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Ali Hallock

@alihallock

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ｂｅｙｏｕ.💗
Author of, “Beautifully Broken” & “Beautifully Unraveled”!!
•Wife •Mother •Chronic Illness Warrior

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Hello, beautiful friends & family.
It’s me, Ali! I can’t believe I made it through yesterday’s open chest surgery.
If I’m being honest… after speaking with the surgeons yesterday morning before the procedure, and going over all the risks and how he had to consult with multiile other surgeons because of the complexity of my case, I genuinely thought I might die on the operating table.
As my two surgeons sat there explaining how uncertain they were that they’d be able to chip away all the talc, and there was a possibility of bleeding out or having to be left open and packed in the ICU for a few days, I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. I called my mom sobbing saying I wish I held the kids longer, and how sorry I was she had to watch me go through this. Brian was holding one hand and my nurse was holding the other, and I thought to myself, ‘Oh my gosh, this is it. I’m going to die today on my anniversary while Brian sits alone in that surgical waiting room.’

Miraculously, when they got in there, they discovered things weren’t as talced as they were anticipating. And, barring one complication I’m still working through, the surgery went better than anyone expected! I woke up to Brian holding my hand and all I could say was, “I’m still alive. I can’t believe I made it.” And the second the words came out of my mouth, Brian started to cry. I think we were both extremely emotional and worried what yesterday’s outcome would be.

I’m happy to report, even though I’m in a lot of pain, I’m fighting through it! I’m ready to fight and get back home to my family. The doctors are staying on top of it the best they can through IV Tylenol and dilaudid, and also through a catheter that runs through the muscles in my back and side. I even stood up for the first time and moved over to a chair!!

Thank you so much for the outpouring of love and support. It has meant more to our family than you’ll ever understand.♥️♥️♥️ taken in UT Southwestern William P. Clements Jr. University Hospital by @alihallock

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5 years ago

My sister made it!!! She made it through surgery!! Her surgeon gave her some incredibly scary information this morning, which had us all beyond worried. He laid out the risks of not going through with the surgery vs the possible risks of the surgery. It was an extremely LONG day waiting for updates and we were all worried we were going to lose her today. There was one complication, which we have to wait and see if it causes any issues, but besides that it went better than expected. She’s in the Cardiovascular ICU and in a lot of pain. The doctors are working hard to control the pain. I STILL HAVE A SISTER! MY SISTER IS STILL ALIVE! Happy happy happy tears! She has a VERY long road ahead of her in recovery, but she is alive! taken in UT Southwestern William P. Clements Jr. University Hospital by @alihallock

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5 years ago

I know it’s a little scary and daunting to see, and I’m sure none of you expected this to be my reality, even with what I’ve shared here so far. So, I apologize. But, this is where I’m currently at. And I just wanted to show you my wibbly-wobbly bobble head, and let everyone know I am fighting and I am doing okay at the moment.♥️ by @alihallock

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3 years ago

The past five years have completely ripped me apart… mentally, emotionally, and physically… and then slowly taught me how to put myself back together again.

The trauma from my lung surgery and botulism is something I’m still working through, and probably always will be. The heaviness of being a critical care patient and coming so close to death still washes over me in unexpected waves, especially when I’m fighting another lung infection.

These years have left me with physical and emotional scars that changed me forever. They changed my family, too.

There were moments when I sank into the darkest depths of myself. Anxiety and depression took me places I had never been before. For a long time, I couldn’t even talk about what I had experienced without completely breaking down.

But these same five years also rebuilt me in the most heartbreakingly beautiful way.

They’ve encompassed every meaning behind Beautifully Broken and Beautifully Unraveled.

During my lung surgery, a large portion of my lung was literally removed. My surgeon took away the diseased tissue that was slowly killing me, allowing the healthier lung to re-expand into the space left behind.

Part of me had to be removed so the rest of me could have a chance to live.

Then botulism unraveled me all over again.

I was trapped inside my own body, unable to swallow my own saliva, surviving through a feeding tube and wondering if my body would ever function normally again.

