The Push to Speak Up

Hey Jude, don’t make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better”

                 -The Beatles

     Where in the world have I been? I know, it’s been a while since I’ve typed up a blog for you all. I wanted to share something that was a dagger in my heart tonight with you all.

     It’s the night before Thanksgiving, and the Walmart here in our town is moving everything around to make room for Black Friday sales (chaos included.) I was sitting in my house when I realized I didn’t have any more soap, which is detrimental to a shower for me. My skin is so sensitive, and the air is so dry up here, that if I showered minus the soap I would surely dry up into a prune. Not a cute image. 

     So the quest began for some more soap. I threw on pants and drove to Wal-Mart at 9:00 at night. 

     If you’ve ever been shopping with me leading the pack, you’ll know I don’t just go in for one thing. I go in. I look at the chocolates just for the hell of it, then move on to the clothes. I’ll go to the specific item in the store I want more than anything. Then maybe I’ll mosey my way on to where I’m actually supposed to go. After checking out the on sale candy, I went to look at the off brand Sherpa pullovers that Wal-Mart was selling for $9. Not a bad deal. 

     In the midst of me feeling the softness, a couple walks towards the back of the store. The man follows the woman, who is obviously in distress. He is short and tubby, wearing a snapback and pants that fall way below his waist. He is huffing and puffing as he walks, yelling at her to stop. The woman with dark hair and dark eyes does as she’s told, but doesn’t turn around to meet his gaze. And then it unfolds something like this:

     Him: “You better slow the fuck down. I’m not fucking chasing you through all of Wal-Mart.” 

     Her (in a muffled voice): “Calm down, you’re humiliating me.”

     Him: “Humiliating you? No this is humiliating you.” (he raises his voice) “Slow the hell down or you can walk home!” 

     Her: (turns the cart and herself away from him and starts to walk towards the front of the store) 

     Him: “I’m not doing this. The way you treat me is unbelievable.” (To me and the family I was near in the Women’s Clothing section) “Can you believe this?”

     Her: (turning herself and the cart back towards him) Stop. You’re making a scene.

     Him: I’M making a scene? Do you see yourself right now? All I did was ask you to slow down and you couldn’t even do that for me. I could just leave you here, you know.

(They disappear to another part of the store leaving us all to ponder what was going to happen.) 

     I felt sick to my stomach watching this all play out, and after they left, I felt even sicker. The whole time, I just sat there, stricken with fear. I wasn’t even a victim and I was scared. Frozen. And although my body was in one place, my mind kept repeating Say something. Do something. Tell someone. Intervene. But I didn’t.

     I skipped the rest of my Steps of Shopping and went straight for what I needed. I wanted to go home. 

     As I headed to the Self Checkout, I see the two, the man waddling behind her. He’s shouting something at her and the 5 1/2 people in the store all stare. 

     Him: “Man, no more Christmas. No more Thankagiving. How lonely that will be for you, huh?” 

      Her: (stares straight ahead)

     Him: “If only these people could see how badly you treat me.” 

     He waddles right by me, so close I can smell his cologne and the weed on his breath. For a split second, I wonder if I was on an episode of What Would You Do and I think fast about what to do. My mind goes through millions of filing cabinets in my brain, thinking back to any and all articles I’ve ever read.

     And that’s just it.

     What do you do?

     What would you do?

     I’ve always said I would step out to someone abusing their child in the middle of the milk and cheese section. But what about a man being verbally abusive to a woman in between graham crackers and Sherpa pullovers? We can easily say “Oh 100% I would beat him up right there.”

     But would you really? says “Chances are that at some point in your daily life you have witnessed, heard or seen someone act in a way that was derogatory, degrading, abusive or violent towards women. Be it in the form of a joke, cat call, comment, put down, or physical or sexual assault, this is all violence against women. In these moments, people often feel that their only choices are to say nothing, look the other way or physically intervene, potentially exposing themselves to violence. There is much more in fact that can be done.

