THE CHRONICLES OF A KENNEDY

You Don't Have to Save the World, Just Yourself

Why I Am Telling This Story

I didn't decide to write this book because I think my life is perfect.

I decided to write it because my children deserve to know the story of their family from my perspective.

Someday, when they are old enough to understand everything that happened, I want them to have something they can hold in their hands and read for themselves.

I want them to know where we came from.

I want them to know who their parents were before everything became complicated.

I want them to know what our family was like when they were little.

I want them to know the good parts too.

There were good parts.

There was love.

There were birthdays, holidays, vacations, family gatherings, inside jokes, ordinary days, and moments that I will always treasure.

There were also things that hurt.

There were things that I didn't understand at the time.

There were things I tolerated that I shouldn't have.

There were things I did that I regret.

There were things Jon did that changed my life.

And there were years when I felt like I was constantly being told that what I remembered wasn't what actually happened.

That is one of the reasons I am writing this.

I want to tell my story before someone else tells it for me.

For years, I felt like I was being gaslighted into questioning my own memory, my own judgment, and sometimes even my own sanity.

I was told versions of events that didn't match what I remembered experiencing.

I was blamed for things I didn't believe were my fault.

I was hurt, emotionally and physically, and I kept trying to make sense of it.

Eventually, I began to understand that writing everything down could help me separate what I remember from what other people said happened.

That's why this book is not going to pretend that every allegation is a fact.

There is a difference between what I personally experienced, what someone accused another person of doing, what a police report says, what an attorney claimed, what appears in a court filing, and what a judge or jury actually decided.

I intend to preserve those differences.

Some things in this book are my memories.

Some are supported by documents.

Some are allegations that were made against me or other people.

Some cases were dismissed.

Some allegations were never proven in court.

And some matters resulted in actual convictions.

I want my children to be able to see those differences for themselves.

I also want to clear my name.

There is currently a pending Iowa matter involving allegations that I possessed drugs that I maintain were not mine. I believe I was set up or framed in connection with those drugs, and I am still dealing with the consequences of that situation, including a pending warrant in northern Iowa.

I am not writing this book because I believe a book can replace a courtroom.

It can't.

The court system has its own rules, evidence, procedures, and standards.

But I also believe that telling the complete story matters.

I want to understand how I ended up in this position.

I want to understand what happened to my family.

I want to understand what happened in Iowa.

I want to understand the documents, the accusations, the police reports, the court cases, the warrants, the dismissed charges, and everything else that became part of our lives.

Most of all, I want justice.

Not revenge.

Justice.

I want the truth about what happened to me to matter.

I want the years of abuse, manipulation, and gaslighting I experienced to be understood in their proper context.

I want the circumstances surrounding the allegations against me to be examined instead of simply accepting someone else's version of events.

And I want to find a way forward.

My ultimate hope is that I can resolve the pending Iowa matter, clear my name, rebuild my life, and someday have the opportunity to regain guardianship of my children.

That is one of the hardest things for me to write.

Because underneath every court case, every police report, every warrant, every accusation, and every argument is something much more important to me.

My children.

I don't want them to grow up believing that their mother simply disappeared from their lives because she didn't care.

I want them to know that I cared.

I fought.

I made mistakes.

I survived things.

I kept trying.

And even when I didn't know what to do next, I never stopped wanting to find my way back to them.

This book is not an attempt to make myself the hero.

I'm not.

I've made mistakes.

I've made decisions I wish I could take back.

I've reacted badly to situations.

I've said things I shouldn't have said.

I've done things I'm not proud of.

I'm willing to tell the truth about those things too.

Because if I'm asking my children to believe me when I tell them about the things that happened to me, then I have to be honest about the things that happened because of me.

This isn't about creating a perfect version of myself.

It's about creating an honest record.

A record my children can read someday and say:

This is what Mom remembers.

This is what the documents show.

This is what was alleged.

This is what was actually decided.

And maybe, when they are old enough to understand everything, they'll finally understand why I spent so many years trying to find my way through it all.

I don't know exactly where this story ends yet.

I'm still living part of it.

But I know where I want it to go.

I want my name cleared.

I want justice.

I want relief from the weight of everything that has happened.

I want my children to know the truth as I experienced it.

And I want my life back.

For years, I thought my job was to save everyone else.

Now I'm learning that sometimes the person you have to save is yourself.