It’s been nearly a year, and I’m finally ready to break my silence about what really happened with Christopher Allan Macdonald—and how he and his family shamelessly used me, discarded me, and never once acknowledged the things I did for them, including the expensive epoxy resin art pieces and brooches I crafted with my own two hands.

Let’s start at the beginning.
Christopher and I technically first crossed paths when I was just seven years old in a soccer program at Stonehurst Park in the Sunland-Tujunga area.
But fate would bring us together years later through Facebook Dating (yes, Facebook now has a dating app—who would’ve thought something so modern would lead me to someone so heartless?).

Here’s what people don’t know:
Christopher stole a cell phone from my mother. He never returned it. He also did something I still struggle to forgive myself for witnessing—he killed my turkey, Zoey.
One day he hit her, and the next day she couldn’t walk. Shortly after, she died. My heart broke that day, but I stayed, trying to hold everything together.

When Christopher’s grandmother—his mother’s mother—passed away from health complications, I felt for their family. Truly. I was there for them, I supported them. That woman had a dog named Lucy, a severely obese Labrador she had rescued from a puppy mill. Lucy was over 80 pounds overweight, anxious, grieving, and completely neglected after the grandmother’s death.
The grandfather—the man who once called Lucy family—was ready to dump her at a shelter because he didn’t want to deal with her.
My ex’s mother called me, practically begging me to take Lucy in. I said yes, on the condition they help cover her food—just $80 a month—and I’d work to place her with a rescue I trusted: Hank’s Legacy Foundation.

But three months later, that small gesture was apparently too much for them. His mother didn’t want to keep paying. She didn’t understand the time, money, and emotional labor that goes into animal rescue. She just wanted her problem gone. She complained so much, my own mother told her to stop paying, just to end the constant whining.

While I was sacrificing my time, energy, and money—doing everything I could for their family, their dog—his mother was pressuring me to get pregnant.
Yes. Every time I went to the doctor, she openly admitted she hoped I was pregnant. I couldn’t even think about pregnancy with the level of stress her son was putting me through.

The truth?
They used me. They manipulated my kindness. They conned not just me, but my mother too.
They never once asked about Lucy again—the dog that belonged to their family.
The dog I saved.
The dog I poured my heart into.
The dog they discarded like trash.

Where’s Lucy now? She’s thriving.
She’s living in the Hollywood Hills and Hawaii, surrounded by love and luxury. She’s finally living the life she always deserved.

And where are they?
Christopher is in Wisconsin. His mother is in Texas.
Out of sight, out of accountability.
That’s who they are.

They took. They used. They forgot.
But I will never forget.