Javier --I'm sorry I'm stupid. I'm sorry I couldn't say how I felt. I'm sorry I broke up with you when I think I might love you. Just know I will suffer too.

Living with mental illness is not easy. 

Living with the effects of childhood abuse and trauma makes living as an adult hard.

BPD is hard.

Rollercoasters are hard.

Protecting people from my rollercoaster is hard.

Feeling so deeply is hard. And sometimes so easy. I love deeply and I hate deeply. I fear deeply. 

He's really nice and kind and perfect and he's done nothing wrong but every fiber told me to send him that text telling him I can't see him because unbeknownst to him I've been on the roller coaster for two days AND IT ISN'T EVEN HIS FAULT.

Sometimes I feel like I just don't know how to handle someone being kind or good to me. It's not his fault he's kind and good so my body freaks out like wtf, this isn't right...this isn't suppose to happen..I don't understand ...abort abort abort my body says

So I do.

I sent him a text after 3 weeks telling him I won't see him again and then cried because I'm an idiot, because I'm a little in love with him and I think I could be more ...

Why did I do it on text? I'm a shit person for that. 

Part of me fantasizes that he won't let me do it. That he asks for one more dinner and a decent explanation and then when he sees me cry he will know I don't mean it and that really it was because I was hurt.

Why was I hurt?

Because I'm starting birth control and he still wants to use protection. 

What a stupid reason to be hurt. He has every right and he should do what feels comfortable to him. But I was so shocked when he said it. 

I have loved men less and felt them inside me with no barriers and here...I have been looking forward to this and he just shocked me.

So I reacted when I got home and sent a break up text. 

But it's more than that. He deserves better than a woman who rides an emotional roller coaster and has to resist the urge to break up with him every other day over some stupid shit. 

Why couldn't I just tell him how I felt?

In a weird fucked up way I rationalize not telling him with protecting him. I am minimizing my own feelings about it and saying I have no right to feel that way so I just won't tell him how I feel and I'll just break up with him...problem solved.

It's ok. Tell me it's stupid. I know...it's stupid. 

He hasn't responded and the anxiety of what he will say and the pain of having hurt him and hurt myself is choking me. I'm an idiot.

He was kind and sweet and sexy and handsome and he was so good to me. Too good. 

I'm so stupid. 

Lay with Purpose (Depression)

I lay with purpose
Pressing my body into the sheets
If I stay here long enough
Maybe I can grow roots.

I lay with purpose.

Who we give the power to

I'm not jealous of his ex-wives

I'm jealous of ex-lover

Who he said almost destroyed him.

I want the power to destroy him

but I will only do good things with it.

He's water

I thought he was dessert.

I was wrong.

I thought he was meat and potatoes (sustaining food)

but he's nothing so bland.

He's water (necessary and life giving)

after you've been parched and dry for years

in a desert full of dry men.

This house, like my skin, begins to feel like home.

Coming home after the divorce use to feel like a sentence
I hereby sentence you to be alone, to never feel like anything is yours,
to always feel like it's too messy or too full
or like you've created it for someone else to feel at home in.
I have dutifully hung curtains and furnished it.

It starts to feel like home.

This house, like my skin, begins to feel like home.

I want...

I want to tell you what I'm reading so you can tell me what you think about it.

I want to ask how you can be Italian and tell me you have faith in the working class of America while me a product of the working class of America doesn't have faith. I lost mine; give me some of yours.

I want to know if there is poetry in your soul. Are you all business or is there softness in all your stern-facedness?

I want to know what your Mother is ill with.

I want to know how your marriage ended. Did she want it or did you? Did it die slowly or in flames? Do you still hurt about it?

I want to know about your first marriage.

I want to take a bath in a large mosaic bathtub with you. I want you to sit at one end and me the other.   I want to see you see me covered in water and bubbles while our bodies brush against each other and the smooth soap makes our skin slip when we rub together. I want to rub against you.

I want to have dinner with you while we sit on the same side of the table and I watch your mouth form words that interest me. I want to have to make the decision: would I rather hear you talk or rather feel you kiss me?

I want to hold your hand.

I want to know what you look like in the sunshine and the dark and how your skin tastes when you've been sweating.

I want to lay in bed with you and talk the way we do. Talking to you is better than most of the sex I've had with other men.

I want to know if you fuck slow or fast.

I want to know how you like it.

I want to know you.

A true soul mate is a mirror...

I googled him. Part of me wishes I hadn't. I refuse to message him today mostly based on the fear he doesn't feel the same.
Part of me thinks 'if you like him Ginger then don't be afraid to say so...don't be afraid to reach over' but another part of me says 'you fool, you will scare him away'. But then that other voice (don't try to keep count of them all) says if you scare him away then maybe he isn't for you.

