Born in 1997, I am Sonya’s second-born son.Sonya was only 23 years old and my father 21 when I was born. Growing up with Sonya as a parent was not easy; by age six, I knew something was very wrong. Extensive, elaborate lies were told to us on a daily basis. We were forced to hide in our own home, relay those lies to others, and even have lies told about us. I felt constant humiliation and embarrassment—and I assume my brother did as well.Substance abuse was a consistent problem for Sonya. There was a severe lack of food for us, yet always plenty of marijuana and fresh milk for her. By 2003, my father had fled the country in fear of Sonya and in hope of a better life. Custody battles and allegations of physical assault, sexual assault, and murder had broken him. My father is a very flawed man—a weak man—but he was not an abusive man.I have since experienced the same hurdles and blockades my father faced, which many other males in New Zealand encounter regarding law enforcement, the legal system, and organisations like Child, Youth and Family (now Oranga Tamariki—Ministry for Children). In these systems, storytelling often becomes more important than facts.From as young as four years old, I remember Sonya manipulating situations to turn us against people. For instance, she would have my brother and me pack backpacks to be picked up by my father, making us wait by the front window for long periods. In reality, my father was never told or offered the chance to spend the day with us; we were set up for disappointment to begin the process of turning us against him. At that age, we were also told my brother’s father, John, had been killed in a forestry accident. In truth, he had survived the accident but was severely injured, requiring a leg amputation that left him wheelchair-bound for life. It wasn’t until 2003, while living in Christchurch, that this lie was corrected and we were able to visit him. Sonya warned us not to tell my own father that John was still alive, claiming John might be “bashed” by him. John later “died” again, as detailed in the post “The 12-Year Ghost: The Mother Who Faked a Father’s Death,” before his actual passing in 2021.As children, not much was off-limits. Drug addicts would stay with us, and marijuana was grown at the family home. Movie nights included films such as Monster, Once Were Warriors, and Escape from Sobibor. I recall one time our babysitter, Mary, took us to a stranger’s house and told us to wait in the lounge. A long while later, Sonya arrived to pick us up; Mary, who struggled with addiction, had relapsed and asked Sonya to get us before she passed out in the other room. Another babysitter Sonya chose for us was a known child molester. As an adult, I struggle to comprehend why anyone would put children in such dangerous situations.During 2013 in Alexandra, Sonya’s debts to friends and businesses were mounting. Her bizarre stories and claims of terminal illness (not to be confused with her 2006 cancer claim) were starting to unravel. She wanted to return to Dunedin after 11 years of moving around the lower South Island. I saw my chance to get out, and I took it.At age 15, while still in school, I remained in Alexandra alone. Outside of school hours, I worked two jobs at Henry’s BWS and Kiwi Undercar Ltd. With great difficulty, I was approved for the Independent Youth Benefit. At age 17, I signed a lease on my own rental property and continued supporting myself while completing Year 12 (NCEA Level 2) at Dunstan High School. Once finished, I relocated to Invercargill to begin full-time employment.In late 2015 or early 2016, my brother, a third party, and I all took a day off work to travel to Dunedin to meet with CYF. Our concern was the safety of my younger sister under Sonya’s care, given the beatings we were subjected to as children and the dangerous situations she put us in. We pleaded with the authorities not to warn Sonya of their planned house visit, as it would give her time to clean the home and prepare an emotional display.Our plea was in vain. Sonya was warned, the visit was conducted, and her performance was flawless. To her credit, Sonya is an undisputed master of deception and manipulation. CYF promptly concluded the matter, phoning me to say—to paraphrase—that we were “bad kids” for creating such allegations against our “sick mother.” This was a devastating blow and a realisation that, in these systems, facts often matter less than how creative and emotional one can be when storytelling.Since excommunicating myself from Sonya, I have maintained consistent full-time employment from the age of 17 (having worked part-time since 15). I purchased my first home at 23 and an investment property at 27. Before leaving the country in 2024, I was a dedicated member of the Otago Rowing Club, a board member for the Cargill’s Castle Trust, and the founder and president of the Southside JDM Car Club. I immersed myself in the community, sponsored children through Variety, and volunteered my time with IHC.During my time in Sonya’s life (pre-2016), she was never involved in her community. She was unemployed for years at a time, had no social circle, and was a frequent user of cannabis, synthetic cannabis, and nitrous oxide. She would lie to, cheat, and steal from friends, family, and the government. Sonya has never acquired a full driver’s licence or owned a home.

I have not seen or spoken to Sonya since 2015.

Sincerely

Sonya’s son

Tj Woodrow