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[kylieryanette]

Big Changes and Little Faith

Hi! I hope you had a wonderful week, mine was full of learning and deep diving more into self unburying. I challenged myself to answer some questions that I am still working on. Who am I? Who do I want to be? Who was I and how far have I come and how far do I have to go? Plus a few more. My faith was challenged this week, which was hard because I've had to work hard in my faith journey. Faith has been a struggle for me, constantly asking God why, but it's getting easier. My senior year was another test of faith that I've had to overcome.

My senior year was an interesting one, to say the least. Dirk was gone, and pretty much absent from everything, besides the occasional weekend (and by occasional, I mean like 3) when we would go to Windsor Heights and spend some time with him. I was active in varsity football cheerleading, basketball (until a point), and track, as well as president of the Spanish club, member of the Octagon club, as well as numerous other volunteer activities, and activities such as the Capitol Project and Girl's State. My peers and I were always competing to see who had the highest grade, it wasn't about who got an A or B, but who got the highest A in the class, the competition fueled me, and in some ways, helped me as well as damaged me. My perfectionism grew and grew this year, mainly from my own internal demons and inability and/or unwillingness to share my feelings and experiences. Something I would do for years and years to come.

During this time, I was working, going to school, and partying, a lot. Every weekend there was a party, and I had the perfect work schedule to make that possible, 2-10, early enough to get off of work and attend the festivities, but late enough of a start so that I could get the much needed 12 hours of sleep that all teenagers seem to think they need. Things around our home had settled down, there anyway.

I mentioned I was busy and involved in a lot of sports and activities, and my whole family came to my events; mom, grandma, grandpa, aunt Trisha, and Kaitie. They came to every game, every meet, every awards banquet, etc. They were there for everything, and I felt their love and support every step of the way. We had a warm breakfast every morning, because mom would get up early and get ready before we woke up, so she would have time to spend with us before school. I would come home on my lunch hour whenever my college classes weren't meeting, and then early after school for the same reason. It was a mainly happy time, happiest I can remember. Dirk was pretty much in his own world, doing his own thing during this time, although he did contact us from time to time, but never making time to come to anything.

Mom and I made sure Dirk had every seasons schedule, he was invited to every event, but always had a reason why he couldn't come, even missing senior night for football cheerleading (thank goodness my boyfriend's dad was there to give me my rose) usually it was that he couldn't afford it, an excuse I very often accepted, as it was plausible. Until the day of my last track meet, which also happened to fall just a week after my 18th birthday.

The meet was on a Saturday in Keosauqua, IA, and Dirk and I had made plans that he would come down for my meet that day, watch me run, and then take me back to Des Moines with him to celebrate my birthday. Well, that Friday came and he called and told me that he would be slightly late to my meet as he had to drive from Des Moines to Omaha to deposit a check prior to taking me out for my birthday. I was perfectly fine with that, as I figured he would still make most of my meet the next day, as it didn't start until 10 and he claimed he was leaving really early that morning in order to make the meet. The meet came and went, he didn't show. I did not hear from him until 6pm that night, when he was almost to Bloomfield to pick me up. I went, hurt, but willing to put it past me in order to keep the peace and have a decent weekend with my dad. I found out the truth about that weekend about 3 weeks later, the week after my graduation.

I was snooping in my mother's room, and I found their joint checking account bank statement. It was in this document that I would find out the ugly and extremely hurtful truth. As I looked through the statement, I realized that the check he claimed he needed to deposit on Saturday, and the whole reason he needed to be late to my meet, was actually deposited on Friday, and he had gone to dinner Friday night in Omaha. Talk about hurt. As I looked further into the statement, I ran and grabbed my sports schedules from that year and started to match up dates, and in almost every case of "I can't afford it", he was actually in Omaha dropping $100's on dinners and shopping. I felt like someone punched me square in the chest, it was all a lie, he lied to me so he didn't have to come to my things and he could go see his girlfriend. Well, me being me, I found the girlfriend, found her work number and proceeded to call her and make her cry in front of her co-workers, not the best move, I know. I then called Dirk, who proceeded to try and blame my mother, and this is where I stopped speaking to him, for 3 years. He took my truck away and went out and lived his own life for a while, free of a wife and children. He would finally sign their divorce papers that spring, conveniently after I turned 18, that pesky child support you know. Dirk was acquitted of his charges that year as well, ending a long, anxiety-ridden year and a half, but the insurance company still would continue to fight any sort of settlement.

