#MeToo

It's been awhile since I've wanted to write about anything. Lately, it’s hard to escape how much watching the news upsets me, but also makes me feel like I should be doing more. At this point, with so much happening it’s hard to know where to start. So, I want to start with sharing myself.

I’ve been waiting for the right time to share this story on my blog, mainly because I haven’t felt ready. I’ve written and rewritten, worried about the reaction I would get from others, if any. It’s never going to be the right time, I’ve finally realized. Now seems about as convenient as ever.

I have been sexually harassed and assaulted more times than I can recall. From the old men at the grocery store, on the bus, on the street who “brush” against my backside, seemingly in a hurry, but grip too firm to not be intentional. The ex-boyfriend who tried to set up a 3-some without my knowledge, being blindsided with another guy’s hands down my pants and no one believing me after the fact because of the other person’s sexual orientation. The old boss, who I stupidly thought was going to teach me about the music business, who forced himself on me in my car.

...these are the ones I remember most, but there was one that changed me forever.

In Spring of 2011, I was raped at a fraternity on the University of Utah campus. It wasn’t the first time I was taken advantage of in this house, nor was it the last. I was a 19 year old sorority girl, in my second year at the University, and had just been accepted into the Actor’s Training Program through the College of Fine Arts.

Others in my sorority eventually started talking about their similar experiences at the same fraternity, to which they were silenced by upperclassmen. “You don’t want to ruin our house's relationship with theirs, do you?”

On my 20th birthday, he tried again. This time and unbeknownst to him, he shoved me into an occupied room. He shoved me to the ground and forced himself on top of me. Literally, by the grace of The Universe, someone sprang out of the top bunk, pulled him off me and started yelling at him to not do this here. I bolted for the door, ran to my friends and left the house - not speaking about what had happened.

Why would I share my stories after hearing other girls be silenced? Why would I share them, when I’m still trying to process what happened in my head? People haven’t believed me in the past, why would I share this new experience now? The system was more powerful than I alone, and it fucking failed me.

For over a year, I pretended none of it happened. Out of sight, out of mind - right? I lost myself. I blamed myself. I drank too much. I lost friends because of my erratic behavior. I switched majors because I didn’t want to feel emotions. I failed classes because I couldn’t concentrate. I dropped my sorority because I was outcasted. I hated everything.

I blamed myself. 

In 2012, I finally met someone who I felt I could confide in and I’m almost positive it’s what scared them away. I sunk. I was low. I had no one. I was alone. I didn’t talk about it, and I lost myself even more. I blamed myself.

In 2013, I had a mental breakdown. I finally imploded because I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t full of pain anymore. My biggest fear, was that people wouldn't believe me, or they would laugh, or worse - they would undermine my experiences.

After some time, I finally gathered the courage to contact the Rape Recovery Center. Immediately, I was overwhelmed by their generosity and support. I started going to therapy every week, and I finally started to take ownership of the situation. Most importantly, I learned to not blame myself for the awful things that have happened to me. I started to hold myself accountable for how my emotions were affecting me.

It's 2017, and this is the first year I've been able to speak openly about these experiences. They still affect how I carry myself today. I don’t open to new people, because I don’t have a lot of trust left to give. BUT - I'd like to point out that I have had an amazing boyfriend for the past (almost) 3 years, who has been so patient, caring and helpful in my process. He is truly a spectacular man and I am so thankful for him. ♡

These experiences don't define me, but they did shape me into the person I am today. I hope to be someone compassionate and understanding, an ear to listen to if someone feels like they are alone. I assure you, you are not. 

High School in Utah as a new, non-Mormon kid.

This original article inspired me to write about my experience going to high school in Ogden, Utah. I encourage you to read it: here, as a back story for the thought behind my writing. Another thing I will add, this is a generalization of the mass majority in my personal experience. There are always exceptions.

