Smile though…

Smile though your heart is aching…

Some days it is so much easier to do this than others. Some days you go to bed at 6pm only to wake up the next day and want to stay in bed. You get out of bed and climb back in. You read some blog posts of another. And then you kick your ass back out of bed…

Is it not taking my anti-anxiety medication, medication I did not require before the narcissist? Is it that I am just genuinely exhausted because I have no effing breaks from this life? Is it also that I have spent the last couple of days reading the blog of someone else and wishing that I had known that kind of love and loyalty just once in my forty two years? Is it that I read a blog post of October 2015 and remember how I interpreted it then and then laugh at myself? Whatever the fuck it is, these last two days have been a struggle!

Is writing this stuff down healing? Or does it just take me to that dark place, I cannot afford to go?

I look for quotes on Pinterest to find inspiration and I read what I know should resonate but it just reads as blah, blah, blah…

I think it’s partly Christmas approaching and as much as I will always believe in the magic of Christmas it terrifies me this year…

I will have to force myself to the gym tonight…show up for myself and kick the shit out of things for a bit…

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=BP5Fft2Yt3Y

Emergency contact

They say “bad luck, comes in threes”. I’m not sure I believe in luck when other people’s free will exists.

Last week, bullies were suspended from school for having cyber bullied one of my girls. I found out I need a tooth extracted due to a root fracture from dental work. Woke up Saturday morning to my car keyed and then picked up a huge nail in my brand new winter tire. The worst of this for me is managing the “fixes”. Without back up, these tasks feel monumental, I’m exhausted just thinking about it. I’m barely functioning on an average day. This is still better than living under a twisted, dictatorship regime.

Yesterday, I had a dental surgery consultation. Like most new medical scenarios, I had to fill out a questionnaire. Without intention, the form takes me to that place I avoid at all costs after the narcissist.

“Do you live alone?” Checked yes and instantly started feeling the pity party kickstart. My thoughts are “Is there free counselling to deal with having to answer yes to this? Great, now I feel like shit.” Worse was leaving the Emergency Contact information blank.

No emergency contact…that’s a terrific feeling. If I really wanted to, I could put my 70 year old Dad who cares for my mother 24/7 as she suffers with emphysema down…. I could text my best friend who lives on the other side of the city and ask to use her name… There are probably a handful of people who would accept the request. The Aries in me or the hurt inside me, stubbornly has me leaving it blank. Some kind of damaged human rebellion. I think about that blank space most of the day in between filing police reports and bringing baked goods to the guys who replaced my tire on Saturday.

While I’m working and in between phone calls from the firefighter who is being supportive after so much chaos in the last several days, I’m reflecting on the blank space. I’m reflecting on how I heal and not focus on that blank space?

My best friend is texting me about bringing baked goods to the tire guy calling it a “baking date”. This has me genuinely rolling my eyes. She is trying to play matchmaker and I’m not sure why? I explain to her that the thought of a date makes me physically ill. Flirtations cause the kind of eye rolling that one might only expect from an adolescent.

There’s a piece of my heart that hopes that some day the emergency contact information will not be blank. At the same time, I cannot imagine opening my heart and soul to someone. Love has become like Santa Claus or the tooth fairy to me. Something that seemed magical in my youth, capitalized on by Hollywood and Hallmark. Not real, not magical… I no longer subscribe to its “magic”.

I’m Googling dating after anarcissist, it all leads to dating yourself, selfcare and not using a man as a band aid. I come across a blog that tells me that this dating thing I’m doing with the firefighter is wrong.

“And she was way past male hook-ups, interactions and attention to simply fill the gaps until “someone better” came along.”

When Is It Safe To Date After Narcissistic Abuse? Part 1

I go to a staff Christmas get together and a colleague makes a point to introduce himself. Throwing in at some point that he is a single dad. This wee comment initiates profuse sweating for me. Fight or flight. In my world flirtation and acts of war are equivalent right now. Everyone in my section thinks it’s cute, “I’m rooting for this…” the women giggle. The guys from my pod, playfully tease me. I just keep saying how much sweat was happening.

