My Body Expression Is Under My Discretion

My Body Expression Is Under My Discretion

My body is my home and I choose how I decorate it.


People shouldn't judge others for how they choose to freely express themselves. Tattoos, piercings, and dyed hair are forms of bodily expression that allow us to show the world who we are. I want my body to be like a work of art with loud hair and intricate tattoos. I want people to get an understanding of who I am through how I present myself, just like some people wear makeup, paint their nails, or wear a certain style of clothing. Mine just happen to be permanent or semi-permanent.

Every tattoo I have has a meaning and is placed on my body for a reason. For me having tattoos is like claiming ownership of myself and letting everyone know that I know who I am. Not everyone has a reason for a tattoo, some people just think they are beautiful and that is okay. Whatever reason someone has shouldn't have to be justified because they do not have to explain what they do to their body. Tattoos make me feel more confident and they are reminders of who I was, who I am, and what I have been through. The line work of others splayed out over my body makes me a walking art gallery. Tattoos are their own story tellers so people already get a sense of who I am just by seeing my ink. I have had people say to me that I am ruining my body and I will regret my tattoos when I am older, but I know I won't. They are a part of me and I accept who I am. You only get one life and I would rather regret doing something than regret not doing something. The constant wondering of what might of been nagging in the back of my head is worse. Some people are denied jobs because of tattoos, but as long as they aren't inappropriate they shouldn't be turned away. Their tattoos don't effect their performance.

My dyed hair makes me stand out in the crowd and it feels more me than my boring, dull brown. There is nothing wrong with brown hair, but I love seeing different colors of the rainbow in my peripheral vision. The colors capture my creative spirit and you know the saying 'blondes have more fun', well that applies to my crazy colored hair. Some people wear headbands, scrunchies, or barrettes, and I get out the dye. Having colored hair shouldn't make me an undesirable applicant for a job. My green eyes don't change my qualifications and neither should my hair.

The meaning of 'being professional' is changing and should be reevaluated. Why should I care if the person doing my taxes has gages and a lip piercing? Or if the doctor performing my shoulder surgery has tattoos from his chest to neck? Or if the person teaching my children has green hair? As long as they are qualified and their bodily expression doesn't effect their job performance, it shouldn't be a problem. I am not conventional in any sense and my bodily expression is unique. I don't fit into the mold and I shouldn't be judged for that. My body expression is under my discretion and I should be able to decide without consequence how I would like to present myself.

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Where is my baby?

I never thought my sweet boy would be ripped out of my arms, at 7 months old.


I just kept looking and looking for something on here that would seem like how I feel. Turns out only my own words can describe it. I'll first have to tell what happened to be granted this hell. Even though most the time, I can't even describe how I feel to myself. I'll give it a shot.

July 14th 2017, I gave birth my beautiful baby boy- the best day of my life

February 27th 2018, my baby boy was taken from me-the worst day of my life

But he's not dead..

He is alive, but doesn't know me anymore.

You're probably thinking something like.. She: didn't didn't take care of him, abused him, was a drug addict, just didn't need give a shit about him, or whatever sounds best in your head. But in reality, I gave all the shits in the world actually. He was (still is) my WORLD. True purpose was given to me from him, because he is my purpose. But why isn't he here?

I used to wanna die, a lot.. No one could really figure out why, because I can't. But my boy gave me the reason to be alive. To fight, for him. I want to LIVE for my baby. It was just for him, but I finally wanna live for myself too. The one person I wanna spend this time with, is gone... But not dead.

Where is my baby?

The court ordered my ex temporary full custody. (I can have 2, 4 hour visits a week that have to have a professional supervisor to be with my son.) I was kicked out of the house and had my 7th month baby taken from me.. I was just in complete shock... With no money for food, gas or well, anything. The hotel got pricy so quick (Thank you Tera) and I was left with no where to go. The man I planned on spending forever with (my husband) didn't care I had no money for my medication, gas to go to court and appointments, food, a roof over my head, just not anything. (The food bank saved me once actually. Blessed. And my parents helped me a as much as that could. Double blessed.) So I house hopped with my cats, until time ran out.

