This is pretty raw.... pretty straight forward.

So, a friend sent me a link to a website called "Violence Unsilenced" and it's a website about people who have suffered from sexual abuse, etc. Reading through some of the posts, it inspired me to write mine. I would have posted this on their website, but there is a 3-5 month wait and kind of a pain to get it on there. I'm really hesitant to put this out there, but they say it's a good way to cope with the feelings. And it's been on my chest for 13 years now. And here we go..........


The term "Father Figure" to me will be forever scarred. Let's see.. I, Summer Reding, was born July 8, 1991 at LSU Medical Center. My mother was 18 years old, and my father was no where to be found. I was supposed to be put up for adoption, but it ended up falling through. My father didn't meet me for the first time until I was a week old and he was belligerent drunk with a beer in his hand. He was in and out of my life until I was 8 years old. From that point on I didn't see him again until I was 17. But that's a whole 'nother story. When I was 4 1/2 years old, my mom married a guy named Keith Baldwin. He was my new "dad."

At first, it seemed like the life me and mom always wanted. We're an Air Force family now. We don't live in a house anymore with uneven floors and squeaky doors. We live on Barksdale Air Force Base. Keith was awesome. He showed me attention and played with me... I thought he was the coolest dude ever. I called him Keith until I was about 6 years old. I remember one morning before school he told me he wasn't going to answer me unless I called him daddy. So, from that point on, he was "Daddy."


We moved into Creekside, in Haughton, when I was 6 1/2. Life just seemed to be getting better and better. I even had a new baby brother, Alex. It was awesome. Until I was 7 years old, it came to a halt.


I remember going to Sonic. It's something we always did. We drove around and looked at houses, like we always did. I fell asleep in the car, like I always did. Keith carried me in, I'm assuming my mom had my brother. I even remember what I had on.... my Adidas outfit. I was woken up at some point during the walk from the garage to my room, but still kind of half-asleep. The next thing I remember is "Daddy's" hands some where they weren't supposed to be. It wasn't over my pants or over my underwear. It was skin on skin contact. I felt my father's 2 fingers touching me down there. There was no penetration, just touching. I pretended like I was asleep, I didn't know what else to do. I blocked this thought out for many, many, many years.


Other than that time, I don't remember any more skin on skin contact. I do know however, that it did happen more than that time. There have been times where he has snuck into my room (while I was asleep) and I didn't find out until later on.


Here's just some examples of the things that he did, that wouldn't be considered "molestation."

• Forcing me to kiss him on the mouth until I was about 14 and finally told him no.
• Teaching me how to drive when I was 13, and making me sit in his lap. And somehow his hand always ended up in between my legs. I would try to wedge out of it and make it seem like I didn't know. What was I supposed to say? "Hey dad, can you get your hands away from my crotch?"
• Scratching my back (this happened ALL the time)..... his hands would always manage to scratch beneath my lower back. every. single. time.
• Showing me STDs at the age of 12. I'm talking very explicit, graphic pictures of males and females with herpes, genital warts, etc.
• Having the "sex" talk with me at 9 years old. I remember having nightmares about walking down the street and sex was written every where. Seems silly now, but I remember it vividly. 
• Telling me when I was 14 or 15, that sometimes girls have to finger themselves so they can have an orgasm. 
• Showing me pictures of porn stars named Summer. He also showed me ones named Amanda, too. Not sure why.
• Showing me porn on the computer. He'd ask me to sit down, and as soon as I'd see what it was I'd just get up and walk away. 
• Waking me up in the morning, by grabbing my ass and shaking it. 
• Telling me when I was 15, that men really like curves, and I have a nice ass and men are really gonna like that one day. 
• Telling me before my Senior Homecoming that I looked "really hot."
• When Brandon lived with me, he slept on the floor. He told me that one night at about 2:30-3 in the morning, my dad came in. The TV was on, Brandon just acted like he was asleep. He said my dad stood over my bed for a good 10-15 minutes. I still don't know why. 
• One time I was laying in between my wall and bed talking to my boyfriend in high school. I was laying on the floor so I could reach my charger. My door was shut (I always shut my door) and I rolled over to find my dad laying parallel with the end of my bed. My door was barely open. He somehow managed to open my door, crawl in, and lay at the end of my bed without me noticing. Who does that?
• I lost my virginity at 17 years old. My dumbass wrote about it in my journal. Nothing graphic. Just stating that it was a big day and my legs were sore. Well, my dad got a hold of it but told me my mom did. And he had many questions about it.. here's a few. 
• "Are you a screamer?"
• "Was he big?"
• "How long did it last?"
• "Was it every thing I always wanted?"
• "Did I use a condom?"
• My dad also told me that since Brandon was living with us, and we needed "alone" time, to just let him know and him and my family would leave.
• He also insisted that while I was in San Antonio for Brandon's BMT Graduation, that we should tell my mom and brother to leave the hotel room. "Because he hadn't had any in 2 months, and he needs some!" (Which, by the way we didn't have sex while I was in San Antonio) 
• Before he left for a deployment one time, he came in my room to lay down with me. I was on my back, he was on his side and somehow he managed to grope my boob. And his hand stayed there, just cupping it until I finally got up and walked out of the room.
• When I was 13, I had really long hair. I had curled it one day and was putting my make up on in my mom's bathroom. I was leaning over the counter putting eye liner on, and he was taking pictures of me bent over. But he was really "just taking pictures of my hair."
• He made a comment to my boyfriend, that he would bone one of my best friends.