I’m still happy, joking, silver lining Krista but I’m broken. Repair will be slow and cumulative….

m

It’s just a squirrel…

Trauma. It comes in various forms. I have had a decade’s worth of emotional traumas. Very real situations with very profound impacts. The last of the experiences leaving me with a degree of PTSD.

I experience triggers which cause flashbacks beyond my control to play like movies on extreme fast forward in my mind and leaving me bewildered. I was going along fine in my day and then bam I’m reminded of “it”. My children have these experiences too which come in the form of “Hey, remember that time that ___ “.

Then there are the moments that I go through like a simple hang out at the firefighter’s house and discover that a friend is joining us for drinks. This sends my fight or flight instinct into high gear. The hamster starts running on that wheel overanalyzing the situation. Does this mean we are defining something? Panic mode… I’m frustrated with this reaction and terrified that this is the new me. The person who doesn’t trust; who no longer believes in love and romance… The person who wants to run.

Of course, I address the triggers and this reaction to simply meeting a friend in counselling. Again, we confirm that his was not a normal break up and that I am in recovery from an abusive and angry person. This is to be expected.

We explore my reaction to meeting the friend for a bit. My therapist explains that the two of us faced with the same situation will perceive it differently. She exists in a general state of calm most of the time. I spent almost a year in a constant state of fight or flight. It takes the body and brain time to get back in to a general and consistent state of calm. She describes a scenario of us both walking through the woods. We hear a cracking, crashing sound in close proximity. Her reaction will most likely be “Squirrel” and she will carry on like nothing is happening. I on the other hand, in my current state, will hear the same noise and assume Godzilla is coming to get us. I will go into fight or flight mode – mostly flight mode. I will assume there is a need to run for our lives.

Most of life’s noise is the squirrel. Things we shrug off, that don’t require a second thought. A person who cuts us off in traffic, a colleague who compliments our outfit, a grumpy teenager, meeting a new person…

Meeting a guy’s friend is a squirrel too. It doesn’t define anything, it was a pretty enjoyable couple of hours, sitting in the kitchen while the boys had bevvies and I drank club soda. Two normal gents, refreshing…

Still Godzilla…the thought of a defined relationship and also the thought that three months from now I cannot be sitting around that kitchen island without direction… Godzilla is quite the mystifying beast…

Godzilla also takes the form of being this single mom again, now a version with no breaks as my children are distancing themselves from their father, it’s hard to watch. Godzilla is fear, heartache and fatigue.

Re-construction


Gone are the days when I thought that a significant other is what I needed to define my life as successful and whole. I recognize that I idealized an outcome, I played rescuer, caretaker and defender of my character for the sake of an outcome I wanted. I had it all wrong. 

Narcissist, borderline personality, sociopath, Narcissist – there’s the pattern. Twenty years of my life spent in toxicity being degraded, disrespected, devalued and ultimately systematically deconstructed. 

I think the last Narcissist was the worst in that I really allowed myself to believe in growing old with someone again and for the first time I allowed myself to completely be me again. I was vulnerable, totally vulnerable. As much as I revealed myself, so too I lost myself over the 330 days that played out under the narcissist’s agenda. 

“Why do I keep finding these people?” I ask my therapist. 

“It’s not about why you find them or how they find you, it’s about why you keep them around? Why you become dependent on them?” she responds. 

I don’t believe in happy endings right now. I don’t trust that my person, the one I deserve is out there.  I don’t trust in “love” and romance. 

My therapist’s response to that is that he is out there, you just need to know how to weed through the unhealthy ones to get to him. We are going to get you there. This does not breed optimism for me but I trust her and I will follow her lead. 

The scariest part of the conversation was “healing requires time but the only way to fully heal will be to apply what we learn about what you want and need in an actual relationship.” 