This would be my senior summer, the last summer before everyone flew off to college and started their own lives. We all spent as much time together as we possibly could, going to baseball games all over our part of the state, attending parties, sleep-overs, and memory memories. Mom started dating Eric Roberts this summer as well, and I hated him. I despised every time he came over, and made sure I was gone whenever he stayed over night. It took me 5 years to get over the hate I felt, to figure out that the man he portrayed on the outside was the man he really was on the inside. I had lost all faith in everyone around me, I didn't trust anyone, and I kept everything bottled up, something that would help lead to mental illness later in my life, which I am dealing with head on today.

I learned a lot during this time, and I wouldn't change my experiences for anything. Although hurtful, they taught me who I didn't want to be. The next few years were amazing, scary, eye-opening and I made SO MANY MISTAKES it's unbelievable! But, I also made some pretty amazing decisions as well. I cannot wait to share them with you! Grace covered me immensely and for that I am grateful.

[kylieryanette]

Life and Decisions

I want to start this blog by apologizing for the delay. We took my son on vacation for his birthday and it took a very big toll on me. I was in flare up for a little over a week and basically just slept the entire time as my blood pressure was hovering around 80/50 and my pulse was struggling to get above 50. These flare ups take a lot out of me, but thankfully I have a wonderful family, son, boyfriend, and best friend who all helped to take care of me and made sure I was ok. Thankfully I was able to pull out of it on my own and I didn't have to go to the ER for fluids this time, progress! So, I've talked a lot about Dirk's side of the family, so I'd like to introduce you to my mother's side.

My grandmother, Carlene, grew up in Bloomfield, IA and was an honors english teacher for years. She passed away on June 24th, 2019, after fighting a thoracic aneurysm. She married my grandpa, Phil, on Christmas day 1965, right before he was deployed to Vietnam. Grandpa was also raised in Bloomfield. They had 3 children, my mom, my aunt Trisha, and finally, their son, Chad (you will find out why I refuse to call him "uncle" later in my blog). They grew up very poor, but full of family love and friendship. Everyone got together for birthdays, holidays, and when we moved to Bloomfield, we would have family dinners on Sundays. It was during this time that I met a lot of the people who would influence my life and decisions later in life. One of these people would have more of an impact than I could even imagine.

I met Austin Owen when I was 3 months old, right after he was born. Our mother's were best friends in high school, and she dated his uncle, Michael, all throughout her high school years. We were also around his paternal family, the Finneran's, quite often during my first few years of life. We would reconnect during the summer between my 6th and 7th grade years, at 12 years old, and we fell in love that summer. A love that would not let go until April 2020, at age 32, 20 years. When we moved back to Bloomfield in December 2002, we decided that we would be together, and we were, for about a year. He broke up with my right before homecoming 2003, and right after my life started to really unravel.

In October 2003, we lost our home in Glenwood, IA to a complete loss fire. Dirk had still been staying there during the week as both of our labradors, Lacy and Drake, were still there and he was still working in Omaha. He had been in Bloomfield that weekend, and the fire happened late Sunday night, after he had gotten home and gotten to bed. Thankfully, the dogs were able to wake him up and alert him of the fire. This should have been the end, but of course, it wasn't. The insurance company refused to pay, and instead, had the fire marshall investigate, and they brought Dirk up on arson and insurance fraud charges, something that would prevent them from getting a mortgage in Bloomfield until the charges were cleared up. This would prove to be the start of the end of my parents marriage.

