled.

Results: Still Swimming

I can’t say I am anywhere near finished yet. In fact, in her book, Kondo suggests that to fully “tidy-up” you home may take six months to a year. After clothing comes books. And boy will that be a big process. But I am excited and motivated to keep going. I folded all my clothes in the particular way she suggests and put them neatly in the drawers. Now I just have to hang my clothes back up. But I already feel less cluttered, lighter and more organized. I love being able to see every piece I own and that I love each of the pieces I see.

Care to join me?!

Alright, who’s in? I know my daughter Morgan started this even before me and she loves her newly organized closet. I know my friend David in NYC started and was thrilled with getting some space opened up in his dressers. I’d love to hear if you have tried any of Marie Kondo’s suggestions and what tips you might have! Leave me a comment and let me know. I will be posting my progress here as I go along and any other fun tips I get!

It makes no difference

MichelleR

In light of the past few weeks and the looming confirmation of Brett Kavanaugh as our next Supreme Court Justice, I find myself compelled to respond to the many comments on social media and even from members of our legislative branch that have asked the question, “But if this woman was sexually assaulted why didn’t she come forward right after it happened?” As if that is what would make them believe the allegations.

I have a response to them: because it would have made not one damn bit of difference. Let me elucidate.

These woman could have reported it immediately after the assault occurred, they could have seen a doctor, had a rape kit performed, be able to positively identify their attacker and have ligature marks around their necks. And, yet still, be told it is a “he-said, she-said” case that will not be pursued in our courts. How am I so sure of this? I know because I watched it happen.

In 2006 my best friend, Laurie Dishman and I boarded a Mexican Rivera cruise on Royal Caribbean. On the second night of our week-long trip we went up to the dance club to enjoy the night and were approached by two men in ship security guard uniforms who asked to see our ID/room key cards to make sure we were “old enough” to be in the club. We, being trusting people at that time, complied simply because they were ship security. Later that night I dropped Laurie off in our room so she could go to bed while I went back up on deck with Franky (my now husband). The so-called Security Guard went to our room because he knew where it was, knocked on the door and, Laurie, thinking it was me (there were no peep-holes at that time) opened the door.  The security guard pushed his way into our room choked Laurie unconscious and raped her, impacting the tampon inside of her and left. I will not be able to put into words the enduring pain of seeing my best friend come to and the look realization on her face when see realized what happened. Just imagine this being your wife, your daughter, your best friend, yourself.

I immediately and without hesitation called the ship security (which was tricky seeing how it was a guard that just raped her) and what we now know is that the ship was immediately on the phone with corporate trying to figure out how to “handle” us. We were confined to our room after repeatedly asking to leave the crime scene, Laurie was taken to medical only after hours of asking and begging then an expired rape kit was used on her to collect material. The ships officers taking our statements SAT on the bed where she was raped when they came to our room and then we were asked to collect the clothing and bedding as evidence in a garbage bag. We were also accidentally told by a mournful looking security officer that the attacker was actually a janitor in a security guard uniform because they were short-staffed. I am sure he lost his job for trying to help us. After demanding to get off the ship, have the FBI called, speak to the captain, and given a new room, the officers (no women present) called Laurie and I in one at a time to “identify” the crew member. Laurie picked him out of a photographic line up in seconds. She knew who her attacker was.

We were picked up by the FBI from the Long Beach airport and spent hours giving our statements. Though clearly traumatized I still believed Laurie would see justice. That this man would be arrested and tried and Laurie would have the right to face her accuser in a court of law. I. Was. Wrong.

In order to keep this blog to a length shorter than the novel that she and I need to write, here is the result of our reporting “IT” right away. The answer to the question that so many people seem to ask. Not ONE thing happened. The case was thrown out of federal court because there was a lack of evidence.

US: A lack of evidence? We had a rape kit!

THEM: Oh, it appears the rape kit was expired Ms. Dishman and therefore inadmissible.

US: But we have the impacted tampon, the DNA from the sheets and clothing!

THEM: Oh, Ms. Dishman that evidence was compromised because it was all put together in one bag and you collected it yourself so there is no chain of evidence.

US: But the ligature marks on my neck?

THEM: Those photos aren’t very clear.

US: I know who did it, I identified him!

THEM: Well, he claims the sex was consensual so you see Ms. Dishman, it is simply a he-said, she-said case and we do not feel we can win and therefore we will NOT proceed with prosecution.

US: But what about MY rights? Does anyone care about ME?

THEM: Well, Ms. Dishman the law is the law and if you do not like it, feel free to try to change it.

And, by the way, that is just what she did and that is a whole other story. Her attacker never spent on day in jail or the brig. We found out through a private investigator that he continues to work on cruise ships and was transferred to a different line. Reporting it right away did absolutely nothing.

So, is it any wonder that when my beautiful, intelligent, confident daughter was sexually assaulted in college that she cried and kept it to herself? Is it any wonder that the story that has been handed down to her – the legacy we have left her is that no one will believe you no matter when you tell your story. That even if you call for help, and have evidence and try to be brave and speak out it will not yield justice.  So keep it down, girl. Keep it down. Keep yourself so far down that even other woman will step on your truth and be afraid of even their own stories. And we will still pass out the most important robe and gavel a person can hold because “she waited until now to speak up.”

I am so angry I cannot see.

Disclaimer

This blogger acknowledges that she knows little to nothing of Arizona, its people or its history. She is however, excited to learn as much as she can. This blog is just her “notes from the journey” on making an epic life changing move. If I get something wrong, meh – get used to it. Blerg.