Savage Daughter Arise

Hired At The DOD Dog Center: A Mother's Fight For Safety, Stability & Truth

Today’s episode comes from my post titled Hired at the U.S. Army DOD Dog Center: A Mother’s Fight for Safety, Stability, and Truth. This is where it began for me — when I accepted the job I had worked years to earn, caring for military working dogs at the Department of Defense Dog Center in San Antonio. At the time, I believed I had finally reached stability — that I could provide for my daughter and build the kind of life I had long fought for. I didn’t yet know how much would be taken, or how quickly everything I depended on would begin to unravel. This is my account of how a dream job turned into a battle I never saw coming. This part of my story began with hope. I wanted stability, a place where I could use my skills, provide for my daughter, and build a life that finally felt steady. I didn’t expect that the same place offering opportunity would also become the one that tested every part of me. I learned that harm doesn’t always come from strangers. Sometimes it comes from the people you’re told to trust, from the same system that claims to protect you. And once it begins, there’s no clear moment when it turns from a job into a fight to hold on to your name, your work, or your sense of self. I stayed because I believed in what I was doing. I stayed because walking away felt like failure. But every decision, every report, every meeting began to show me that the rules weren’t the same for everyone. Some people were protected no matter what they did. Others—like me—were watched, questioned, and pushed out quietly. When I look back, I see how much I tried to make sense of it, how much I wanted to believe it was just a misunderstanding or a matter of time before someone would see what was happening. That never came. This chapter is where the story begins to turn. It’s where I start to understand what it means to stand alone inside a system that refuses to admit what it’s done.

From Human Resources To The Pulpit: The Irony of Power & Retaliation

A firsthand account of workplace retaliation, false investigations, and the moral contradictions that followed. In this episode, I recount how my attempt to seek protection under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 led to retaliation from within the very system that was supposed to safeguard me. What began as a report of harassment by my military supervisor was redirected into an investigation against me—an act of reprisal carried out by the Human Resources department at Professional Performance Development Group. I share how that betrayal unfolded, how false documentation was used to justify my termination, and how the woman who oversaw this retaliation later became a deacon in her church. The irony of her title stands in sharp contrast to the harm she helped inflict under her professional authority. You’ll also hear the verbatim reading of the unsigned, undated memo that was quietly added to my personnel file—an “unofficial” record that revealed how far they were willing to go to protect themselves at my expense. This episode explores the collision between faith, image, and wrongdoing—and the long shadow left by those who use positions of trust to harm others.

This Is My Story

In this episode, I share the beginning of what would become a long, traumatic stretch of abuse, retaliation, and institutional betrayal—starting with my role as a civilian veterinary technician assigned to a U.S. military base. What I describe here is not vague or up for interpretation. It wasn’t inappropriate behavior disguised as humor. It wasn’t workplace tension. It was abuse. My supervisor used his position of authority to sexually violate me, and when I resisted, he retaliated. What happened wasn’t isolated or hidden. It happened in plain view of an institution that refused to act, and it was made worse by the silence and deflection of the leadership that should have protected me. This recording is not a retelling for shock. It is a clear account of how abuse takes root inside professional environments that are supposed to be structured and accountable—but aren’t. It’s also an honest look at how harm often begins gradually, under the surface, and how the early warning signs are dismissed until the damage is undeniable. This story matters because somewhere, someone else is in the early stages of a very similar situation. They’re being made to feel uncertain, isolated, or overreactive. They’re being watched, coerced, or discredited for simply trying to stay safe. They haven’t spoken yet—or maybe they’ve tried to—but no one has listened. I’m publishing this because I remember that place. Listener discretion is advised due to descriptions of sexual misconduct and institutional retaliation.

What Reporting Abuse Did To Me

In this first episode, I talk about why I’m telling my story, why I created this space, and what I hope it offers to anyone who’s ever felt disbelieved or punished for telling the truth. "I spent years trying to comprehend why honesty can cost someone everything, why staying true to one's values and standing up for what's right can lead to such considerable and personal sacrifices. It took even longer to understand why, in this world, those who have the courage to speak against injustices often face penalties. Meanwhile, those who perpetrate harm, whether by action or silence, are frequently protected, promoted, or simply ignored. I never anticipated that quietly reporting abuse through what I believed to be the appropriate and responsible channels would result not only in the loss of my job but also in the slow, painful unraveling of the very life I had worked so earnestly and tirelessly to build. Yet, that was exactly how it unfolded. I'm not here to retell the events of my life to garner sympathy or incite pity, and this isn't a dramatic performance meant to capture attention for the sake of entertainment. I'm here because what happened to me is neither uncommon nor remarkable. It's something that happens every day, to countless individuals, often behind closed doors and under the enduring protection of systems that were never truly designed to defend people like me. Institutions and organizations frequently, and often quite vocally, proclaim values of justice, fairness, and accountability, yet their practices tell a different story. However, when those values are put to the test, when an individual like myself steps forward to declare that an injustice has occurred and it is unacceptable, those very institutions tend to close ranks. They rally around to protect the abuser, safeguard their image, and preserve their power at all costs. My story wasn't isolated or in a vacuum. It happened in the organized and rigid halls of the military, within the complex and often carefully planned spaces of HR offices and federal agencies. These are places where the burden of proof was consistently and overwhelmingly placed upon me, rather than on those who had inflicted harm upon me. In each of these places, I was expected to stay quiet, to tolerate injustices silently, to nod in agreement even when my heart screamed otherwise. But silence is complicity. Silence slowly drains the spirit. It's the oppressive expectation to ignore my own pain in exchange for the comfort of others. Welcome to my podcast, Savage Daughter Arise. My name is Michelle Jubinal. This space isn't about pursuing perfection, its not a guide for recovery, or a quest for neat resolutions. Instead, it's a raw, honest exploration of truth, a refusal to be complicit in my own silence, and a call to action for those who want to reclaim their voice in a world that too often demands our silence. I launched this podcast because, for too long, the truth was left unspoken, collecting dust and fading into obscurity in the neglected corners of my life, hidden behind layers of fear and deeply ingrained shame. There were countless thoughts and experiences I once felt too afraid or too ashamed to voice aloud. These unspoken truths weren't silenced because they lacked merit; they were quietly stifled by a naive conditioning that led me to believe the truth inherently mattered and that it would find a way to breakthrough the barriers and resonate with those who needed to hear it. Sadly I came to understand the harsh reality that truth, far from being celebrated and cherished, is often unwanted and deemed irrelevant by the very structures designed to uphold it. This podcast isn't about seeking closure or tying up loose ends with neat, comforting conclusions. Nor is it about celebrating triumphs with a sense of retrospective satisfaction, as if battles won could erase the scars left by the conflicts endured."