My mother spent hours upon hours researching, reading the court transcripts and expert reports, doing more work than the lawyers. While she was doing this, Dirk had a girlfriend in Glenwood, and another in Des Moines, which was not anything new as this was a pretty constant thing for him, and he never really tried to hide it, from any of us. At one point, Dirk left while Kaitie and I were at school, draining the bank account, and just disappearing for a while, just to come back a week or so later with gifts, the typical Dirk way of apologizing without actually saying "I'm sorry". Right after this incident came the final straw for my mother. She and Dirk were in a verbal altercation in the living room of our rental house on N. West street in Bloomfield. I was in my bedroom trying to drown out the noise, until I heard Dirk say "you're a fucking cunt". That was it, I was DONE! I came out of my room, pissed as hell, and proceeded to chuck the remote control at his head. I missed, my aim for throwing was never any good. He came barreling at me and I ran into my bedroom, slamming my door behind me. He ripped my door off, pinned me down on my bed, all 120lbs of me underneath his hulking 250+lbs body. He had my by the throat with one hand and his other he had drawn back into a fist, I braced myself for what was coming. Thankfully, my mother came in screaming at him that she was going to call the police. She actually had to insert herself between his fist and me. He released my throat after what seemed like forever, and walked out of the front door. I remember having to remind myself to breathe, as I had been holding my breath during the entire altercation. I cried, she cried, we cried together on my bed holding each other, another bullet thankfully missed because of the quick actions of my mother.

Shortly after this, I started dating a man named Brock. He was smart, funny, and athletic, which is what I wanted at that time. I was so excited to have him meet my family, as Dirk had been back for a couple of days. I brought Brock into the front door and was greeted by mom and Dirk sitting on the couch, Dirks bags and suitcases all packed and ready to go. The first and only thing Dirk said was "I'm leaving", I turned to Brock and said "This is my family", not sure whether to be sad, embarrassed, happy, I had so many emotions flowing through me, it was a lot for my 17 year old mind to process in that instant. Even though I had been miserable, I had always feared being a "statistic", being in a divorce situation, splitting holidays (which turned out to never be an issue), having step-parents/siblings. What would life look like now? How would we do being on our own? He wasn't going to stick around Bloomfield, he made that perfectly clear. He ended up moving to Des Moines, in with a woman who he was proud to have "turned" from being a lesbian to being with him, *insert eye roll here*. He was also seeing a woman named Dawn, from Glenwood during this time. This would be the last time we would all be together under the same roof as a "family".

After Dirk left for good, mom took a job at the local newspaper so that she could be around more and could continue coaching us and being there for everything. This took a huge financial toll on her, and I had gotten my CNA during my junior year in high school, so I got a job at the local care center, working 2-10 on weekends and making around $12/hr, which was amazing for a high school kid. I tried to pay for anything I wanted beyond the essentials. My aunts Jodi and Gina, were gracious enough to pay for my senior pictures, class ring, and graduation materials, as we could not afford it. I continued to maintain my 4.3 GPA, remained active in all of my activities, clubs, choir etc. I took a lot of college classes my junior and senior year, graduating high school as a first semester sophomore in college. I was a very busy kid, but it kept my mind busy so I didn't have to deal with the mental and emotional pain, the physical pain from my medical conditions was still plaguing me, but I'd always been told to "rub some dirt in it and walk it off", so that's the approach I took to every aspect of life. Much easier said than done. I made some horrible decisions during this time.

My last year of high school and first year of college were a big party that included drinking, a lot, smoking pot when I could, smoking cigarettes, sneaking out, and sleeping around trying to find love and connection in anyone I could. I hated myself for a long time because of these decisions, decisions that I have now forgiven myself for because I know where they came from. No, I AM NOT condoning these actions, I'm just giving myself some grace, something I struggled with for years and years. Grace is such a powerful thing, not only to receive, but to give as well. It is amazing how much you can achieve when you learn about grace and its impact in your life. Grace saved me, and it continues to save me every day.

[kylieryanette]

THE BEST OF TIMES AND THE WORST OF TIMES

Wow! This week was definitely challenging, but this too shall pass. Have you ever thought someone was just looking for a reason to hate you? Ugh, me too. That's what I've been dealing with this week, it's been a big trigger for me. Just one of those times everyone where you CAN'T BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU THINK! This week reminded me just how much words can disrupt your peace, if you allow it. Anyway, back to my story.

So, the next several years had many different obstacles to overcome, but not all of my childhood was bad. We spent 6ish or so weeks in Florida every summer with our grandmother, Mona, our cousins, our aunt Jodi and her husband, Joe, and our aunt Gina. These are some of my fonder childhood memories; going to the beach, having pranking wars with Jodi, spending day after day at Disney, going on all sorts of field trips, watching musicals and The Birdcage with Mona, it was like a family summer camp, which is why we lovingly deemed this time "Grammy Camp".