Firefighter – still in the picture. My analysis paralysis got the best of me. It is not as sleazy and valueless as I assessed it to be. There’s more talking than there is tawdry. We share motivational videos. I share ten years of divorce wisdom. He reminds me that I am wise and my heart isn’t complete stone. He reminds me that I cannot be a rescuer or caretaker; I have healing to do. He reminds me that a good strong hug is nice. When he keeps me company via text as I make my way home from a west end Heart and Crown, he shows me that some guy’s actions do match their words. I’m grateful for that. Feel no feelings still applies. It needs to. Our paths have crossed for a reason, we will allow the universe to show us what it is. I think we are simply lamp posts… 

October 2015, is the last time I went to that west end pub. Like a giddy school girl, I awaited the entrance of a dashing gentleman with butterflies and nerves. A hug had me believing in magic and my girlfriends questioning exactly what I was drinking. “It’s just a hug! Calm down weirdo.” There was the charismatic gem who disappeared into the night. 

Self-Care after the Narcissist:

My therapist has labeled the last nightmare a Narcissist. Of course, I Google and return to my therapist wondering if I am a narcissist. She assured me it’s not the case. I came across a helpful article that tells me it’s not uncommon to feel this way in the aftermath. 

https://blog.melanietoniaevans.com/am-i-the-narcissist/
So, therapy is one way I am working towards healing. Kickboxing is another. A six week weight loss challenge is helping get me back on a healthy track and keeping me focussed in the now. I stop and savour moments in my home that strike me. Like, all of my children in gathered in my bedroom giggling, FaceTiming friends on my bed which has me laughing. Time with friends. Finding artistic ideas to endeavour in soon. A lot of self-help reading. A LOT. Loving Mel Robbins’ 5 Second Rule. 

I reflect on what I think is important in a significant other. If I think of it as a traditional personal ad, so far it includes:

-Must have friends. Must spend time regularly with said friends. Must have compassion and empathy for others. Must be handy. Must be honest. Must not have interest in Craig’s List for any reason but particularly the sexually deviant sexual sections. Must be authentic – don’t refer to me as “Beautiful” and then “Hey, beautiful or Hey, gorgeous” every other woman on the planet. Must keep opinions or suggestions about how to parent to themselves. 

That’s all I’ve got right now. 

I love music. I think music speaks to us and whatever we are going through at any given time. I tend to latch on to one or two lyrics in a song that resonate with me. 

Silence by Marshmello ft. Khalid. “I found peace in your 

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=tk36ovCMsU8

Coasting….

Therapy is a good thing. At this point, I wish I could go every day.

Me: I’m tired.

Therapist: Of course you are! This is more than a breakup. Real damage was done. I’m okay with you coasting right now as long as you are the wind behind your sails. No self destruction.

This:

Good morning,

So, I’m on a bus trying to keep my composure. 

Here’s the deal as my therapist just framed it 

“I have been through more than a break up with Chris.” I lived in Hell with him. In only a year he managed to do a lot of damage. Serious damage. He is a seriously unwell, harmful man.

It being only three months since things ended, I’m learning a few things:

1. Much healing needs to be done.

2. I have zero self-esteem/self love right now. I do not respect myself. 

3. I need to work on myself. 

4. I need to help my children heal. Feel stable again. 

5. I’m not ready to deal with someone else’s feelings. 

I haven’t liked myself much in putting myself in a FWB situation. I have continued to do it because I know you are emotionally unavailable and therefore in some ways not a threat to my heart. 

I’m sorry that we met under these circumstances. I know I am not this slutty kind of girl and I regret that I’ve allowed you to see me in this light. I have not respected myself or been true to my values. I own this. This has all been my choice.  

Besides, I’m sure there are way more exciting FWBs out there at this point.

So, I’m going to take some distance and work on myself. This is not healthy for me or you. 