     The same site suggests that rather than being violent towards the abuser, you rather speak directly towards the victim. Stand near them to offer your presence. Then, give her control. In this case, I should have gone directly to the woman and asked “Is he bothering you? / Are you okay? / Is there anyway I can help?” In any case, however, if there is a threat or physical harm of any kind, get help from security or 911 immediately. 

     I share this information with you, not to seem like I’m writing an essay for an english class, but because most of us don’t know. I left Wal-Mart, sat in my car and cried for this woman. As a female myself, I felt I had failed her. If I had been in her shoes, I would have wanted someone to say something. But I didn’t know what to say. So of course, I trusted my old friend, Google with that help. 

     Right before I left Wal-Mart, I went back inside and bought the Sherpa pullover I probably didn’t need, to remind me of this woman and all women who endure domestic violence, as corny as that may sound. And while most of you out there will go on with your Thanksgivings tomorrow, stuffing your face and watching football, I would like to ask a favor. Please think about these women who don’t get happy holidays, or happy any-days. The women that are suffering, or have suffered. Take a minute out of your day tomorrow to think about them. Then go back to your turkey, and enjoy the rest of your day. 

     For more information about what to do in case you find yourself in a situation where you happen to be a bystander, visit 
Until next time,


My Senior Year and Joining the Bovee Bunch???

“Here comes the sun, yeah don’t you know, it’s gonna be a good day.”

     This is the most exciting blog I have written yet.

     Surprise, surprise! Hooray, hooray! I’ve been keeping a huge secret from you all and you find out today!

     You see why I don’t dabble much in poetry. I’m definitely not the next Dr. Seuss. 

      Due to extenuating circumstances, I did not get to graduate high school last year when I was supposed to. I was forced to move unexpectedly away from Woodland Park to Texas. (A story for another time. I know, I know. How much crazier can this girl’s life get?)  It was hard for me when graduation rolled around and all of my friends were decorating their caps and taking senior pictures, meanwhile I was stuck in a situation I never wanted to be in.

      Nevertheless, a miracle came into my life. And to be quite honest, I can’t even remember exactly how it all came about.

     Noelle and I had been keeping close contact since I left Woodland Park. I was in a position where I wasn’t going to be able to graduate like a normal teen was. I was very upset to say the least. She knew this, and somehow or another she brought up “You can come live with me. You can graduate here. My parents have raised 3 kids before.”

     Thus began the plan of moving me there.

     It was sort of a long process. Once the idea was up in the air, Noelle had to convince her parents that I was someone they’d love, and someone they could trust. We Skyped, and talked through things over video since it was nearly impossible to do it in person. 

      The moment they officially asked me to come live with them was will forever be noted as one of the best moments of my entire life. 

      I still had a lot to do. For one, the car I had was not going to make a 12 hour drive. I sold it, and bought a new one. I had to find a time to move up there a register before the 22nd of August, when school starts. We moved dates about a hundred times, I think. 

(My new car)

     But finally, my mother, sister, brother and I made the trek up to Colorado. Saying goodbye to my aunt back home and our animals was so hard. I kept telling myself that this is all for me, and most importantly, a good thing.

     It was a long drive. None of us slept the night before, whether it be nerves or sickness or just plain insomnia. We turned a 12 hour drive into a 17 hour drive, from stopping to eat or get food. We ended pulling over at the Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo to sleep for an hour and a half.

(My old room as I finished packing)  

 (My sister, Amber, and I showing signs of exhaustion)

(A funny picture of Andrew)

     We eventually made it to Colorado, and enjoyed the next day and a half together before they had to go home. I apologize for all of the pictures of them I’m about to give you in advance. 

 (Amber and Andrew in their natural habitat)

(Amber found a dog she loves)

(All of us together on our last day)

(Amber and Andrew once again)

(My mom on top of the mountain looking as gracious as ever.) 

    It is a little strange. While most of my peers are moving in to their college dorms and apartments, getting ready for new classes, I’m doing the same; but instead I’m going for high school. There parents just dropped them off and settled them in. Mine have done the same, but again, it’s for high school this time. 