I had saw my son around 10 hours, sitting in the corner of the YMCA, over a three month span. My son's father let me do that thankfully. Once, he even asked if he needed to take my keys.. *thought in my head* “You know I'm not that crazy or stupid. Why the fuck did you even ask that?" Anyways, I saw my son few times. Those were a few of the best days of my life. All of the visits after he was taken were actually. And one day, his father told me "You can only see him with a professional supervisor like the papers say." (They're expensive) So I waited around a month, applying for all these jobs and finding somewhere to live. With no money, it was hard to find somewhere to live. And then.. I crashed my car and I had no where else to stay. So I packed my suitcase and my kitties, and came “home" to Michigan (Military moved us to WA) to get better. I had not seen Mason in a month, and he didn't plan on changing that. I was waiting to see my boy, but he just wasn't working with me. Only against. I had no support in Washington after the separation. And I needed a stable roof over my head and some family go help. I have that roof now, for Mason too. We all want him to come visit/stay. We have a room for him at my parents. Where he will be loved by me, his grandparents and uncle.

They’re the only things that’s weren’t taken away from me

And I just wasn't feeling the best. What does "get better or not feeling good" mean to me?


My mental health was declining.

In those papers my son's father claimed my mental health was too much or a risk factor... My mind was blown. I knew I had problems but this...? Like what.. He was ripped away why? was my thought.

I didn't always want to keep my pain in, and I thought all he would do was HELP. Yeah, I was wrong. I didn't know you weren't aloud to tell your husband your pains when he asks details. Details like “I just don't wanna live anymore" "Dying sounds nice. I'm just in pain. Something's wrong." "I don't know if my meds are working or what." He asked for the truth, but sometimes the truth is too much for some people.

Or why didn't he tell me when I was acting irrational so sit down and just hug me? Why didn't he support me? All I needed was love and support. But he just wasn't capable of loving like I needed to be, and that drove me down. We would always fight (me saying) "Why don't you love me anymore?" "Why won't you touch or talk to me?" "Why won't you even hold my hand or kiss me first or something?" “What can I do to make you love me again? "Why don't you love me anymore?" ..... Once I hit my second trimester of pregnancy, he just didn't look at me or my body the same anymore. It faded from there, more as the days went on. My husband wasn't attracted to me anymore. But wouldn't that even bother someone that doesn't have mental health issues? YES.

He made me worse. He went from my shining sun, to the rain cloud that never stopped raining above me.

What he became unattracted to

I used to think it wasn't possible to fall out of our love, when our love used to be so pure. (Example: The first year we were together we had zero fights, or even a disagreement. Love only.) We used to have fun, communicate, talk, laugh, be silly with, have deep talks, just everything.

When I say everything, it truly felt like it. We used to do stuff to make the other person happy. And I can tell you the last time he purposely made me.

Him and I went to 2 proms together. He wasn't a dancer, but did it for me. Because it made me smile. ——The last happy time he made for me was: I was getting into the shower. The Bluetooth speaker was on, and it started playing the song by Lee Brice "I Don't Dance". I had one leg in and jumped out. Yelling, “Babe come here!!!!" I put a little bit of clothes on and said “Let's dance!" He didn't “want to", but he did. We slow danced to the song and he just held me. And that's the last time he made me feel safe, and the the last time he ever will. I will never trust a word he ever says or does again because of what he later on did to me.

I loved dancing with him

It went from good->> bad->> ugly

He's not touching me or talking to me, and my mental health was just getting worse by this. I already had problems, but this shit? The man who I'd do ANYTHING for doesn't even look at you anymore, even if you beg and beg. Let's just say it made me emotional.

So I used to say all the time "Fine I'll just move back to Michigan if you don't change and act like you love me again."... Until one day he said "ok". That's when my life flipped upside down. I got the answer I'd been waiting to hear. But deep down, it's not what was expected... I thought he'd always fight for me.