Take care – you’re on the right track to healing – keep going. 💕

Tears…

Feel no feelings

This little mantra was offered to me at my last hair appointment as the topic of some of us women being too nice, too understanding, too caretaking aka codependent doormats of sorts was being discussed. Instead of attracting wonderful human beings into our lives, we attract the toxic and narcissistic. Why? Because we are so accommodating as to forgive peoples flaws to the point of not recognizing ourselves and our own needs. 

It’s okay to be a caretaker, it’s certainly necessary to be nice in this life. It is, however, not our responsibility to take on other people’s problems, needs, wants while losing ourselves in the process. To this I said “Why can’t I just be a hard ass?” Enter the mantra “Feel no feelings”. 

I don’t know how much I can actually subscribe to such a statement. It’s the polar opposite of how I’ve existed my entire life. 

I think it is more a matter of being the nice girl with boundaries. Knowing when to say no, knowing how to be there for people without actually taking on their life too. Finding compassion without becoming codependent. If we have to become someone else to be loved by another then we are with the wrong person. 

I don’t want to feel no feelings. I want to experience the joy in my kids, friends and colleagues. When it comes to the opposite sex, I’m not in a place to have feelings right now.  My heart just won’t allow it. In that regard, I’m out of commission. So I can heal, I guess and it seems to be out of my control at this point. I just can’t… Flowers, flash mobs or a scene from Say Anything will leave me indifferent… I haven’t been here before. Apathy towards romantic gestures. I haven’t figured out what that means yet or how that changes. 

I followed the advice of a friend who’s way less doormat – like than me. Went on Bumble to find, I don’t know what… Turns out Bumble is Tinder… Is this where it’s at? I have to resort to becoming Tinder trash?

I swipe right on a firefighter. I’m not impressed by this because I know all too well the uniform doesn’t make the man. My ex-husband is a firefighter. I swipe right because there’s an endearing smile there and I’m willing to test if I can be “that girl”. Why? Apathy. I don’t have to care – it’s the underlying premise of a meat market right? To not care and just be basic. Ugh.

“What are you looking for on here?” I ask.  “Friends with benefits, I guess, see what happens?” says the firefighter. Okay – let’s do this. My friends are like KayKay this is not you. Are you sure you can handle this? Of course, I can, I’m numb – I truly don’t care, about as much as this guy probably doesn’t care either. I try to convince them and myself that I can be this person. I lie to them and lie to myself. 

I’m going in to this carrying an extra 20+ lbs that messes with my head daily.  I want to just go hardcore on the workouts and running but I have a disc that’s ready to explode if I afford it the conditions to do that. So, when I push, it bitch slaps me back to reality and slows me down. Ten of these miserable pounds I want to lose are directly related to that disc. It took running from me and paved the way to a silent suffering and depression which lead me to good old friends: wine and jujubes. I ate my feelings because I’m KayKay. I don’t whine. I put on a brave face – so as not to bring other people down or make them worry. Instead, I eat my emotions. This time forgetting that I don’t have exercise to counteract the garbage going into my pie hole. Poof 15 lbs which I scaled back for Mexico 2017.   

After Mexico, brought a toxic home life that fired up my anxiety to the point where I entered work with some low level PTSD. Trembling and consumed by confusion and self doubt. I can’t destroy these feelings through exercises and they’re exhausting me. I turn to food.

So, I’m entering this FWB situation not loving myself too much which kind of takes away from the whole sexy experience it’s supposed to be…

Not to mention firefighter is a big teddy bear who is still not over his ex. I spend a lot of my time playing therapist. Fine but that’s where the codependent begins. I’m trying to heal myself right now, I can’t afford to take this on…

I realize last night as I’m playing therapist again. That I choose to cross boundaries for this person and keep others at bay because this guy is not available. He is no threat to me. And so this morning, I recognize that I need to distance myself from that… Soon…

I realize I’m now going to therapy tomorrow not to deal with all the disastrous relationships I’ve experienced and the why. I’m going to find out how to love myself, I’m not sure I ever truly have…

The ugly truth…

May 2017

This post was prompted by an argument that occurred between my teenage son and ex-husband. I was thrown under the bus so my ex could save face. My ex has told his new wife, friends, and town of Shawville a selective version of our divorce. 