     The day they left was really emotional. But we got our emotions out right away, and once they left I was part of the Bovees. 

     They’ve been absolutely incredible to me with every aspect of adjusting. Every morning I wake up on my bunk and I have to remind myself that I’m not spending the night; I live here. This is a permanent placement for now. (What an oxymoron.) I love it here. I love the red paint in the kitchen and the way the floors creak, despite how light you try to step on them. I love the way I can’t figure out the shower for the life of me. I love the “I Am Enough” messages posted around the house. Most of all, I love the never ending string of hugs here that always seem to come at just the right moment. There’s always enough love. You never go to bed here worrying if you are loved, because that’s just not something you have to worry about.

     You are loved. Plain and simple. 

      And don’t worry. Noelle and I get along just fine, even with our limited space. 

     Tomorrow I start my senior year. A year late. And although it may be different than what life what was “supposed” to have in store for me, I am always under the impression that life is wonky. Life is screwed up and crazy and doesn’t always go the way we plan for it to, or necessarily want it to. But that doesn’t mean that it is wrong. It doesn’t mean we can’t still become doctors or poets, or even just for the fun of it, physicists. To quote from my favorite book of all time, “We can’t choose where we come from, but we can choose where we go from there.” I choose happiness. I choose what’s screwed up and wonky and different. In the end, maybe this is what was really “supposed” to happen with my life. I’ll never know. I’m not the big man with the strings controlling it up there. 

     But life is full of expectations. It is full of crazy roads that lead nowhere that turn you around to start again. Here I am. I’m starting again.

     Screwed up. Messy. But okay. I’m okay with it. Senior year, here I come.

     I really hope you’re a good one.
Until next time,



I have joined the vlogging community with The Bovee Bunch (even though we should all remember my blog about how I should never do that again.) Please like and subscribe! You don’t want to miss a second of what happens this year! 

My Best 4 Years

 “I remember your bare feet, down the hallway. I remember your little laugh.” 

      I have to talk about something hard today, because my heart has been hurting.

     My little brother came into the world on September 24th of 2012, and made my heart so full of love. He was the child of my father and his wife, so my half-brother, but I never felt so close to someone. He had bright blue eyes, and the second I saw them I was locked in. He was so perfect and pure. He hadn’t made any mistakes yet, and didn’t have time behind him where the world messed him up. I vowed to protect him, no matter what, and never stop loving him. 

     Having my little brother made the time spent with my father easier. He made me laugh and smile, and I knew I would be okay because he lit up the room with his smile, or dancing. 

     He gave me the best hugs.

      He was ticklish on the bottom of his left foot, and he used to scream when I blew raspberries on his tummy. He couldn’t function right if he didn’t have juice when he woke up in the morning. The thing I loved most about him was when he squeezed my pinky finger with his tiny, tight fist.

I can still feel you hold my hand, little man.

     Things got tough in the few years I was with him, as most of you know. I made a very hard decision to leave my father’s house after the abuse got too bad. 

     With that, came the consequence of losing my precious, baby brother. I knew this. I thought I was prepared to leave without him. 

I remember your blue eyes, looking into mine, like we had our own secret club.

     When I knew what decision I had to make, I couldn’t stand to look at him. One of the nights before I left, I ended up having to babysit him. He was with me in the living room, dancing to Pharrell’s “Happy”, his favorite song at the time, when I just burst into hysterics. He stopped dancing and sat in my lap with his Cheerios. He didn’t understand why I was crying. I didn’t want him to understand.

     He started laughing, then realized I was crying and put his fingers on my chin. “Tay Tay, was wrong?” I didn’t answer, obviously, because that made me cry even more. He then put out his finger, circling it around my nose and making a bzzzzzBOOP noise, something we did to each other. “Tay Tay okay?”

      I just smiled at him, tears falling down my face like Niagara Falls at this point. “Tay Tay okay.” 