I think we all get the point now. Those are just some of the major things that happened. That's why I don't just say I was sexually abused. I lived in constant paranoia. I always put towels under the door when I took showers, so he couldn't peep through the cracks. I always changed clothes behind my closet doors in my room so he couldn't see in. When I found out I was moving to Kansas, mom said oh good, dad can help you move! I was SO TERRIFIED that he was going to put cameras in my apartment in Kansas, and watch shit on them while he was at home.

But, this is the hard part. My mom and I never had a good relationship. Daddy was always there to make me feel better. He would always tell me "You can tell me anything, I promise I won't tell mom." So of course when me and my mom would fight, who else was I supposed to talk to? There was no one else.

My dad is the one who I can thank my music appreciation for. My dad was smart as fuck. He was a mechanic. He taught me how to change a tire, rotate tires, change the oil, etc.

So of course it's hard to take in. Jason Faustner (real dad) is and has been out of the picture. Mom and I had a rocky relationship, and Keith was always there but was a pedophile. Can you see where some form of depression would form?

August of 2009, I told my mom what Keith had been doing. I haven't spoken to Keith since July of 09. So my life did a 180 in a very short time.

So I guess that's my story. This has helped me cope a little bit. I feel better. The nightmares/flashbacks still haven't slowed down. BUT, I am getting better. Of course, I've been dealing with this for years now. I guess you know now why music means so much to me. That was THE ONLY thing that kept me sane. And still does to this day. I love you all <3

Southern Guidelines Yall!

Well, before I leave this wonderful, beautiful, amazing state of Kansas, I want you Kansas folks (and any other northerners for that matter) to understand us southerners language! So here's a guide to help you understand! (Couey, most of these are for you)

Sure, our way of talkin' is a little retarded and makes us sound real dumb.. but it is what it is!


First of all, the silver thing at the grocery store with 4 wheels on it... THAT IS A BUGGY. We do not call them shopping carts, carts, whatever may have you. It is a damn buggy. Ask anyone and every one, they will tell you that's what it is. I am not crazy.


Dr. Pepper, Mr. Pibb, Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, Rootbeer, Cherry Coke, Mountain Dew, Fanta, etc. THESE ARE ALL COKES! We don't drink Pop, Soda, or Soda Pop..... we drink Cokes. "Ma'am, what kind of coke can I get you?" "I would like a Dr. Pepper." Is that so hard to understand? It's a coke. coke. coke. coke. coke. coke. coke. coke.


We do not drink iced tea either. I mean maybe if you're old, or a diabetic..... other than that we drink SWEET TEA. Usually it's not even a question of "Sweet or Unsweet?" And yes, I refuse to drink Sweet Tea in Kansas unless it's Red Diamond or McAlister's.

The place where you buy cigarettes, beer, late night snacks, and icees (no they don't have those in Kansas) is a gas station. Not a convenience store. Gas Station... usually Circle K.

Mom calls and asks me what I'm doing, "I'm fixin' to go to Circle K." <------- there is nothing wrong with this sentence.