One month later, I lost Mason. Mason is my son. He is the most beautiful and pure person on this planet. February 27th, 2018 was The day my life became black and white...

Over time... My life's is still black and white. But a black and white blur. Blurrier and blurrier everyday.

Confusion runs through my head a lot,

The day he was taken from me

Mental health “issues", no roof over my head, or no income the time, and some other things that I would've never known- would haunt me. (Oh and he mentioned (LIED) that I had a "drinking problem". I didn't know 4-6 glasses of wine a week (not a day!!) made you an alcoholic....)

The TRUE things- Have been haunting me. It's haunting me in crazy ways too.. Some nights I'll wake up screaming thinking they're taking him away again. Or my brain won't stop repeating things said in court. I've went days without sleeping because the nightmares get so bad about him. Even in the broad daylight, I'll give myself “nightmares". Sometimes I cannot stop reliving the day. The worst day of my life. Having him taken away, time and time over again in my head.

Court was just awful.

It was basically a "Matison's crazy show." By his attorney. It just all blew my mind. Just because you have a mental health diagnosis, take medication and go to therapy DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE CRAZY AND A BAD PARENT! Some people are just so close minded. Someone with a mental health issue CAN properly parent. My child would be so loved, and safe with me too. But when they see the “mental health" box checked, and they look at you a little different.

To them, it doesn't matter how much progress you've made from your past mistakes. I LEARNED from them.

He even mentioned my previous suicide attempt July 2016. (Before we were married, were dating). As a weapon, and my heart wanted to explode. With plain anger, sadness and so many emotions I don't know how to describe. (I kept my cool don't worry) I was being attacked, and of course couldn't argue with a judge. But wait, my husband, who I trusted with my scary secrets, was exposing them to the world.

Besides the obvious, it was heart breaking going to them alone.. Scary actually.

I thought I was doing fine. I went to therapy and took my meds. Was trying to get better. Shoot, I thought I was doing fine. Until the one night.. The night we split up. That story could go on forever..

But. back to my son. That's how I lost him. And now I feel as if he's dead. I have no contact with him. None. His dad ignores my phone calls and texts. I went to Washington to visit, just wanted to see my son as much as possible. Of course, that wasn't easy. I wasn't seeing him so I just kept pushing my departure for later on. I ended up being there for a month and he let me see my son for 8 hours. And it was so hard to get that out of him. It had been around 9 months since he has seen me. He didn't recognize me.. Of course. But those 8 hours were some of the best 8 hours I have and ever will experience. (Well, besides the day he was born.) Just playing with toys him and taking him to the park, was magical, amazing and the time of my life m. I felt like a mom again, kinda! Supervisor let us have our space and it was just like what we should've been doing this whole time.

I didn't wanna leave.... But I couldn't overstay my welcome where I was. I had to leave my boy again.

Oh how he has grown..One year older.

I lost him at 7 months. He'll be 2 next month.

We hired a Guardian at Litem to investigate the case for our son. She told me over 9 months ago, I would have a court date to determine custody in 2-3 months. 2-3 is not anywhere compared to 9. I'm waiting and waiting and waiting. Wondering “where is my baby?"

My attorney quit once I came back to Michigan. I don't have the money for another one..

I'm just stuck.

So here I am at a distance trying to grasp something from my son. A new picture or video even.. I spend a few hours a day just looking at pictures of my sweet boy. Sometimes I smile, sometimes I cry. But if I don't look at those.. I'll forget what he looks like. Well, looked. I try and replay every memory I can. I will cuddle and hold one of his old stuffed animals, rubbing it and looking of pictures of him. How pathetic..?

I just want my son. I want him to snuggle. At this point, he won't remember me well enough to wanna snuggle, for a long time. (I understand I need to ease back into it when I finally do get him. Can't push him.) But someday he'll fall asleep on my lap, and know who I am. His momma. I dream of tucking him in for bed again.. A bath, book, then sleepy time.. I'll someday be able to give him a kiss goodnight. But I shouldn't have gotten all of these lonely 500 nights.

