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Kim's Blogs

My Inner Chick’s Winning Submission!


—We chose a winner!


My Inner Chick’s team read and savored 74 submissions for our 2nd annual writing contest.


We valued and appreciated your raw words, honesty, authenticity, pain, and sharing your real-life, unbelievable, amazing stories with us.


What an honor to read all of them.


Thank you!


In particular, one story by Reut Amit, He Never Hit Me, caused us to rise up from our seats and yell:


      “That’s the one!”


Without further ado, here it is.


Congrats, Reut!

Image by Rebel Society/BigStock Sad/Scared

Image by Rebel Society/BigStock Sad/Scared

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Kim's Blogs

Winning Submission for My Inner Chick



We need writers who fear nothing ― Yevgeny Zamyatin



The submissions for “I RISE” were numerous and beautiful and transformative.  Thank You.  Thank you for your words, your hearts,  your souls,  your blood.  By sharing your stories,  you give others permission to share their stories.   I believe this with my entire being.  If you’re wondering what your purpose on earth is,  perhaps it is telling your stories to the world,  darlings.

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In Memory of Kay

Letter to her Executioner

s blog is dedicated to every woman who stays… because she thinks she can change an abusive man.)

~~~~One of the most horrific tasks after my sister, Kay’s, murder has been going through her possessions: her clothing still drenched in perfume and hairspray, the endless tubes of pink lipstick, and her innumerable journals, which are so staggeringly personal and heartrending that my heart breaks wide open every time I read her sentences. I want to turn back time. I want to see her. I want to wrap my arms around her and scream;


Leave the Son-of-a-Bitch!

She tried, but he always begged her back.

You see, Kay’s greatest gift was her immense compassion for others, her ability to love, love, love even if the love was not returned.

After all, this is the reason she stayed with her soon to be ex for thirty long years; this is the reason she tried to make the marriage work; this is the reason she allowed him to control her, manipulate her, intimidate her, minimize her, diminish her…

And in the end…Execute her.

She stayed. She stayed. She fucking stayed.

Not only did our family sort through Kay’s belongings over the last three months, but we were forced to sort through his belongings, as well.

Here is a letter I found stuffed underneath his military t-shirts dated January, 9, 2010.


My Dear Mike,

How I wish I had been able to talk face to face to you about what I’m about to do. First off, I want you to know I do love you…but not in a way a wife should love her husband. I tried. I tried to talk to you, to communicate so many times, but now it’s just too late. I wish, I really wish our marriage could have worked out. But I simply can not cut through all of the walls that have been put up.

I don’t have the strength anymore.

I will not do it anymore.

I cannot pretend anymore.

My heart breaks as I write this, but you will not listen to me. I want you to know that I’m not doing this because I don’t care. I’m doing it because I do care. I deserve more. And you deserve somebody who will knock your socks off. You have so many good qualities…so much to offer.

I want you to be happy, Mike. I realize this is going to be very hard for you, but time will heal your heart. I promise you that.

I want to write down the many attributes you have that I admire: You are a great provider. You always have been. And you have an eye for detail. You are a wonderful leader. You are kind hearted and handsome. So much more…

You might be wondering why I am divorcing you if you have all of these qualities. It is because we tend to bring the worst out in one another…and I can’t do it anymore.

I will not do it anymore.

When I married you the second time, I was in it for life, for life. I meant those vows. But after 8 months, you went back to the way you were before. You shut down. You crushed my spirit. And I am lonely. I am so very lonely. Even when we are together. And I shouldn’t feel that way.

. Please don’t be angry. I beg you, please don’t be angry with me.

I will always hold you in my heart. Always. You are dear to me and I will never forget all of our good times together.

Love to you, K. Marie


Five months after this letter was dated, the executioner walked up behind my sister as she was opening the front door,and shot her in the back of the right side of her head. When she fell, he shot her two more times on the left side of her head. He then clung his arms around her and shot himself in the right temple.

They called it a “Murder/Suicide” in the paper.

I call it “The Darkest Day of My Life.”

She was a Mother

A daugher (kay with our daddy)

A beauty
My Best Friend.