You may think you know what "ghetto" is, but you do not. Come on and stop by on Sprague Street, I'll show you ghetto. Or Jewella, Downtown Shreveport, Cedar Grove, Wafer Road, Princeton Road, Hearne Avenue, etc.. whichever you choose.

Yes, you can be 18 and bartend.

YES! There are actually places where you can buy daiquiris to go. As in a Drive-Thru. It's kind of like McDonald's but with no food and lots of alcohol! We also have Drive-Thru tobacco places. 


For Thanksgiving, it is NOT weird to have Jambalaya or Gumbo. It isn't.

Yall is said by every person in the state of Louisiana. I don't care if you're a doctor. You say Yall.

Our state bird is the Brown Pelican and our state flower is a magnolia.... just in case you were wondering. :)

It is not uncommon to go muddin' in the dead of winter.... It is also not uncommon to ride 4-wheelers and tractors to school on your last day. Well, at least my high school. Yes, I rode in the front end of a tractor once.

For most people Sunday is Church, Football, and beer day.

Yes, we have parties in the woods. That is not weird. It's just really cold sometimes.

We have ice scrapers, ONLY to get the frozen morning dew off of our vehicles, not snow or ice.

Come to our Wal-Mart...... you'll see lots of interesting things :)

We the Revel and Mudbug Madness. At the Revel you can look at pretty art, make some stuff, drink some beer, and listen to music, and eat good food. At Mudbug Madness you eat a lot of crawfish that's overpriced, drink a lot of beer, and listen to a lot of music.

It is a crawfish. Not a crawnad, a crawdad, or a crayfish. And no, you didn't catch 500 at Lake ElDorado, Derek from Kansas. You also did not grill them on a grill.

LSU is pronounced L-ESH-YEW not L-ESS-U

Mardi Gras is where you wake up early, find you a spot by the road, get a lot of beer and alcohol, freeze your ass off, parade starts at 7ish you catch some beads scream really loud and act like the crazy drunk you are. No one gives a fuck at Mardi Gras. It is awesome. Go even further down south and you'll see some tits ;)

Sports are really important to us. That's why our weather station KSLA got bitched out with like 300 comments on facebook about how they were pissed for the weather team interrupting the LSU game. I think it was pretty severe weather, too. Not sure, I was in Kansas. I do know that the weather man had to be escorted out of the news station.

GEAUX means GO. I don't know why Kansas didn't teach yall that EAU makes an O sound... but the X is silent..... GEAUX GEAUX GEAUX! GEAUX TIGERS!!!! GEAUX SAINTS!!! Get it? I mean it's a french state. Hello.

We have parishes not counties. It was very, very, VERY odd when people asked what county I lived in here in Kansas. Which is Sedgwick County. In Louisiana, that would be Sedgwick Parish.

We still have paddles at schools in Louisiana.

Fleur-de-lis are every where. I mean every where. I think it's our state symbol now.

We eat alligator meat. It is VERY delicious.

This is all I can think of for now.... :) Smoke break! If you can think of anything else, please comment it on here or facebook!


THANK YALL SO MUCH YOU KNOW I LOVE YALL YALL ARE SO DARN AWESOME!!!!

Last day of school. In a tractor.

Things I just don't understand!

So... sometimes I see things on facebook, on tv, at work, or even just in public... and a lot of it baffles me to pieces! I just wanna share things that I just don't quite understand. (I'm going to go ahead and apologize for being a little too blunt :P)

I'll start with facebook! 

WHY WHY WHY do girls statuses always have to be something along the lines of "Omg, I'm having a horrible day. Don't text me or call me unless you're a family member or a girl. But I love you so much (name goes here) <3 <3 <3" or "I love my life and all the people in it. Especially my AMAZING boyfriend that I love so much. He's just so sweet and presh!" NO! Your boyfriend don't care that he's amazing, sweet, and presh. In fact, I bet he's barfing reading this. Why can't we say something like.... "Today is Thanksgiving. I'm going to spend time with my boyfriend (that I've only known for a couple of months) and we're going to do the same things most girlfriends and boyfriends do. Just because he tells me I'm pretty and texts me 24/7 doesn't make him the most amazing, sweet, presh person on the planet. But I do like him." Little more real, eh? Oh, and by the way. You're dumb to think he doesn't tell every girl he's trying to pull that they're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. And he doesn't love you. He loves your vagina. Ok?