But little by little, it did.

I regained what I had lost. I found my voice again. And eventually, I used that voice to help hundreds of other Botox-injured patients walking through their own terrifying journeys.

I am incredibly proud of the woman I am today.

I am beautifully broken and beautifully unraveled.

I wouldn’t wish this journey on anyone, but I’m grateful for the perspective, purpose, empathy and strength I found along the way.

I’ve been broken apart. I’ve been completely unraveled. Yet somehow, piece by piece, I became whole again.

Scarred. Changed. Still healing.

But here.

And so incredibly grateful to be alive.🫶🏼🫁🥰 by @alihallock

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5 days ago

You know what… you’re absolutely right!! I can go out and dance anytime I want now!! I really do love this vest and the freedom it has given me! Now I can dance and clear out my lungs at the same time… what a gift!!

Thank you for the inspiration… it was the motivation I needed to learn this fun new dance while listening to one of my favorite news songs from @Jamie Miller!!🫶🏼🫁 by @alihallock

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7 days ago

10 years ago, Brian and I did a very simple and private vow renewal…

Barefoot on a beach.
The sound of the ocean behind us.
Handwritten vows in our hands.
And the person I love standing in front of me.

No rules. No expectations. No one telling us what we were supposed to say or how the moment was supposed to look.

Just us.

After leaving the LDS church, Brian and I decided to give ourselves the moment we never had.

This time, they were OUR vows.

Handwritten.

Every promise. Every memory. Every piece of gratitude. Every hard season we had already walked through together. Every reason we would continue choosing one another.

We finally got to say all of the things we never got to say out loud on our wedding day.

And there was something incredibly healing about standing there, years into our marriage, knowing so much more about love than we did when we first said yes to forever.

Because these weren’t promises made by two young people imagining what marriage might be.

These were promises made by two people who already knew.

We knew what it meant to love each other through heartbreak and change. Through babies and sleepless nights. Through illness and fear. Through questioning everything we once believed. Through growing, unraveling, rebuilding, and becoming entirely new versions of ourselves.

And after all of that, we still looked at each other and said:

I choose you.

And in so many ways, those vows meant even more because we knew exactly what we were promising.

If I could go back and tell the younger version of me anything, I think I’d tell her this:

Sometimes the most beautiful parts of your story are the ones you get to rewrite for yourself.🫶🏼 by @alihallock

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7 days ago

Married him. Still crushing on him.🥰 by @alihallock

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8 days ago

🕷️SPOOKY SEASON DECOR!!🕷️

One of the kids’ friends called me a Pinterest mom, another one said our house was “juicy!” I guess I’ll take those as compliments!!🤪🤣 by @alihallock

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9 days ago

I look at these two books and have to remind myself that I actually wrote them. I did that.

They both hold so much of me.

My pain. My healing. My fear. My survival. My heartbreak. My gratitude. And, more than anything, my hope.

I’m incredibly proud of these books… not because every chapter of my story is beautiful, but because I found a way to create something beautiful from the parts that weren’t.

I can’t change the things that have happened to me. I can’t rewrite the hospital rooms, the diagnoses, the moments I was terrified I wouldn’t make it home, or the seasons when I barely recognized myself.

But I can choose what I do with them.

And writing has become one of the ways I put a little goodness back into the world.

I can take darkness and turn it into connection.
Pain and turn it into purpose.
Fear and turn it into understanding.
Survival and turn it into hope.

I can put words around experiences that someone else may be struggling to explain. I can remind another person sitting in a hospital room, living inside a body they don’t recognize, grieving the life they thought they’d have, or simply trying to make it through a really hard season that they are not alone.

And maybe that’s one of the most beautiful things we can do with the lives we’ve been given:

Take what hurt us and refuse to let the hurt be the end of the story.

Turn it into something softer. Something meaningful. Something that reaches beyond us.

These books are pieces of my heart sitting on pages, and I am so, so proud of them.