Most of the time I don’t care what his version is. However, when selected pieces are fed to my children to undermine my relationship and somehow make me less in their eyes. I will not be silent. 

When after 10 years, someone can’t be “friends” with me because I’m the “ex”. That’s an unpleasant reminder of the other side’s smear campaign and lack of accountability for two things:

1. The reason for the divorce (irrelevant to all). 

2. The relationship fostered with the children by their father and stepmother. 

I have struggled with whether to post the thoughts that follow but recent events with my oldest child lead me to want to speak a little of my truth. I may lose “friends” in posting this, most will just scroll over it. That’s okay – I understand. I had a wee heart to heart with someone recently who said “The bubbly Krista who helped me through rough times hasn’t been around for a couple of months.” Probably the biggest proponent of that is the fact that my children, are children of divorce and it has impacted them. Affected them – they need some repair and perspective. After 10 years of divorce, it is still unhealthy. My son was recently burdened by an untruth about why our marriage ended and it provoked him to question my integrity and loyalty as his mother. It burdened him with unnecessary information and inaccurate information. It is a slander that was spread through the small community I used to live and teach in. It reached my colleagues, my parents and my parents’ friends. I had to explain myself unnecessarily then and now recently to my son. Then I had to tell him the ugly truth about my divorce, a truth I have fought hard to protect all of my children from. “Children will be allowed to be children. There will be no yelling today…” The beginning of a long past family Christmas get together directed to my spouse. 
Yelling, anger, verbal abuse, physical aggression towards children, selfishness, laziness, and disrespect were the instruments of destruction in my marriage. I used to drop my kids off some mornings before teaching, cry my eyes out to the parking lot of the school, brush myself off, enter the classroom and put on a show. 

In my marriage, I did everything that both partners should share equally in and I decided that if that was the case – I would eliminate the toxic from our lives and continue on a lone parent as I had already been doing. This time, no anger. 

For 10 years, I have been the lone parent, managing a career and raising children. Having 4 days of down time a month. That’s 480 days of down time for me over 10 years in contrast to my ex’s 3240 days to manage himself, his wife and his work without interruption from the realities of raising kids full time. My children have been burdened with the fact that child support is paid, amounts having been announced at family functions. Seeds have been planted by father and stepmother that they pay for our life. 

Guess what? When mom has sole custody (never once challenged) her sacrifice is all of her time and the dad’s sacrifice is the pay cheque. P.S. child support amounts are decided by Justice Canada and not me and financial hardship (as claimed) can be filed through the courts.

My children chose not to see their father for 10 months straight because of his anger and lack of attention. Their initial assessment of a good time with their dad in the early years was that he did not yell much. That has been and remains the truth and reality as to why the divorce happened and why there is no shared custody. Not because I’m the big bad guy punishing my ex but because I love my children and I will not allow them to be immersed in a toxic environment. 

My marriage ended because my spouse chose anger and himself over love and family. That is our truth. Nothing else. 

Divorce is not the easy way out, it is painful and challenging. It demands that both parents set their own negative feelings aside for the sake of the children. The unfortunate truth is that is not always the case. 

Spare your kids the details and love them to bits. 

Parenting isn’t about you….

“Love your children more than you hate your ex” ~Tamara Judge

September 2017

My children choose not to go to their  dad’s.  Tears pour as they struggle with protecting themselves, digesting their relationship with their father or lack there of, and worrying about hurting their dad’s feelings. Thank goodness for therapy. This is beyond my scope of being able to kiss it better or flip the switch with an ice cream. 

I look at other people’s situations, how unhealthy their ex’s are and yet they send their kids to them half the time. Seven days on, seven days “off”. I’m envious and confused at the same time. 