     He stood up, wobbling on his heels and bent down, kissing me with his eyes open. 

      “I love you, I love you, I love you.” I remember repeating to him. 

      “I wuv you too.” He said, stretching out to escape my hug. He walked away and started playing with his firetruck. 

     That was the last conversation I remember having with him. I wish, more than anything, I would have made it last longer. I would have made him hang on a little longer. I would have kissed him harder. But I didn’t.

     I don’t regret leaving my father’s house a bit. With any decision comes consequences. And this is a consequence I will forever have to deal with. 

     I can’t protect him anymore. I can’t see him anymore. My sister updates me all of the time on how he is, what he’s learning in preschool, what joke he made. Without her, I wouldn’t even know he was alive. He doesn’t know that I am who I am. He refers to me as “Amber’s sister.”

     That breaks my heart.

     I have a song for him, that I listen to when I miss him more than usual. I encourage you to read the lyrics, though they don’t fully pertain to my situation. I’ll post a link to the song as well.

I remember your bare feet down the hallway
I remember your little laugh
Race cars on the kitchen floor, plastic dinosaurs
I love you to the moon and back

I remember your blue eyes looking into mine
Like we had our own secret club
I remember you dancing before bed time
Then jumping on me, waking me up

I can still feel you hold my hand, little man
And even the moment I knew
You fought it hard like an army guy
Remember I leaned in and whispered to you

Come on baby with me, we’re gonna fly away from here
You were my best four years

I remember the drive home
When the blind hope turned to crying and screaming “Why?”
Flowers pile up in the worst way, no one knows what to say
About a beautiful boy who died

And it’s about to be Halloween
You could be anything you wanted if you were still here
I remember the last day when I kissed your face
And whispered in your ear

Come on baby with me, we’re gonna fly away from here
Out of this curtained room in this hospital grey, we’ll just disappear
Come on baby with me, we’re gonna fly away from here
You were my best four years

What if I’m standing in your closet trying to talk to you?
What if I kept the hand-me-downs you won’t grow into?
And what if I really thought some miracle would see us through?
What if the miracle was even getting one moment with you?

Come on baby with me, we’re gonna fly away from here
Come on baby with me, we’re gonna fly away from here
You were my best four years

I remember your bare feet down the hallway
I love you to the moon and back

     Tay Tay always loves you, Austin Ray. To the moon and back.
Until next time,


Take a Risk, Take a Chance, Make a Change

“I spread my wings and I learn how to fly.”

     Today’s blog is relatively cut and dry, because I just needed to get this all out there. I’ve seen a lot of posts on social media about how people are “scared to do this” or “scared to do that.” People. We can’t let fear run our lives. 

     While fear can keep you safe, it’s not exactly your best friend when you’re attempting to broaden your horizons. 

     It’s not easy to step into unknown territory, where you’re not exactly sure how far it is until your feet hit the ground. Some stay away from the idea of New, because it’s out of their comfort zone. 

     But what if no one ever tried anything New? What if our entire lives amounted to nothing, because we were too frightened to step outside of The Comfort Zone? There would be no Picasso, no Shakespeare, no Johnathan Larson. The world would never know of Beethoven, or even Oprah Winfrey.  

     These names are known to the world because they all had the courage to do something that scared them, and became successful because of it. 

     Not every single one of us are destined to be widely known and infamous for our choices in life. It’s just not realistic. We can still take away from those that are, and establish the notion into our own lives. 

     Maybe if you take a chance, you’ll earn a promotion at work. Or take the risk of wanting to go cliff diving. There are benefits to every experience you have. Sometimes, that benefit may just end up being the life lesson of “well I’m never doing that again..” In the end, you learn and grow, and that is the most valuable thing. 

     If you don’t take risks, you’ll forever be sitting in your bed with the sheets to your chin. You won’t have a life. 

     Swallow the fear and jump into the water head first. 

     Just imagine what life would be like if no one took chances. It would be a colorless, monotone world to live in. How sad that really is. 

     Get out there into the world, and pack fear into your suitcase. 

