Being a Whistleblower with The Public Speaking Mindset

My dad was a whistleblower against the $885 million dollar empire of Hughes Market in the 1980s.

He was forced to work hard, long hours at a store in Malibu where many of the rich & famous shopped back in the day…

… like Farrah Fawcet, David Hasselhoff, Chevy Chase.

His complaints were ignored as the son of the owner Joseph Hughes, Roger, was the store manager.

My dad’s spine, messed up from childhood abuse & 7 years in the U.S. Army…

… finally gave out in 1989 on the job after multiple long shifts on the clock.

He lost a lawsuit & went on disability at age 38.

For years, my dad was incredibly paranoid about people spying on him.

He kept several notes about neighbors: descriptions, when they came home/left.

He believed he was being spied on in retaliation.

His mental health deteriorated after a LIFETIME of unhealed trauma.

He was SO close to choosing healing when he activated his third eye powers as an intuitive in the early 1980s…

…as he was pushing himself at work.

He tried to start a business as an astrologer after he met my mom.

He had my full chart mapped out for me the day I was born.

He had a full set of tarot cards, which I still have to this day.

Shortly after meeting my mom, he stopped trying with his business.

Instead, he chose to drink & fight with her.

He was close AGAIN when he stopped drinking after separating from my mom in 1991.

…but he never chose to engage in actual recovery: spiritually, physically, emotionally, mentally.

So he was a keg ready to burst at any moment.

Many many many moments he did, with me.

When I started middle school & became strong enough to start fighting back…

….he was on a mission to find a woman who would put him with him & his unhealed trauma instead of me, his own child.

He did find one, very quickly, my stepmother who was originally from the Philippines…

…. & experienced abuse as a child & relentless cheating by her ex-husband, whom he was with from 1997 to 2004.

They had a tumultuous relationship & he was verbally / emotionally abusive towards her.

She’d try to leave him & he’d send her bosses emails & stalk her at work.

Many in the caregiving industry at that time were immigrants with only a green card.

…including my stepmom, at the time.

All of them were terrified he could “rat them out” at any time.

Despite him having a scapegoat, I *still* received the brunt of his lifelong unhealed trauma with relentless abuse from the time I was a young child up until he died by suicide in 2004.

There were several times when I was struck.

The police were called at least 3 times, from what I can remember.

A social worker came out at least three times in the aftermath.

One, in particular, was the first & only person to ever “see” me.

She came by twice.

The second time, she gave me her calling card.

I held onto it for months.

….but I never used it.

I was terrified that if I didn’t live with him, I’d be sent to live with my alcoholic mom.

As a 12-year-old, those were the choices I felt I had.

Either one hell or the other.

Only one other person saw him rage, my best friend at the time, who we would pick up from work when we were 15 or 16.

The only reason why she saw is he thought he could drive me there early to rage at me in the car before she got off work.

She got off work early that day & saw me shaking in tears.

I’ll never forget how I felt being exposed.

It wasn’t so much about my dad.

It was how she saw what he did to me, turned me into a shell of a person when I was this silly & goofy girl who made everyone laugh at school.

…but shortly after that, between writing notes to several friends about what he was doing & sharing it on Livejournal through numerous posts.

I finally got the courage to stand up to him in November 2002.

Then, I finally left in August 2003.

For years, I framed leaving him as him kicking me out of his one bedroom apartment me, him & my stepmom shared.

He said he wanted me out, but looking back, he didn’t mean it.

He even told me he didn’t mean it.

I ran out of the house & left.

I called my mom, who picked me up, who was living in a motel at the time after several bad financial decisions.

She actually had groomed me to go back to her around that time, knowing I was gathering the strength to finally leave him.

….but that’s a story for another time.

I have pushed out a lot of the memories.

…but I have been working through them, somatically, with amazing coaches & healers.

It’s taken over 20 years to finally use that calling card.

It wasn’t for a social worker.

It was for a coach who I feel sees me like that social worker did.

Let me be the breathing & living example that…

It’s possible to choose to ask for help & to take it.

It’s possible to break the cycle of alcoholism & addiction, choosing sobriety AND recovery.

It’s possible to break the cycle of paranoia about speaking out.

It’s possible to become a powerful whistleblower against abuse…

…& live to tell the tale, thriving in your own luxury apartment in a nice part of town.

It’s possible to invite in endless prosperity when you decide to begin the process of doing so now, instead of waiting for your abusers to die out.

…& create thousands of dollars by helping others do the same.

When you decide right now to do so, you’ll break the cycle of thousands of years NO woman has ever done in your family before you.

You’ll make the decision to speak your truth.

….& share your REAL story.

That is EXACTLY your pot of gold, sister.

Simply DECIDING you will speak it, eventually.

….by choosing to receive help, right now.

This is YOUR calling card.

Use it.

I’ll see you on the other side.

P.S. I help you share your story of surviving trauma by helping you move through it, first, as you become the first woman in your family to see 6 figures…

….using a 3 step simple, proven & effective process called The Public Speaking Mindset.

Tap this link now to fill out an application to coach with me.

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