Animal Rights

No matter the animal species, all animals should be treated with love, respect, and kindness. 

I don’t care if it’s a snake, frog, or turtle, if I see you hurting an animal I will say how stupid you are. If you go out of your way to harm an innocent animal, that just shows how messed up you are. 

This week I have seen three different people harming animals. First this group of children (3-7) and their parents were gathered around a BABY snake, that couldn’t harm anyone, and we’re stomping on it, kicking it, ect. It infuriated me they the parents didn’t do anything at all. Then there was a group of women throwing sticks and rocks at a lizard, a lizard that was running away from them. Finally, today I was going through the lazy river helping frogs that were stuck in the water, when I came upon this group of ladies splashing, and screaming at a baby frog, so I went right up to the frog and helped it out of the water. The frog was so exhausted from trying to get away from those ladies that when I put it in my hand he just sat there, he didn’t move or freak out and jump away. All he did was sit in my hand. At that moment it broke my heart that people would harm an innocent animal. 

Good Times With My Abusers

When people ask me about how my daily life was when I was living with my biological mother and stepfather they are surprised when I don’t say that everyday was a living hell. I also had very good times in their home, from getting new dogs, you on vacation, and just spending time together. 

I had very good times in their home, along with the abuse. It’s an odd mixture I know, but everyday wasn’t horrible, everyday wasn’t hell, everyday I wasn’t abused. 

The abuse same in spirts, I would be beat, assaulted, screamed at, for a while, then it’d stop for a month or so, then the abuse from my stepfather would start again. 

On the other hand, my biological mother was constantly abusive, but only verbally and mentally. I would be told that my biological father hated me, was replacing me, and didn’t love me. She would tell me how horrible of a daughter I was, she would ask me why I wasn’t like my sisters. 

I’ve thought about this question for a while. “Why can’t you be like you sisters?”  After many years, I finally have an answer, I’m not like Ashley are Erica because I refuse to be walked over, I refuse to be taken advantage of, I refuse to be abused, I refuse to be weak. I’ve watched what my biological mothers a bust has done to my sisters, I’ve watched the negative effects it’s had on them, and I do not want that for me or my children in the future. I will not have them know the abusers I know. They will not like that life.