      Stop living your life just because you’re scared. You may be on the brink of something so incredibly beautiful.
Until next time, 

I Hope You’re Somewhere Praying

       (One year since the publishing of You Will Not Win)

     People always ask me “If you could change what’s happened to you, would you take it all back and redo?” And in all honesty, I have a lot of difficulty with an answer for that question.

Well, you almost had me fooled. Told me that I was nothing without you.

     It’s been hard not having my dad. I used to see fathers with their little girls, hand-in-hand in the street and go cry for 30 minutes in my car. Sometimes, I still do. It isn’t easy. I didn’t have him to teach me how to change a flat tire, and I will never have the father/daughter relationships you see on TV. I see baby pictures of us or hear stories from my birth and just want to cry. My friends have their fathers on Father’s Day, and for me it is the saddest day on earth. It is hard sometimes to not be wanted by someone who is supposed to want you.

      No child deserves to be abused in any form, whether it be physical or verbal. I wish I could have hugged my father, or felt like he loved me back. I wish I had that.

..and after everything you’ve done, I can thank you for how strong I have become 

     But, I don’t think I would be the same person I am right now had I not been through the abuse situation with my father. It has changed me in so many ways, I don’t even know how to count them. Through this experience of sharing my story, I have encountered many people, who I would not have had the opportunity to meet had this not have happened. 

(I was obviously not doing too well. 2015)

     While I had a lack of a father, I was raised on the idea that I don’t need a man to survive. My mother and my aunt were always around, and they are two of the strongest women I know in this world. Sometimes, when there are bugs or car trouble, we may buffer out for a moment, but we always figure it out.

     I am a stronger person because of everything that has happened in my life.

     So no, to answer that question, I don’t think I would take anything back for one second. 

     The healing process over the past year hasn’t been easy. There have been bumps and scrapes and stalls, even points where I thought I didn’t want to go on any longer. 

Cause you brought the flames and you put me through hell. I had to learn how to fight for myself. And we both know all the truth I could tell. I’ll just say this is I wish you farewell.

      In my original post of You Will Not Win, this poem was supposed to be included, but at the time I felt too vulnerable to post it. I’d like to share it with you now because I feel it is important.

    Blue collars and

     Strong cologne.

     I skip to the door as you arrive home. 

     And you smile.

     And we laugh.

     And you love me.

     Blue collars and

     Strong cologne

     You say I’m in trouble through the telephone.

     And you’re mad.

     And I cry.

     And you spank me.

     Blue collars and

     Strong cologne

     I stay up crying into my pillow

     And you sleep.

     And I sleep.

     And I still love you.

     Blue collars and

     Strong cologne

      It’s 5 years later and I’m home alone

     And you’re drunk

    And I’m scared

    And I’m lonely.

     Blue collars and

     Strong cologne 

     You’re bringing home girls that I don’t know

    And you kiss

    And I think

    And you don’t know.

     Blue collars and

     Strong cologne 

      You’re in a fit since I was on my cell phone

     And you’re red

     And I’m bleeding

     And I don’t know if you love me.

     Blue collars and

     Strong cologne

     I’m the one drunk and you don’t know.

     And you’re always mad

     And I’m always sad.

     And you don’t care.

     Blue collars and

     Strong cologne

      I’ve gone too many bruises to hold

     And your knuckles

     And my shoulder

    And my heart.


     Blue collars and

     Strong cologne

     I’m finally free of your cruel chokehold

     And I finally know

     That the truth was

      You never

       Loved me.

     Child abuse affects more than people tend to realize. It isn’t just physical scars left on you. Scabs heal and bruises fade away, but what we are left with is calluses on our heart and injuries to our brains that stay for a lifetime. 

     I am forever changed, forever healing. As much as I have tried to convince myself otherwise, I will always be healing. There will always be pieces of my puzzle that need to be reinforced, or parts that are missing. I could spend all of this time filled with anger towards my father for the way I am, but I have come to the conclusion that I can’t change it. When I’m scared of men, or I flinch with loud noises, I must be patient with myself.