I couldn’t fathom sending my kids to their dad at 2.5 and 5 years old without supervision. Who would protect them? Who would be the voice of reason? How would I sleep? 

Yet other people make the choice to send their kids, to not fight it. Do I have it wrong? Should I have chosen to do things differently? Maybe my kids would have seen the truth sooner and it wouldn’t be such a struggle for them? 

Fourteen days “off”. To be turned off, to only worry about me. To do as I please. Sounds fantastic. I’m envious. I wish that could be our situation. As I get older having that kind of down time would be luxurious. 

That’s not the choice I made. I feel I made the right choice and the reality is the Arrangement was never once challenged. My ex has not worked on himself. 

My only regret is having spent energy behind the scenes doing damage control for my ex, trying to keep the kids positive. Many days and nights spent helping them accept a stepmother, again doing damage control for my ex burdening them with the need to make her feel special. 

It is not the child’s responsibility to soothe your feelings, insecurities or to make you feel special. That should come organically because you are treating them like the treasures they are. Kinda like a karma thing…

As I write this Ginger calls.

Her: How are you? 

Me: Good but effing tired.

Her: Let’s plan your kids coming here for a weekend so you can have some time to yourself. You need a break. Seriously, it’s happening.

I love my friends. 

Lenses


Final blog, I thought so, but a career change affords me the freedom to write. Although my previous blog posts make me want to re-consider this…

I have just re-read some of my previous posts which at the time I probably thought were brilliant and insightful. Now, I read them and see the wreck I was. Self awareness is a wonderful lense. It brings things into focus, magnifies things, good and bad. 

Lenses…a catch phrase I kept repeating to my most recent ex(She says feeling like a poor version of  Elizabeth Taylor). “Change your lense not your location.” Blending a family is hard, it doesn’t happen in 11 months. Ironically, I am the one who needed to change my lense. I needed to see the situation for what it was. Mission impossible. You cannot change people. When they speak their truth, accept it. 

Blinders. Codependent behaviour. Those final days. Friday, June 16. We walk to the park. My lense is to get things back on track. I’ve just been to therapy, I’m entering the conversation with tools for success. His lense – anger. The cursing and yelling because I said I didn’t believe that I needed to take the internet modem every time a child was sick. So much yelling. When it’s over for someone else, it’s over. All this the night before I have to get up and do a reading at a funeral to honour my best friend’s mother, my aunt. 

Saturday, June 17. Funeral. Stress. In the morning I am met with more anger and button pushing. I state I’m not open to this interaction as I have a funeral reading to do. I’m met with “Life stops because you have a funeral to go to!?!?” Lense change! Focus.  

June 19…text message. A name. “Is that a marriage counsellor?” I ask.  Nope, realtor. The end. The two months that follow are just bewilderment and disappointment and a lot of wine.  A lot of wine. 

Therapist “I’m not sure there’s comfort in this but you need to know, this relationship literally ended over nothing.” She understands. She met the ex, she saw what I was up against. So much unhealthiness existed there. Dooped. Disappointed. Discouraged. Discombobulated. Devastated. 

New lense. Re-reading the transcript of the last two years. I have been Codependent in my relationships. Most of my relationships have been with narcissists. Gotta fix that situation. I think I’ve bought out amazon.ca books on narcissism and codependency on a quest to never repeat this again. The codependency books are helpful but the Narcissist books take me to a bad place, I’m not ready for those. 

Lense: You can’t be so in love with the idea of happy ever after that you aren’t seeing the now for what it is. The person in front of you is who they are. See them. Screw the happy ever after and see them, see them because if you don’t, the ending is just a natural disaster.

Heart of ice. “Feel no feelings.” I’m hoping this is a lense that will re-focus with time. Flowers at work ignites my anxiety. I want to actually be sick. Boys wanting dates just leads to sighs and indifference. A Facebook message from someone telling me, I’m the one that got away but alas they’re engaged, their initiation out of the blue- my first tears in months, they pour. Where’s the comfort in being the one that got away? None. He needed me to tell him it was okay, so I did. Done. 