Every year we looked forward to Grammy camp, and we revered our Grammy, and I especially looked up to my aunt Jodi (she is also the person who told me the truth behind my childhood memories that I spoke about in previous blogs), she was my person beyond my mom. One of my favorite years was the year they came to Iowa. We went to the Ashfall Fossil Beds, stayed in teepees under the stars, and my cousin, Josh, and I honed in our awesome roller-skating skills on the ramp we had set up in the backyard. We also went to the Henry-Doorly zoo, Dirk even came on this adventure. This was one of the best summers I had! It wasn't until later in life that I was told why they came to Iowa that year, instead of us going to Florida. Mom knew who they were, way before I even had the slightest idea. After Grammy Camp was over, Mona, Jodi and the rest of them would basically disappear until the next holiday where we got a call and gifts. Not that we didn't feel loved by them, at the time, because we did, we just didn't understand conditional love from family, so we couldn't fathom the things that were to come.

During the summers, we also spent about a week with our mom's parents, my grandma and grandpa Horn in Bloomfield, IA. These times were always full of love, laughs, good food, the pool and friends. My grandparents had purchased a pink bike with a banana seat and a white basket on the front for me to get around town with my friends. I also spent time with my great-grandmother, Berniece, whom I absolutely adored, and we called her Gram. We would rent horror movies and I would sleep in her satin nightgowns, and although she had two other bedrooms, I always slept with her and her dogs, Jojo, an American Eskimo, and when she passed away, Gram was gifted a golden retriever, whom she named Tess. Family time was always my favorite time, which is why at the age of 12 again, I decided it was time to meet my paternal grandfather.

My Grammy and grandfather (Gene) had divorced long before I was born, and at age 16, he and Dirk got into an altercation and they went their separate ways, not talking for decades. Well, one day we received a call from Grammy, and she told me that grandfather had almost been killed by his farm hand, who had accidentally ran him over with a tractor. I decided this was my time to reach out, to know who my grandfather was and where I came from, so I asked for his phone number. I called him and had a wonderful talk with him, and we decided that I would fly to Little Rock, AR to meet him and his wife, Laura. A few weeks later, I landed in Arkansas and walked off the plane looking for two people I had never met. I was greeted with two smiling faces, one holding a sign that had my name beautifully written on it, her tiny frame topped with golden hair beautifully curled on the top of her head, and the other holding a handful of balloons, his large frame softened with a big smile and kind, light blue eyes.

When we arrived at their home, I was in complete awe, it was basically a ranch style resort, complete with Arabian horses, a gorgeous main home, a tennis court, inground pool etc. I couldn't believe it! I had a wonderful time with the people whom Dirk had demonized for my entire life, but I was finally connected to my grandfather, my family. After that visit, the rest of my family decided to go down together so that Dirk and grandfather could reconnect. They were inseparable from that time on, calling each other almost weekly, and we spent holidays in Arkansas, and made wonderful memories, for the most part. Every dream has a dark side, even in this world.

When I was 16, my grandparents invited me to join them and Jodi in Lexington, KY for one of the biggest Arabian horse events in the nation, the Pyramid Society's The Event. I was thrilled to be apart of this world, this world of opulence and beautiful horses, beautifully dressed women and horses that cost more than some homes. It also came with monsters and predators. Our passes gave us access to the patron's lounge, which Jodi and I decided to go to two evenings during that first trip. The first time, Jodi was obliterated after just one scotch and water, more than likely drugged by the bartender, which should have been a red flag, but we decided to go back again the next night, with my grandparent’s world renowned horse trainer, who was in his 40s. They proceeded to allow me to drink, as there was no one else in the lounge that evening. I clearly remember the drink that the horse trainer kept pouring down my throat, it was called a Duck Fart (weird I know, but I remember it being a very good and creamy drink). I drank so much that I don't remember that night, but I do remember waking up in the horse trainers hotel room, which was in the La Quinta, NOT the Residence Inn where we were staying. I was terrified. He was awake and asked if I was ready to go back to my hotel, I just shook my head yes and grabbed my things. I told Jodi and her response to me was "Do not tell your grandfather, he will kill him", once again pushed aside after being assaulted, once again being told that this man was more important than my body, but this would not be the last time. It happened the next year with a different man, who was invited to our room to give us both massages, yet another time what someone else wanted superseded my well being. This would tear my mind apart for years after.