 (These people are very important to me.❤)

    We can sit around all day and play What If with our lives. What if we chose this path instead? What if it worked out the other way? What if we hadn’t experienced this? 

     At the end of the day, I am me. And even if I wasn’t enough for him, I’m going to be enough for me, no matter what. Anyone else who comes along can either take it or leave it.

I hope you’re somewhere praying, praying.

I hope your soul is changing, changing.

     I refuse to be bitter, I will only be better. I won’t be defined by the demons of my past, despite how dark and twisty they may be. 

Sometimes I pray for you at night.

Some day maybe you’ll see the light.

Some say you’re gonna get what you give…

     I won’t spend my time on earth hating what used to be. 

    The past year since I published You Will Not Win has been an eye opener for sure. I have too many people to thank to put in this blog, so if you’re reading this and you need to be thanked, thank you ❤

     It’s been 2 years since I left my dad’s house, and it is only now that I am starting to feel truly free. 


    …but some things only God can forgive.

     Until next time,
This song means everything to me:

Praying by Kesha

Things Have Changed For Me, and That’s Okay

“Things are shaping up to be pretty odd.”
     I gotta tell you guys, life is strange. I’m in situations I would have never dreamed of being in with people I never thought I would be close with. You never expect life to happen and then it does. How exactly do you prepare for that?

     Answer is, you don’t. You can’t prepare for curveballs in life. And in complete honesty, that’s how it’s supposed to be. Life turns around and says “Well, what about this instead?” to you, and you just have to run with it. It’s not a bad thing at all, just totally unexpected.

     I’ve recently found that being terrified and running away from situations out of my comfort zone doesn’t benefit me in any way, whatsoever. What kind of life do you lead if you’re always running?

       I’m not the type of girl who takes risks without first delving into both pros and cons seriously. I sit in the depths of my blankets and write out every possible negative and positive outcome in my journal and assess what damage may come to me and the people around me. I’m used to routine and having the “same” all of the time. It’s safe that way, I’ve always thought. No one can get hurt that way. 

     While being prepared is an extreme asset to have in jobs and school, sometimes you don’t always need to use it in life. Take the road less traveled, or do something without 100% preparing for it. 

     I’m not prepared when people who promised to stick by my side forever suddenly disappear. It’s out of my norm. They were supposed to stay. It was routine for them to be there, and now they’re not. In that situation, it’s hard for me to come to acceptance of what is and embrace my change. 

     Change is difficult, no matter what the circumstances are. It’s scary, and exhilirating. Change is a ball of feeling alive and fearing the unknown wrapped up into one. But here’s the plus side.

     Change is okay.

      If you’re struggling with change, here is my advice to you. Embrace it as whole-heartedly as you can, even if you are scared. At the end of the day, try to have your love and excitement for life and everything it has to offer trump your fear for the unknown. Personally, I go into every opportunity with the mindset that everything will work out the way it is supposed to.

     Life is extremely short. Try your best not to waste what precious time we are given being afraid of change. What would happen if we all held ourselves back because we were scared?

  • We would stay in our beds because we would be afraid to walk in fear of breaking our leg on something.
  • We wouldn’t leave our houses in fear of catching an illness outside.
  • We wouldn’t get in a car in fear of being involved in a car accident.

     Things are constantly changing, and listen up: it is okay. My life, your life, your neighbor’s life. Embrace it. 

      Life is so good, and it’s going to be greater.
Until next time,

     Here is a tweet from June 20, 2016. I tweeted “I’ve lost all feelings. Numb af” And exactly one year later, I quoted the tweet and said “It’s been a year and things are looking up for me. It gets better.” I just wanted to share that with you in hopes that you’ll see that really, they do. They do get better.

DJ Strong

     “How do you smile, when you don’t want to? How do you laugh when it’s easy to cry?” 

     I would like to share with you, a story that has completely touched my heart and soul, as I’m sure it has others as well. 