 The old me would have received those flowers, compliments and messages and started that happy ever after movie playing in my head. Those lenses are gone. This is a good thing but the lenses will certainly need to be adjusted. Damn, they were pretty flowers.  


Slowly adjust the lenses…

Koi Fish – I read that blog post… Geezus. I very rarely remember my dreams. The koi fish dream came after I met a widower online. The widower was wrought with grief and pain. A handsome, intelligent, writer, father… but broken like me. Only worse, he had found happy ever after and it was taken too soon. I remember reading his blog about the loss of his beautiful wife and full on weeping.  I had not met him face to face. We were both existing in sadness. Then the koi fish dream. The widower standing by the pond. Happy. The brain is a messed up thing when we slumber… what lense does it wear when we sleep? Multi-focal lenses? Mary Jane type lenses….  What came from this? Some writing.

Bumble? Friends with benefits? Dating yet again at 42. Ugh. No thanks. I’m enjoying my kids, my friends, some running (disc don’t give out on me now), a fantastic new career and a mentor who thinks I’m some version of Carol Burnett. Sure, okay…

“Feel no feelings” 

Lense: self care…

Final blog… 💋💋💋

imageI just walked a corridor where I could hear whistling around the corner. It’s Friday. Most people are smiling and whistling. I have been whistling in my cubicle too.
This morning I signed a document that brought a smile I could not contain to my face. I wanted to skip with elation to my vehicle. I felt like a big deal as I made my way from the building to my car. You don’t realize how numb or low you’ve been until you feel high and alive. Nothing beyond what should be the norm but when the norm has been dark and heavy, it’s certainly great to have the sun be like an embrace instead of being a blinding truth. The sun shines and people whistle. I am one of the whistling people today and I do not feel it is a fleeting thing.
Being on track after such a catastrophic derailment is a feeling beyond words.
Looking forward to a night out at the race track. Walking Dead slot machines. Gotta be lucky.
I’m tasting stability. Happiness, genuine happiness and contentment. I’m an Aries so it makes me want everything to be perfectly in order and shiny right now. One tiny taste and I want the whole buffet, now!! The voice of reason reminds me “You can’t move a mountain in a day”. I love that ‘voice’. Typically my inner Aries would be like “Oh yeah, dear Yoda…watch me move that damn mountain tomorrow!!!!” Not now. Not this time. Now, I’m just like yeah you’re right, I’ll just sit my old ass down for a bit instead cuz I won’t be moving anything if I burn out. Burn out is not an option…

image

Celebratory lunch with T. Smiles and giggles. Horoscopes that read like they were written just for me. I’m glad I’m here. Literally and figuratively. There were days where I may have wished I was not, where everything was just too much for me to deal with. When my heart is not handled properly, when I do not handle my heart properly, it’s easy to go to that place. I don’t want to be there. I want to be here. I am here…no looking back.


This blog is coming down. It has been therapeutic to write most of it. Some of it I wish I could keep writing. I will probably do so privately. There are things in my heart and on my mind that need to be locked away and shared only face to face; perhaps never to be shared. It’s hard not to write those things out, to hold back. Spell them out. And then some things are just better left unsaid. I’ve posted and then deleted stuff. Some stuff I have posted and it set my heart a pounding… Some stuff I have deleted after posting, feeling foolish and well, my Aries fire doesn’t help either…. And so I move from the blah, blah, blah to this:

image

This morning as I drove in to work I heard this song and I thought I want to post this in my blog, it spoke to me. It spoke to me, that’s all. I was listening to 88.5 Live, it’s the only connection I can make right now….

Song blog…

I love this song! Love love love!

And these onesthey play frequently on my iPhone, they have for years with the exception of the last one its new but I love to dance to it or run 😉 ….