These things all shaped my perception of the world, how I responded, and how I felt about myself, as well as society as a whole. I looked everywhere for acceptance, love, any shred of normality that I could find, and I made some horrible decisions during that search, which I will get into, I promise. I can't be authentic without sharing my downfalls as well.

[kylieryanette]

SELF LOVE BURIED

So, you've gotten through the beginning years! Buckle up, it gets worse from here. I will be getting into the more severe abuse from here on out, so this is a trigger warning for anyone who may have difficulties reading from here. The next few blogs will discuss years 6ish through my adolescent years and high school, how my self-love got buried under years of being told I was worthless, sexual assault, mental and emotional abuse, among other things.

After we left Wisconsin, my mother once again left Dirk, and we moved to Bloomfield, IA where we lived with my great-grandmother again, and Dirk moved to Omaha, NE, 3.5 hours away. During this time, Dirk started dating a lady named Sandy. My sister and myself went to visit Dirk in Omaha, and we met Sandy and went to Fuddruckers. At this time, I was approximately 8-9 and I was not dealing with Dirk dating another woman, so I called my mother bawling, wanting to go home. Little did I know that Sandy would be a permanent force in my parents marriage (she isn't the villain I made her out to be in my mind).

When my parents got back together, we moved to Glenwood, IA, a bedroom community of Omaha, and my parents were both working in LTL (less than truckload) sales, so they were gone all day, and once again, Dirk was gone on "business trips" all of the time. He was working for Midland Transportation at this time, and brought a couple of shady characters to our home, disguising them as "friends". It wasn't until later that I learned he was involved in a theft scheme with these gentlemen, but alas, he was never caught, only his partners.

There are many shady instances that I remember happening at this time, to include Dirk threatening a backhoe operator, who conveniently passed away less than one week later from "heart issues". I was 12 years old when this occurred, and I had the forethought at that age to walk away from the situation. When Dirk asked me later why I had walked away, I simply stated "because I didn't want to testify against you". Please tell me what 12 year old thinks that way, or has had to make that decision, well this 12 year old, as I knew he had a body count at this point, he used to brag about how no one would ever find the bodies. Something he has recently said about my mother and myself, which has caused us to get security cameras installed around our home. During this time, I also started experiencing disturbing and severe health issues, which were dismissed by Dirk and doctors for over 25 years, but I remained active and high achieving, as to not deal with the abuse at home if I did not perform at peak level at all times.

I remember one time sitting at the coffee table eating cereal from a pottery bowl. Dirk was going through my backpack (one of the rare times he actually gave a shit about what I was doing). I had gotten a B on a math test (I struggle with math), not the class itself, just a test. He proceeded to walk over to me, grab my bowl, and throw it against the wall, sending pottery fragments and cereal flying all over the living room. It was at this moment that I realized the only way I was going to make him happy was to be perfect, absolutely perfect, no mistakes, ever. You can imagine what that did to my 12 year old psyche. He would call me "half-assed Kylie" if things weren't done to his standard, which was unobtainable most of the time.

During this time, my parents fought incessantly. I would hear them at all hours of the night, Dirk telling my mother that he hated her, didn't love her and that he wouldn't have to have affairs if she were a better wife, even though she literally drove herself to the brink of insanity trying to make him happy. She was focused on us, her career and her weight, as Dirk covetted good looks and a slim, beautiful figure, anything short of that was embarrassing for him. This caused a lot of issues with not only my mother, but me and my baby sister as well. Both Kaitie and I had an unhealthy relationship with food; her, not wanting to eat and making sure she stayed slim, me, yo-yo dieting and making myself sick to keep that ideal. One of those instances where parents don't directly instill these ideals in their children, but through watching and listening, we learned. We also learned about alcoholism, extensively, during this time. large

I watched Dirk drink himself into oblivion every single night that he was home. He couldn't have a meal, including breakfast, without a drink. Johnny Walker Red and water was his drink of choice, although I knew how to make a mean screwdriver by the age of 10. If it wasn't hard liquor, it was Bud Light. If Dirk wasn't drinking, I was wondering what was wrong. He once got to drunk that he decided it would be a great idea to take my sister and I on a ride in our Porsche on the icy country roads, after having an argument with my mother, resulting in us losing control and spinning on the ice, something that gravely scared my mother as well as us. Scaring people was something he absolutely loved doing, and would talk about his intimidation tactics and whom he had used them on frequently, violence and intimidation were standard ways of dealing with issues. During this time I dealt with issues of self worth at school as well, trying to fit in and not really knowing where to turn.