Where is my baby?

Sleepy boy

At night I cry wondering how I did this to us. I cry wondering why I can't even get in contact with him. I cry wondering just about him. What's his favorite toy? His favorite food? His favorite book? What's his day like? Does he have friends? Is he a smartie pants? Does his dad play with him, take him to the park, and just snuggle him enough? Is he getting enough love?

“What can I do to do to fix this?" Is my biggest question in my head. It's been almost 500 days. 500 days I've missed out on. I said I was sorry 7,273 times, for whatever I did and he doesn't bat an aye. I constantly ask for pictures or FaceTimes and he acts like I'm dead.

After high school everyone parted ways. Most to college or such. My idea was different. I wanted to marry my high school sweetheart and have a baby! I had the most perfect person, and to have another. I wanted someone to make me be whole again. Make me forget my traumas. Someone to love on and also love me. I was ready for the endless nights, him being sick, blow outs in the store, anything. The bad, or the good. The good made all the "bad", well it wasn't bad. It just made a stronger mom. I just wanted a baby. MY BABY to be exact.

Once I had him, OH MY GOSH. That boy changed me, and for the better. I finally realized how powerful a mother and son relationship could be. He was my person. He was always there for me when I was happy, or even sad. One oz of sadness would come in, and I'd forget it was even there when I looked at him. He was always there for me, as I was for him. But only 7 months.....

Where is my baby?

I would do anything to relive 2016- now. I would have done so many things different.. I don't even know what were the exact slip ups were? Some people's imagination is.. well.. imaginary. But I can't fix the past.. But how?

The legal system is not in my favor. And his father.... It's like I'm dead to him. I was the one who dreamed and dreamed of having a baby, and he said ok. I'm the one who wanted him, and somehow I don't have him? And I'm alone.

I said “You're giving up on your family?" ...'"I have a family, my dog and my son. Those two are the only thing that makes me happy.

I begged and pleaded for him to let me be a part of their family. I never thought I would be kicked out of my own family wondering:

Where is my baby?

The pain I have felt the last 500 days.. Is just indescribable. He's alive, but it's like he's not. He IS alive but I feel as if he died. Loosing him took half my heart. I've had no closure, my heart is just open and exposed. Waiting..

A mother should never have to say, "I feel as if my 2 year old son is dead...."

Again, A mother should never have to say, "I feel as if my 2 year old son is dead...."

How did it get this bad? I used to say "this'll get easier over time." HELL NO. It gets harder and harder by the day,

I missed: his first real word, his first tooth coming in, his first steps, his first birthday (almost his second birthday too) Mother's Day, (my 1st and 2nd).. I'm missing everything!!! Every single thing. 7 months just wasn't long enough. Not long enough at all.. I think of those memories all day, but some, they're starting fade. I'm so sick of crying. All. The. Time. I'm sick of having people look at me as a "bad mom". I would do ANYTHING to have my boy sitting on my lap right now, instead of me typing this. You don't know what you have until it's gone. I just never thought he would be gone. Ever.

Where is my baby?

I would've done everything different. Not needed anyone's help... I would have canged all his diapers, fed him every time, bathed him every time he needed it. I would've never said “hey can you change the diaper this time?" To his dad. I would've done everything and anything for him. I still will.

How do you just convince a judge, attorney, GAL, and masons dad that I AM A GOOD MOM? And would never do anything to harm him. Just even thinking that they say I'm not, makes me sick. I did nothing to harm my son. I deserve him too.

Where is my baby?

(But he's alive healthy and safe and I'm happy for that.)

What man wants to be a single dad while co-parenting is an option? (No one thought he'd last two weeks. How is he managing now?) Why won't he even let me FaceTime or get videos/pictures? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS? Who thought it would be so hard to click the take button on the camera, and press send..?

Where is my baby?

I thought it'd get better.. But it's not. Every second away from him hurts.

He said he left because he just couldn't handle my mental health, but now he is torturing me. This isn't making things better? Sometimes I think, I would have rather him shot and killed me, than do this to me. I wait everyday for a phone call from the court or something from him. But I get nothing.