 

Music is my escape!! Always has been. I’m either lost in the lyrics or moving to the beat. No one will ever make me turn off my music again. It’s what keeps my home alive, sparkling and connected. Never again!

Always a work in progress. Trust and fear they still present as obstacles some days. I’ll just keep conquering them and I will let romantic love in. It will come… I want it to.

Always alright…Ciao Bellas!!!
Muah 💋

 

“He’s just…”

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We’re taught that in life, we should try to look on the bright side, to be optimistic. Not in this case. In this case, look on the dark side. Assume rejection first. Assume you’re the rule, not the exception.

Greg Behrendt

I referred to Greg Behrendt’s book the other day. I have friends in the dating world dealing with men who seem to be playing games. Making the girl an option. Taking her heart for granted and using it for their entertainment or ego.

I don’t give a rats ass what their current situation is or yours, if they are in to you they will say so. If there is a valid reason they cannot fully give their heart at this time, they need to take it slow; they will tell you. They will be honest about that because they will not want to lose you. If they are truly interested, they will tell you that too. They will show you! Their actions will match their words. No one is so busy that they cannot drop you a text or two in 24 hours. No one! 

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Conversely, they will not ever simply tell you they aren’t into you. Especially if they want to keep you as an option. Or simply they are immature cowards who fear you’re crazy, your tears or you will unleash a verbal beat down.

If you tell someone your heart is open to them and they tell you don’t get close or they don’t know what they want, they are figuring it out,  but keep texting you. Or they don’t text for days and days and then reappear like they never left you hanging. They are just not into you!! They’re in to one person though – themselves. They need a little ego boost or distraction and they’ve got your ‘number’. You’re a sure thing. A guaranteed response. The best cure for that ladies? Lose their number! Do not respond to those texts!!! Your heart is not a game. Your number is not an outlet for boredom! “Never make someone a priority who only makes you an option”.

Cryptic texting that makes the person mysterious or raises questions. Drop that game honey. Your heart is a pawn. Leave the unsolved mysteries to the FBI!

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You shouldn’t have to romanticize something or fill in the blanks. Especially in the adult realm of 35 plus year olds. Come on ladies, we’re smarter than this!

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Stop telling yourself you’re the exception to this dude. If you were, there’d be no wondering. No questioning. No assuming. No agonizing. Every day, yes every single day, you’d know you’re on his mind. He’ll want it that way because he couldn’t afford to let someone as good as you get snapped up by someone else.

“But what I can do is paint you a picture of what you’ll never see when you’re with a guy who’s really into you: You’ll never see you staring maniacally at your phone, willing it to ring. You’ll never see you ruining an evening with friends because you’re calling for your messages every fifteen seconds. You’ll never see you hating yourself for calling him when you know you shouldn’t have. What you will see is you being treated so well that no phone antics will be necessary. You’ll be too busy being adored.”

Greg Behrendt

If  he contacts every minute of the day with unrelenting phone calls and an engagement ring in the first month… That’s excessive. That’s psychotic. Run away fast. And read about dating a sociopath if you’re even considering romanticizing this kind of excessive attention. Been there done that, got the battle scars…

Someone can be in a place in their life where they are not ready to date. They can. If they are true to themselves, they will take themselves off the market and they will tell you they are doing so. If they see how awesome you are, they will not want to hurt you. They will prevent that from happening. They will not make you the fool. The option. You are not here for someone else’s entertainment while they figure their shit out. Not cool!

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We read the books. We experience the shit and we still romanticize it!!! A turd covered in glitter, is still and always will be a turd!!!  I don’t care how handsome they are or how flashy that smile is ladies! Handsome is as handsome does!

God damn it why do we settle? Don’t! You are amazing and you deserve more!

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I don’t understand how we get to the place where the message is clear but we still think it is something other than it is. We all do it at some point. We exhaust ourselves. Love should not be exhausting. It should be energizing and invigorating.

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Believe you are worth more than scraps of someone’s time. If someone puts your heart on a string, buy scissors!

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