My friends at this time consisted of a mixture of personalities. Most of the kids had their groups that they had since elementary school, but I had gone to 5 different elementaries, so I didn't have that core group of friends. I threw myself into basketball and school, trying to be the best at everything I did, not the best I could be, but the absolute best, because anything short of that, in my mind, was unacceptable. The basketball court was my happy place, and I spent every free minute I had at one of the basketball courts in town, playing pick-up games or one-on-one with my mother, which was always a tough game as she is an extremely talented ball player. I dealt with a lot of rumors and nasty comments as my mother was my coach and comments such as "you only start because your mom is the coach" were thrown at me almost daily. Comments like these stuck with me, making me work that much harder. I was constantly trying to outdo myself and my peers, just to feel some sense of worthiness.

Social functions were a huge source of anxiety for me, as I was constantly second guessing the words that came out of my mouth. Something I still deal with daily, at the grocery store, church, wherever really. One school function will never leave my memory, unfortunately. I was at the Corn Festival dance in Glenwood with a bunch of my friends, and their parents who were chaperoning. Dirk had gone out with some of his friends and decided to come crash the kids dance. He came into the church, found me in the middle of the dance floor, and just starting screaming nonsense at me, in front of everyone, drunk, I was mortified. My friends mom jumped into action, shooing me away into the girls bathroom until they had successfully gotten him out of the building, to say I was embarrassed is an understatement. This wasn't the worst thing to happen in middle school though, that would come where I least expected it, and with zero support.

When we lived in Glenwood, a family with 3 young kids moved in across the street. The father befriended Dirk, and we all became family friends. I would babysit for them a lot when they would go out together, this was a very normal thing until one night. The mom was out of town, the oldest daughter at her father's house, and the dad out with his friends at the bars. I went to bed in the oldest daughters bed, waiting to fall asleep. Around 1 am, the dad came stumbling in, drunk as a skunk. He then proceeded to come into the room I was sleeping in, and crawl into bed. I told him that he was in the wrong room, he proceeded to say "I know", and continued to lay there. I was paralyzed, what was I supposed to do? I had been raised to be a people pleaser, how was I going to gracefully get out of this situation? He then proceeded to try to touch me, I finally came to my senses and jumped up and ran home. I cried all night long, waiting for Dirk to wake up so I could tell him. The time came, he woke up and I told him. He told me "He was just drunk and probably thought you were his wife." I was dumbfounded, his wife?! are you serious?! This bedroom was on the other side of the house! I felt worthless, dirty, and that my body didn't matter. This is not a lesson a little impressionable girl should learn. I learned more about sex, unhealthy sex, in the next few years than any young person should.

Ok, I promise I will get to the lighter, easier things, but the only way to get to that point, is to get through the hard stuff. Stick with me! You don't get to appreciate the beautiful light without trudging through the darkness :)

[kylieryanette]

THE BEGINNING YEARS

The concept of self love was a very foreign concept for me as I have struggled with perfectionism since childhood. I never felt quite good enough, I never lived up to my own, admittedly over reaching, goals, not knowing I was constantly setting myself up for failure, thus leading to more self hatred in an ongoing carousel of feelings and self let downs. It was only until years, well honestly decades, later that I would realize exactly why I did these things to myself, and where it stemmed from...trauma and mental illness.

My life started on May 1st, 1987 in Putnam, CT. My mom is Tammy Roberts and my biological father is Dirk Graves. In true Taurus style, I was bull headed coming into the world, being over a week late and then making my mother have an emergency c-section because I got stuck and they lost my heart beat. When my mother woke up from anesthesia, my father told her "Honey, we had a lizard", as my face and head were misshapen due to my traumatic birth. I made a dramatic entrance into this life and it would be indicative for how my life would go.