I talk about my move from Colleyville, Texas to Ogden, Utah a lot, because I moved when I was 15. I moved at a pivotal point in my development, when I had grown up with my best friends in Texas since pre-school and Kindergarten. I started high school with them, only to leave after my Freshman year. It was rough.

I remember the culture shock vividly. I remember coming home from school and being on the phone with my mom, who traveled for business every week, bawling my eyes out, begging her to let me go home. Her harsh words of, "you ARE home" struck me to the core and took a long time for me to accept.

Being the new kid sucks. I hated it because I felt like it gave people a reason to talk about me behind my back. I always felt like an outsider and I really never understood why. Besides the fact my new classmates, for the majority, had all known each other since childhood, there was another element that made them not as easily accepting of new friends to their already-established "crew." 

When I finally started to meet people and make friends, usually their first question was always, "which ward are you in?" To which my reply was always, "which fucking what?" It didn't dawn on me until much later, that I was seen as "different" because of my and my family's religious views. 

My parents knew it was important to instill good morals and faith in my life. I was baptized Methodist when I was a baby. We went to church every major Christian holiday and a few Sundays here and there throughout the year. I went to children's Bible study, while my family continued through the adult service; while my Grandma was in the church choir, every single Sunday. I'm happy I had that structure when I was younger. I think it's important for any kid to have access to that information, so they can make their own informed decision on what they believe later in life.

I will say, by my junior and senior year, I had a solid group of friends that were not Mormon, but we all felt the same shame most religious people not-so-discreetly threw at us. "You're such a good person, why are you not Mormon?" was a statement I heard frequently and could never avoid. Almost as if some of my friends didn't understand that good natured people could be anything BUT Mormon. I even had friends who invited me to their family's home for dinner, only to surprise me with missionaries who wanted to stuff their beliefs down my throat. If I had to give it a name, it was religious bullying - on top of regular, mean-spirited, high school bullying, it was a lot to take in.

Last summer, I stumbled into a Facebook group/invite that was for my 5-year high school reunion. Was I invited personally? No. But when I started to lurk through the pages to find it was a "family" event and spouses and children were welcome, I literally wanted to vomit. It's not just one type of religious person in Utah that wants to settle down by age 22, but it's the culture of this state as a whole. Definitely influenced by one religion.

For the most part, my close friends in high school were not extremely religious. I try to keep in touch with my best girlfriends, but we've all diverged on such different paths that it's hard to keep a conversation flowing these days. I'll always have a soft spot for them, but I can't relate to their lives anymore. Had you asked me at age 17 if I thought all my friends would have children and either be married or "settled" by age 24, I would have laughed in your face. Now, I shudder in disbelief that it actually came true. Don't get me wrong, I have mad respect for the people I went to high school with who have started families and are insanely happy - but that's never been something I've wanted in my early to mid twenties.

I'm stoked on life. I have no responsibilities, except going to work, paying my bills and taking care of myself. I can get up, pack my shit to leave tomorrow and spend a month in Europe, if I wanted to. I can switch careers if I'm not loving what I do. I have an amazing relationship with my boyfriend, where our #1 commitment is to support each other and Netflix & chill every weekend. I can live my life the way I want. But the hardest part is when I see these people now, and they genuinely feel bad for me. I see it in their eyes. The stigma here is that because I'm 24, childless and not engaged, I'm miserable - and when that is a constant theme around you, maybe you start to believe it yourself.

I can only hope that the people I speak about in this blog post will one day realize their lack of education and ignorance. A lot of people in Utah are good-natured in their hearts, but the unawareness and nonacceptance of other types of people and happiness is damaging. I've dealt with the repercussions first-hand and I've taken one major life lesson from it - BEING DIFFERENT IS BEAUTIFUL.

SHIRT: OMIGHTY

(P)HUCK (Y)O (S)TANDARDS,

allie ♡

"Imminent Rape Victim"

Friday, July 31st, 2015 - 4:08 pm

Dumbfounded. 

That's probably the only word that comes to my head in situations like this.