     Diweni Jituboh is a 15 year old girl who is inspiring in the most incredible ways. She’s beautiful and witty, and so beyond her years in intelligence. 

     I first heard about Diweni as I drove through town one night and saw all of these blue signs everywhere outside of the high school. I didn’t pay any attention to it until one night I saw all of my coworkers posting on Snapchat pictures in these blue and pink T-shirts. 

     What was going on? What big event had I missed that A.) We were allowed to wear something other than sweaty, black, uniforms, and B.) I wasn’t informed of.

      When my brother and mother arrived home that night, they were grinning ear to ear in their matching shirts, and I bombarded them with questions.

     My brother said that as he was walking into work that night, a woman in an SUV handed him a shirt and a bracelet and said “Put this on.” He was a little thrown off he said, as I would be too if a stranger threw me a shirt in the parking lot of my work. When he walked into the restaurant, he noticed that all of our coworkers were wearing the same, matching shirts. 

     He said that a girl who had “some big surgery” came into Cotton Patch to eat tonight, and it had been an amazing evening for everyone. 

(Picture taken from her CaringBridge)

     I’m not going to lie. I was angry that I missed it, and that I didn’t get to be apart of it and wear the cool shirts. Fortunately for me, my brother said I could have his shirt. But I had a question ringing in the back of my head as to who this girl was.

     I spent the next hours looking up the hashtags, #PRAYFORDIWENI and #DJStrong on every social media platform I own, and what I found changed my perspective on so many things about life and beauty and appreciation for the little things.

There’s a girl who grew up playing soccer. She could put David Beckham to shame. She’d like to win, but she’d rather inspire. She plays for the love of the game.

     Diweni lives, playing soccer. This game is her lifeline, and I understand what something like that means to a person. And she wasn’t just any old soccer player, this girl was good. One night during a game, Diweni sustained an injury with another player in her knee. She shook it off and finished the game, despite the throbbing in her knee. She went home, she iced it. No big deal. It would go away, right? Well, it didn’t. It didn’t go away. Diweni was diagnosed with Osteosarcoma. That’s a lot to take in as a 14 year old girl. 

(Picture taken from her CaringBridge)

     Even with all of the bad news in her life so far, Diweni still maintains her happy persona and strives to smile. I give her mega props, because I know I would be an absolute wreck. I could never handle anything even remotely similar to this. 

 (Picture taken from her CaringBridge)

     Today, Diweni’s life will change, yet again, as she goes in to have a surgery that will remove her tumor from her knee and replace it. I write this blog in hopes that you will hear this young woman’s strong story, and keep her in your thoughts throughout your day today in the midst of what ever it is that you may be doing.

You’ve been through a lot, but there’s a fire you’ve got inside.

     You may not believe in religion or prayer, and that’s okay. Please just send her and her loved ones well wishes and positive vibes, as well as the doctors that will be surrounding her during the operation. 

     Dallas Children’s Hospital is one incredible place, I know in my heart that you are in good hands.

(Pictures taken from her CaringBridge)

      As for you, Diweni, if you happen to be reading this, I do hope you know that your story touched my heart and made me sit back and think about the things I tend to take for granted in my everyday life. Here I was, mad at the fact that I didn’t get a T-shirt, when I didn’t even stop to think what the cause was even about. I think you’re incredibly strong, and all together beautiful. This isn’t what your typical freshman year of high school is like. But hopefully your years will become easier and you will be allowed to enjoy the rest of your time as a teenager without having to worry about cancer. 

     I’d like to take the time to dedicate this song to you, and hope that you find time to hear it before your operation today. You truly are a force to be reckoned with.

I know you won’t ever stop, you’ll do more than walk, you’ll fly.

     Stay strong! Keep fighting!!
Until next time,
P.S. Here is the link to Diweni’s GoFundMe, if you are able to donate to her cause. If not, I encourage you to please share her story and her smile to your friends and family. She needs your thoughts. 

(Screenshot of Diweni’s Twitter account)