I will not be a punching bag.

I took some time away from Instagram.  It was a nice break but it gave me some serious time to think.  I got some awful messages from women before my departure that, if I’m being honest, really tore me up.  

The weird thing with being a “blogger” is that it somehow makes people think they have the liberty to throw awful criticism at you.  I’ve proudly built my Instagram community around the “be kind” motto so when you get women hurling messages at you like “you’re an awful person, what kind of mom are you, and then ‘baby killer’” you take a step back.

The weird thing with being a “blogger” is that it somehow makes people think they have the liberty to throw awful criticism at you.

Last week I recorded Instagram stories after Kamala Harris gave a beautiful speech after her (projected – putting this here before I get more mean messages) Vice President elect win.  I am 100% in support of a WOMAN in the White House no matter what their party. I think this is a huge deal for women and I 100% believe this is something that should be celebrated.  I never said anything about how anyone needed to agree with her but, I felt as women, this is a moment in history to celebrate.

I’m going to quote a portion of Kamala’s speech that resonated with me and this is what I hope Kenzie will grow up knowing. “While I may be the first woman in this office, I won’t be the last.  Because every little girl watching tonight sees that this is a country of possibilities. And to the children of our country, regardless of your gender, our country has sent you a clear message: Dream with ambition, lead with conviction, and see yourself in a way that others might not see you, simply because they’ve never seen it before.”

Having a daughter and seeing a woman standing there is historic and that’s what I said on Instagram.  I was flooded with positive messages including some from women who don’t agree with Kamala Harris’ policies but could still recognize that this was a historic moment.  Then, I was flooded with messages of the complete opposite nature.  They were hate filled, mean and downright awful.  I had numerous women tell me what an awful person I am.  I was called a bimbo idiot without a real job and one woman even went so far as to say I support baby killing.

I don’t have to explain my stance on abortion because it is rooted in a traumatic event I experienced in 2008.  But, I refuse to be called something I’m not.  

I’m going to back up some because I feel like a little history is important here.  I grew up in a Christian, Southern Baptist home. I’m a Christian woman. I don’t necessarily claim a certain denomination but I’m a Christian. I attend church (when we aren’t in a pandemic) and I’m thankful for my upbringing. I believe being raised in a Christian home gave me a great moral compass, taught me kindness and empathy and shaped who I am today. I am proud of who I am and I’m proud of my beliefs. 

I moved to Los Angeles in August of 2008. I’d begged my parents to let me move across the country where I knew literally no one to pursue a fashion degree at FIDM. This took some serious convincing on my part because I know the thought of their child living in California and knowing no one was terrifying. (Now being a parent, I get this.). My parents finally caved and off I went on a road trip across the country with my dad. I’m so thankful for that time because he’d unfortunately pass less than 3 years later. 

I arrived in Los Angeles, met my roommate and moved into my apartment downtown. All was right in the world. As a naive young 20 something I think sometimes I felt invincible but life was great. I was finally in the place I wanted to be, going to the school I wanted to be attending and I had a beautiful apartment. I hung out with my roommate, who thankfully was wonderful, and I was so incredibly happy.

Then, it happened. I was raped. I didn’t know too much about a club scene. I’d been to a few here and there but it wasn’t really much my jam. I went with my roommate one night to my first L.A. club not really knowing what to expect. I thought it was your typical club. This night my roommate and I were separated. I wasn’t drinking but I sat down at the bar and ordered one drink. One. The bartender was nice, and he felt bad I couldn’t get in touch with or find my roommate. He talked to me for a few minutes, I walked to the restroom, came back and I remember nothing else.

I was raped.

I woke up in a car that wasn’t mine, on a street I didn’t know with my pants at my ankles. I immediately knew what happened. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. How did this happen? What did I do? I immediately started blaming myself. I got out of the car and collected some of my belongings from the floor -  thankfully one of which was my cell phone. I called a taxi (Uber wasn’t really a thing yet) and I didn’t even know my address. I’m so thankful for the cab driver who helped me, calmed me down and helped me get home. I don’t remember her name, but I wish I could hug her.

That’s the thing I think so many rape victims feel, shame and guilt. Like I somehow deserved that.

I don’t think I left my room for a few days. I called my parents telling them I needed to come home, but they told me it would take time to adjust. To this day they don’t know what happened. I could never tell them.  I knew how disappointed they would be and I took all the blame. That’s the thing I think so many rape victims feel, shame and guilt. Like I somehow deserved that. (Also, I’m sending this to my mom before it’s posted. This is not how I’d want her to find something like this out.). 

I don’t want to talk much more about the actual incident. I’ve tried to block it from my brain. I’ve sought therapy and usually I think I’m doing ok.  There are issues that trigger it where I suddenly feel all the pain come back again. Like…. last week.

After I was raped, I knew I’d have to be seen by a doctor. I did not want my parents to know so I chose to be seen at Planned Parenthood in Los Angeles. I vividly remember sitting in the freezing, hospital like room absolutely terrified. What if I had an STD? What if I’m pregnant? I couldn’t keep a baby conceived out of this trauma. Thank God I wasn’t pregnant and didn’t have to make that decision or that I hadn’t contracted an STD. But I had a choice. I remember that moment like it was yesterday. Abortion has always been a hot topic and I get it. I love my kids; I’d do absolutely anything for them. They know that and I’m pretty sure everyone else I know does too. 

BUT what if I had gotten pregnant from that horrible moment? I couldn’t live with carrying that baby. What if that happens to your daughter? What if you could possibly die from giving birth? What if your baby won’t live once it’s born? Prior to that exact moment if you’d ask me if I was for or against abortion being legal, I would’ve given you a resounding no, ‘I’m pro-life’. When you are there, thinking you could be making that decision your perspective changes. 

I won’t be going to pro abortion rallies and that’s ok - it’s my choice.  I also won’t tell you what to do with your body.  That’s your choice but you have the choice and I sincerely hope that right isn’t taken away.

You can be a Christian and be “pro-life” but still agree there can be a choice.  You can be a Christian and support the LGBTQ+ community.  You can be a Christian and demand change for your BLM friends.  You can even be a Christian and, gasp, vote for a Democrat.  Jesus hung out with people that weren’t like Him, in places His followers didn’t hang out.  Jesus showed love, compassion, empathy and kindness and that’s what I’m going to keep doing.

Jesus hung out with people that weren’t like Him, in places His followers didn’t hang out.

I don’t really know what my future holds on Coco+Kenzie or on Instagram for that matter.  I sincerely hope that before you send messages to an Instagram stranger you think about how that could completely trigger a past trauma, depression/anxiety or even just recognize that words hurt.

XO

Jess

Every 73 seconds someone is sexually assaulted in the US. 1 of every 6 women will be the victim of attempted or completed rape. If you need help call 1-800-656-HOPE (4673)