I, sometimes, really secretly hate venting over the internet - but weird shit happens to me a lot and I'm hoping that someone, somewhere will benefit from me sharing my experiences. I'll get to the point, I promise, but I'd really like to share my story with you.

Let me start with some basics to get you up to speed; I work in a professional environment in the entertainment industry. Yes, it's not your 'typical' professional environment, since the photo above showcases my usual wardrobe - which varies on a day-to-day basis. Also, it's the entertainment industry...

The multitude of extreme personalities I interact with on a daily basis are something else, I am positive that I could not accurately describe it.

Most days, I can hang but there are a handful of days that something happens and the atmosphere alters my mood. Don't get me wrong, I feel very lucky to earn my living in an industry I've dreamed of working for since I can remember. I'm also incredibly lucky to work for someone who encourages dreamers and creative types to pursue their passions, persevere through hardships and to always stand up for what you believe in. Most importantly, I get to go to work everyday and be myself.

I know very few people who get to say that.

Getting to express myself through fashion is one way that has helped me as I've struggled with depression for the past few years. It is something I hold very close to my heart because I believe expressing one's individuality is an important feat in life. I experiment with different options because I have fun doing it. Not to mention, I live in the conservative state of Utah. People act the same, people dress the same and people pretend they all like the same things. So yes, sometimes I overcompensate for feeling stuck in this cookie cutter place - but who the fuck is anyone to judge!

Life is about going through shit. Well, it's pretty much all we do while we're here - we just go through shit. Whether you're in a high point and going through good shit, or if you're at a low point and going through bad shit, we are all experiencing life.

All I really expect from other people I interact with on a daily basis is coexistence. Especially when it's at work. We don't choose who we interact with at our jobs, so to me, it seems very logical to be as considerate as possible when dealing with other people I don't necessarily know too well. That's just me.

Today at work, my world shifted because of someone else's actions. It may have seemed so minuscule in their world, but it absolutely shifted mine. 

I get a lot of looks and overhear old (& young) people say some nasty comments behind my back about my choice of style. It gets to me, sometimes, but I have to remind myself that those people are so sad and small-minded if they feel comfortable to bring down others about something they don't understand.

The conversation when anyone walks in my office is always personably professional. Yesterday was different. 


The conversation:

Man: *mumble* "What have you got on? What is that you're wearing today? That's an interesting outfit..." *mumble*

Me: "Yeah, well, you know how Fridays are. I woke up late, I threw something together and here I am!"

Man: "You look like an imminent rape victim."

I'm sure I'm not alone when I say I have experienced things that I wish I hadn't. What makes those things even harder, is when other people throw them in your face - even if it's unknowingly. 

Rape is not a joke. It is not taboo and it is not a subject to take lightly. 

Rape is something that needs to be addressed, it needs to be talked about and it needs to be discussed. Whether you're a man or a woman - if this is a something you're having a hard time with, please know you are not alone. 

I don't want to spend a lot of time discussing this subject at the moment. Maybe in the future, I'll be able to shed more light and spend more time discussing the facts. That's just not something I'm ready to do at the moment. However, if you are reading this, thank you - whether you can relate to my situation or you are educating yourself - thank you.

Be that as it may, it would be really fucking silly for any of us to dwell on those instances for the rest of our lives. We can't change them. But, you can learn. Taking knowledge from those situations and moving forward is all you can do. If you are able to take what you learn and explain it to others so that they, too, learn from your experiences, honestly - what else can we ask for in a person? 

I value our existence very much. Regardless if we agree or disagree about how life came to be and what it all means, I think it's safe to say that most of us can agree it's a beautiful and special thing we are experiencing. I believe that every person has the right to do what makes them happy, unless you're harming others or affecting other people, places and things in a negative way, then I think you're a shitty person.

Please be kind. Everyone is fighting their own battle. Why be the person that makes it worse for someone else? 




Spread love, always.

♡allie