Where is my baby?

I never knew missing someone could be so mentally exhausting.. I'm sick of crying.. I'm sick of wondering what he's doing all the time. I'm just so sick.

Where is my baby?

Once we have court, and if they keep him away from me again.. I don't think I'll be healthy enough to survive.

Mason is my proper medicine. Not my antidepressant or mood stabilizers. Him.

He's the reason I am alive to this day. He is the reason I do everything I do. I took care of myself, and I've been ready. Ready for my boy to come back into my arms.

I don't know if this helped anyone, not many mothers get their babies taken away, unexpectedly. I just wanted to let you ladies you, you are not alone. And well this helped me. I hope if it does, you're reunited with your child someday too. I wish this pain upon no one.

My whole point to this is: This is how I lost my boy in the blink of an eye. What I would do to see him, feel/touch him and head his miraculous voice and laugh..... DON'T GIVE UP ON YOUR BABY. It's hard. I know it is. Someday I won't say:

Where is my baby?

I will be saying “I found my baby."

Saying goodbye

And to the ones who judge people like me saying “you're a bad parent" or “you're just a deadbeat"., Look at yourself, and now you'll probably examine yourself a little more. You notice something? Flaws. Everyone has them. You never expect things like this, until they happen. I didn't want to loose him or ever plan on it. I love him so much, it hurts.

Where is my baby?

FaceTiming a few months ago. (All I've seen in 2-3 months)

I'm ready for him.. I always have been but I'm even stronger now.

Where is my baby?

When will I get him back?

How is he doing?

These are the questions I seem to be asking myself everyday.

I don't ever know who he's with, what he's doing. Well I already said, I know nothing about him almost. And the courts are saying it's been so long it would be like he would be coming to a stranger.

Where is my baby?

He's my boy..

My baby. My Chunky Monkey. My Peanut. My sweet boy. My Mason Johnson Francis.

I'm glad I took care of my mental health problems so I can flourish more as a parent too. Never be scared to get professional help if needed. Because even I did.. Listen to doctors about things medical/mental. (Especially not bitter boys with a negative motive.)

In reality.... My boy will never find a better mother. I love like normal people just don't know how to. And no one will ever love him like I do. I can't wait to hold and love him again. But the big question is when will that day come?

Where is my baby?

I feel as if his narcissistic father has my head in a bathtub of water, and isn't letting me come up for air. Just waiting for me to die. I'm stronger than the girl in 2016.

I need Mason waiting for me. I don't ever want him to think I just left him or forgotten about him.

I just want Mason back.

Where is Mason?

Someone, where is Mason?

I just need my Mason boy back.


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'Sissy, Why is That Boy Wearing Makeup?'

June is time to celebrate equality.


This past weekend, I went to the mall with my family. It was just a normal family excursion, and I wanted to walk into Sephora to show my mom a perfume I liked. We go inside, and my mother and I drift away from my dad and 6 year old sister, Sierra. I showed her the perfume I thought smelled amazing (Roses de Chloé) and we look for my sister and father to exit the store. As soon as we leave, my little sister grabs my hand and asks, "Sissy, why is that boy wearing makeup?"

This was the first time my little sister has ever asked about anything like this, and I wanted to make sure I gave her an answer. I turned to her and said, "Sierra, sometimes there are boys who wear makeup, and girls who may dress like boys. People are allowed to wear what they want, it doesn't matter." Sierra looks up at me, says, "Oh okay," and that was the end of it.

Sharing this experience to say, HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!

So thankful to live in a country where all sexual orientations get a day to celebrate their love. That's what this world needs more of-- love. It shouldn't matter who it is, where they are from, the color on their skin, or their gender identity.

When Sierra was born, I always wondered when this conversation would come up. I wondered what I would say, how she would react to it, and how she would be exposed to it. Like I consistently preach, everything happens for a reason, and I'm glad Sierra was able to get exposure and receive an immediate answer. Love is love, and I will forever stand by that.

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