Not because I’m proud of everything I’ve been through…

but because I’m proud of what I chose to create from it.

If even one person finds connection, comfort, courage, love or hope somewhere inside these pages, then every vulnerable word was worth writing.

Beautifully Broken. Beautifully Unraveled. And somehow, through it all, still here trying to create something beautiful.🫶🏼

To anyone sitting on a manuscript, carrying a story in their heart, or wondering if they’re brave enough to put their words into the world… just start.

Somewhere out there may be someone who needs the exact words only you can write. by @alihallock

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10 days ago

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11 days ago

I can’t stop thinking about the allegations surrounding the Cornell 7.

As a woman, they make me angry. As a mother, they make me think about responsibility.

I have daughters I desperately want to be safe in this world.

And I have a son I’m responsible for sending out into it.

I can’t control every room my daughters walk into or protect them from every person they’ll meet.

But I can do everything in my power to raise a son who helps make those rooms safer.

A son who understands consent isn’t the absence of “no.” It’s a freely given “yes.”

That another person’s body is never something you’re entitled to. That intoxication or incapacitation is never an opportunity.

And when your friends cross a line, you don’t laugh, participate, look away, or protect them.

You speak up. You intervene. You become someone others feel safe with.

And I want my son to know his body and boundaries matter, too. Consent goes both ways.

These conversations start long before college. Around our kitchen tables, we talk about sex, consent, pornography, alcohol, peer pressure, boundaries, relationships, and what to do when everyone around you is making the wrong choice.

We teach our son that kindness isn’t weakness. Empathy isn’t weakness. Walking away isn’t weakness. Calling out your friends isn’t weakness.

There are women reading stories like this and remembering something that happened to them.

The night they weren’t believed.
The night they froze.
The night someone crossed a boundary they never agreed to cross.

To every woman reading these stories while remembering something that happened to her: some of us raising the next generation of boys are listening.

We’re talking to our sons.
We’re teaching consent.
We’re teaching accountability.

And to the parents raising daughters:

I’m doing my part.

I’m raising a son who I hope your daughter could call if she were scared. Who would notice when something wasn’t right. Who would stand up to his own friends.

A son who understands that being a safe man is about what you do when nobody is watching.

I can’t promise my children a world without dangerous people.

But I can help put another good man into it. by @alihallock

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12 days ago

Chronic illness and botulism have a way of repeatedly asking you to grieve versions of yourself and the life you thought you were going to have.

There have been times when I’ve felt strong and capable, only to have my health suddenly decline and find myself back in a hospital room fighting to get back to where I was. I’ve had to learn that healing isn’t always linear. Sometimes progress looks less like moving forward and more like simply continuing to show up.

Botulism brought an entirely different kind of struggle. I was fully aware as my body progressively stopped functioning, and the physical recovery was only part of what came afterward. There was also the emotional trauma… the fear, anxiety, loss of trust in my own body, and learning how to feel safe in my life again.

One of my biggest struggles has been learning not to let illness become my entire identity. When so much of your life revolves around doctors, medications, procedures, treatments, and simply staying alive, it’s easy to forget who you are outside of being a patient.

That’s why writing, advocacy, acting, and sharing my life have become so meaningful to me. They’ve helped me take ownership of my story instead of letting my circumstances write it for me. My books gave words to experiences that were difficult to explain, while advocacy connected me with people around the world fighting battles others may never see.

Through it all, my husband and children have been my greatest reminder of what I’m fighting for. The moments I treasure most now are often the ordinary ones… the laughter in our house, family nights, sitting beside my husband, watching my kids grow and do everything they love, and simply being here for another day I once wasn’t guaranteed.

I still live with chronic illness. There are still difficult days, scary test results, procedures, setbacks, and uncertainty. My story didn’t end with a perfectly wrapped-up version of recovery.

But maybe that’s one of the greatest things this life has taught me:

You don’t have to wait for life to become easy before you allow yourself to love it.🫶🏼 by @alihallock

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12 days ago