My mom was basically alone, raising a new baby as a young mother. Dirk worked long hours and we lived in Connecticut, miles and miles away from any family, which was a new concept for my mom, as she was raised in an extremely close family. Dirk, not so much, he was perfectly fine being away from family, and isolating my mother from hers. Mom tells me he was a good dad back then, always dotting on me and wanting to hold me, when he was home. Mom was able to find some solace away from home with substitute teaching and coaching girls basketball, which I think helped her keep her sanity. Then we moved to Florida in 1990, and all hell broke loose.

Mom got pregnant with my beautiful, younger sister, Kaitlyn. Dirk was gone even more now, but at least Mom had his sisters, Gina and Jodi, close. When she was about 6 months pregnant, Dirk had a business trip he had to go on. Mom had her suspicions, and turns out she was right. He was not on a business trip, he was actually across town at a hotel with one of the first of numerous affairs he would have in their 20 year relationship. At that point, my aunts helped my mother pack up our house and moved my mother and I back to Iowa, to my great-grandmother's home, that weekend. Dirk would come home that Sunday to an empty house, his family gone, his own karma.

My sister would be born in Bloomfield, Iowa on January 14th, 1991, Dirk was not present for her birth, nor her first 4 months of life. We lived in Bloomfield for a short while longer, until we moved to Lake Mills, WI when my parents got back together. The time I remember there is pieced with joy and fear. I remember my birthday party with Barney, the purple dinosaur, and I remember playing on the boat with Dirk, trying to feel close to him, I assume. I remember riding my bike around the neighborhood, and down to the beach, playing on the beach with my family and listening to live bands out on the boat dock. I remember my babysitters, and playing at their house. I also remember a woman showing up on our door step, bloody and beaten, screaming for my father to help her. It wasn't until later that I learned she was yet another affair (her name was oddly Tammy as well) he had and her spouse found out, evidently it did not end up well for her. I never found out what happened past that, but that memory is seared into my brain.

Another memory I have of my time in Wisconsin is that my sister and I had been playing outside and my father came out screaming for us to come inside as there were "biting flies" outside. We came in and he locked all of the doors and windows and pulled all of the shades. I later found out that this was because he had been running cocaine for a notorious cartel out of south Florida and his friend, Kevin, who was also involved, had made a crucial mistake, which put our lives in danger. He passed this off to my mother as he had missed work that day and his boss was out looking for him, the truth was much scarier. To this day I still look over my shoulder.

These are the memories I have of my early years. I have many more stories like these that I will discuss in further detail as this blog progresses. My mother's strength is what got us all through this early time in my life, as at this time, we had not been raised in the church, although I knew who Jesus Christ and God were, I did not really KNOW them, it wasn't until much, much later did that part of my life develop and I found my faith.

[kylieryanette]

Hello, and thank you for visiting my blog! In this community, we will be discussing unburing self love and taking responsibility for healing after trauma, of any kind. I'm going to explore many different types of trauma that I have experienced, from surviving different types of abuse to losing my perceived identity due to numerous rare medical conditions, as well as that oh so taboo subject, mental health *gasp*. I will be discussing the role of faith in this healing as well, but will never force my beliefs on anyone. Now that you know what my goal is with this blog, let me introduce myself and tell you a little bit about me. My name is Kylie and I am 34 years old. I am a mama of 2 beautiful kiddos, one girl child, I'll refer to her as E, 13 and one boy child, referred to as D, 10, and 4 rescue fur babies, Kora & Kane (doggos), Myles & Mya (cats). I live in a small town in Iowa, and grew up all over, but more about that later. I also have a degree in psychology and I'm a nurse as well, which comes in very handy, as you will see in later posts. When discussing unburying self love, you will find how much power and strength you actually have, the differences in sympathetic and empathetic responses, shame vs guilt, which are amazing things to unbury. When I say power, I do not mean as in money or status, but the power to change, power to be empathetic, the power to be a better you! I don't like the term "self discovery", as I feel like I never "lost" myself, I just buried myself under emotions, social expectations, and perfectionism, but I never really lost who I was. I want to make sure everyone knows that this blog is in NO WAY meant for retaliation against those who abused or harmed me in any way, it is purely to heal and help others heal. I will not apologize for the names in this blog, this is MY story and authenticity is much needed.