Another thing I can't stand on facebook.... "Thiiz biitch` wanna tAlK thAt biiq shiiT, butt fucc `em iMMa k3ep doiin` me niqqa !!" Really? REALLY? First of all, the bitch that you're referring to probably doesn't even know it's her because you're too much of a coward to say anything to her face. Secondly, if the bitch DOES know it's her, it just took her 10 minutes to read it. So, why don't we type like we should, you fine Americans, that way we can all live peacefully. ;) Seriously though.. if this girl is talking shit, why don't you use the phone and take matters into your own hands instead of putting it on the internet. I'm sure this bitch will be much more terrified with you showing up at her front door. And if you want to talk all ghetto, at least we don't have to see/hear it.

One more thing I can't stand on facebook... letting your cleavage show (on purpose) isn't cute. Taking pictures in front of the mirror in your bathing suit isn't cute. Having the same 10 profile pictures in a row with you in the same outfit, hair, make up, etc. but it 10 different poses isn't cute. C'mon, no one cares that you love yourself that much.



Ok, now for things I don't understand on TV! 


All of these stupid reality shows. Where the hell did the sitcoms go?! I'm sorry Bret Michaels, but you're old and you wear a wig. I know you were cool in the 80s when you were rocking out to "AND BABBBYYY TALK DIRTY TO ME!" BUT, it's time to settle down, cowboy, and find a WOMAN. Not some dumb blonde bimbo that's around my age pierced up, tatted up, and basically naked. (nothing wrong with piercings and tattoos, but let's not be slutty about them) I'm sorry, but if you see a woman with her own name, or her CHILD'S tattooed on her tit..... you should probably reconsider what you're getting into.

I myself, have a potty mouth. I know this. But I absolutely do not think it's ok that words are becoming uncensored on television. What happens when you leave the TV on E! while your kid was taking a nap, you get up to go do something, she comes in the living room and says, "Mommy what does bitch mean?" C'mon America... I don't give a shit about much, but you could at least have some dignity!

I also don't understand polygamy. I'm just going to leave it at that. Kody Brown, you are a strange mother fucker.


Now on to the things that I don't understand at work....


You can not get 18 Traditional Boneless wings. We can not put bones in processed chicken.


Your 2 year old that's running all around the restaurant, put it in a high chair.


If I ask you if you want ranch, bleu cheese, or celery and you say no. Don't ask me for some when I bring your food out.


Don't touch me. Just don't. Whether it's slapping me on the ass with a menu, or touching my arm. Don't touch me.


You and your friends that come eat in your Tapout and Affliction clothes, aren't cool. Just more reason for me to verify that you are, for SURE, a douche bag.


Leaving me a 2.00 tip and on the credit card slip, writing "your hot" (which by the way is YOU'RE) or your phone number, yea. At least leave a good tip.


Now for the public entertainment...


I'm a firm believer that you can go into public looking like shit. If I need a pack of cigarettes and I'm in my royal blue sweat pants and a neon yellow hoodie, you best believe I'm not changing my clothes. However, I wouldn't go into a restaurant looking that way. Or the mall. Walmart, maybe.

Making out in the middle of the mall, or at every red light is completely unnecessary.

Walking down the middle of the parking lot when I'm driving trying to find a parking spot really makes me want to run you over.

When it's 50 degrees outside, and your child is in their car seat in nothing but a diaper and a shirt with no shoes.... something is wrong, terribly wrong.

Wearing your flat bill hat backwards leaning way, way back in your seat with your rap music blaring isn't cool. Especially in your '97 Crown Victoria.

There's really no need to speed off like you're cool after I just rejected you.





Ok, ok I'm done. I really could go on forever but once again I need a cigarette! >.< Love y'all!!

The "D" word!

So.... I've never "blogged" before... so.... let's see how this thang goez! And what shall my first post be about? My Divorce, since you're all dying to know about it! I know you are....

Where do I start with this shit? Hmmmm... I'll just type it how I think it.

I, Summer Reding, re-met a guy named Brandon Murphy back in August of 2008. Holy shit it's almost 2011! Anyway, I knew him when I was younger.. didn't speak again till August. We started dating September 10, 2008. He was "the love of my life, the cheese to my macaroni, the missing puzzle piece, blah, blah, blah..." Really was an awesome dude! He listened to Zeppelin and Floyd.. and all the other good music I listen to. So we dated and never fought, he did every thing for me. You call it like you see it. He got kicked out of his mother's house in February 2009, and moved in with my and my family until the end of March. During that time he made the decision to join the USAF so that he could support me and himself. The plan was to get married and have a jolly ol time!

So, the 8 weeks he was in BMT we wrote each other every day. Yes, just like you see in the movies. He asked me to marry him, I said yes. At 17, I start planning a wedding. (what the FUCK WAS I THINKING?) From June 09-January10 he was in Tech School.... Half of the time he was in Biloxi, Ms and the other was in Wichita Falls, TX. We saw each other roughly once a month. We got married November 14, 2009. The very next day he went back to Texas. I then found out we were getting orders to Wichita, Kansas... I honestly thought my life was ending. Of all places... KANSAS?!?! What?! Yea... Kansas. And don't worry, it's every thing it's chalked up to be. Boring, flat, and yes windy. Don't bother fixing your hair here. So, we pack our shit up February 13th, and move our happy asses to Kansas!

It was cool when we first got here. We had our first apartment, lived in a different city, a different STATE for that matter, and well.... we were living the high adult life! I soon got a job at Buffalo Wild Wings and he was at the base. But...... about 3 weeks later we start butting heads. Finances were hard. I lost my 2006 Nissan Murano due to becoming behind on my car note for 2 months. Guess who got underpaid? Mr. Murphy. We had to eviction notices on our apartment door. Guess who's car note money took care of the bills during the month of May... Mrs. Murphy's. Bye bye beautiful Nissan Murano! Hello 1998 Chrysler Sebring. Rollin' white on white! *fist pump*

Then came the fun part. Living pay check to pay check. I'm totally aware that most  couples do. Which is ok.... when you're paying your bills and not buying rifles, fish tanks, lizards and beer. So guess who gave Mr. Murphy an ultimatum... that would be me. I said either we get a joint account or share our money with each other or I'm leaving, and he chose his lousy A1C paycheck. Let me put it to you in a simple way.... if Summer had no cash on her and needed a pack of cigarettes, she would have to beg Mr. Murphy to use his debit card. Mr. Murphy also had the nerve to tell her that the money she had saved up in a jar for a DOWN PAYMENT FOR A VEHICLE SINCE SHE JUST LOST HERS DUE TO HIS LACK OF RESPONSIBILITY, was his back-up money. Uhhhhhh.... no. You chose that we don't share our money, so no, this is not yours you greedy bastard.

So I left. Bye bye Mr. Murphy! The plan wasn't for a divorce, it was to prove a point. But it turned into a long, long point. He then decided he wasn't happy, in love, and didn't want to be married. I was devastated of course. Who wouldn't be? About a month later, I was over it. And then he wasn't. Am I being too honest? I then lived with my umm... "best friend" Liya. Well, the apartment people decided I couldn't live there anymore because you can't have 3 people in the apartment. So, next I went to Jim's. Well..... that lasted for one night. So, off to Shani and Ben's I go! This was all in the span of 3 weeks. During the time from the beginning of August until the 14th of November... we have fought, fought, fought and fought some more. Whether it was me throwing pictures of us across the room, him slamming my hand in the door, me screaming at him in the apartment parking lot, or him telling me what a crazy lunatic bitch I am... all we did was fight. The ironic thing is guess who got phone calls at 3-3:30 sometimes 4 in the morning at least once a week? Me. How many times did I call him? Probably about 5 when we first split. Not to tell him I miss him, to bitch him out and tell him that I hated his guts. Ok, maybe I told him I missed him like once.


Point is, it just wasn't working. So there you have it. It took an arm and a leg to get the fucking divorce final but I eventually did. And so now Mr. Murphy is a free man! Ladies... he's all yours! ;) haha......hahahahahaha....... ha. ha.. he... ha.


If you're wondering if I'm sad/depressed/etc. I'm not. I've gained so much from this experience. I mean.... I'm a little resentful to the whole "love" scene but other than that I'm fine!

I need a cigarette now... this took too long!