Sometimes we want things for ourselves that aren't for us.

Like Lawrence, he isn't for me. It's been months since we saw each other in person. I can't remember much about him in that sense. He fades...the smell of him, the sight, the feelings maybe even.

I'm reading "Eat Pray Love" which is almost as bad as I thought it would be. But there were a few nuggets of knowledge I took away. Like this after she says David was her soulmate,"He probably was. Your problem is you don't understand what that word means. People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that's holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with your soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then they leave. And thank god for it."- Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert




emanuele saccarelli seems to be a very serious man. Don't get me wrong. He does have a sense of humor but overall he's very serious. I am not a very serious person. I'm afraid he will find me frivolous and light headed.

I know I should be myself but I find myself wondering if I should be more serious for him...which would be the worst idea. Maybe Emanuele need a little bit of me in his life and I need a little bit of him.
I want to hold him and our convos in a little safe space so I can still like him and unwrap him when I get to Rome in about 30 days.

Speaking of Rome, my hosts at my airbnb in Rome gave me some apps to download which I see will be very helpful. Roma Bus and Citymapper.

I find myself wondering where Emanuele and I will be in 30 days. Maybe no longer talking but if we are will he meet me at the airport or will he just come over later. I encourage myself not to rely on him so I plan and look and do like I won't know a soul there. That is best I think.

Forbidden Tingles

I would die of mortified embarrassment if the Tinder guy found this journal. I sound like a school girl and he's a college professor but boy does he make tingles in my stomach and other places. Which scares me a little bit because Lawrence did that...Lawrence of the great love affair of '17. That's 2017, not 1917.

I have no business getting tingles about anyone. I forbid it. I forbid it so much I shan't talk to him tomorrow. This is silly.

So what if he and I talked twice today and I was never bored and he sent another pic and he's even cuter than I thought and he wrote two books and I want to lick his brain it's so cute and gorgeous and omlord I heard his voice and I want to listen to it all the time. I'm resisting the urge to get my phone out and listen the recording of his voice again.

My fondest, perhaps I shouldn't be admitting this after TWO days of talking to a guy I met on Tinder...but my fondest wish is that I look back on this as the start of finding my person. But truthfully I might look back on this blog and barely register this guy as a blip on my radar in a year or two or five. That's life isn't it. Or that's me.

My therapist would say we meet who we meet when we are suppose to meet them but that takes away my agency. The truth is that we decide. We make decisions. I could have not contacted him today. I could not contact him tomorrow. I could hate him in a week. I'm in charge. This is not some whim of fate or design. I will decide who remains in my life (as long as they want to) and who goes (whether they want to or not).

He said he was a bit of a political guru. Maybe I should google his books...

Selfless Motherhood Doesn't Exist

When you become a Mother, no light shines down and makes you instantaneously selfless. It doesn't happen that way. It would be nice if it did. Motherhood like anything is a great balancing act between trying to meet your needs and theirs.

I'm going to shock you. Maybe.

I once planned to leave my kids with their Dad for a year. I was going to visit every 3 months for at least a week, probably two. I was planning a year. A year to get over my divorce, to figure out my life direction, to get myself together. I had a plan, a place, a person. I discussed it with my ex. We were thinking of some details, working it out. He sure had a lot of shame to throw at me. 

I was dealing with overwhelming guilt. BUT THE THING IS we had discussed this very option if my ex went to work overseas or out of town as a viable option. Not to mention for years he had worked a 25/5 schedule where he worked 25 straight days before he got 5 off. WHY as a society do we think it's so much easier or better for men to leave their children than women? I mean I wasn't abandoning them. I was just leaving the with their OTHER parent. A responsible adult. Why the guilt then? It's inherently sexist if you think it's ok for a man to do this but not a woman. 

What stopped me? My kids. I mentioned it to them like I was thinking about it and they fell apart. See...the reason why it's different in my case is for exactly the reason I just illustrated. I had been the kids "psychological parent" for years. To suddenly leave them would be abandoning them. The divorce was already leaving them fragile and they needed me. 

So those plans went by the wayside but in trying to keep the balance I did leave them with my sister for a week and go to Belgium. And I will be going to Italy for two weeks while they are with their 

Dad in July. 

Balance. I can't have a year. 

It's been a year now anyways. 

A hard year but also a year that built me.

In closing what I am trying to say is....my life belongs to me. 

"Don't fool yourself the passion never gets lost..."

“Don’t fool yourself the passion never gets lost for those who live the passion.”
                                        -Pier Paolo Pasolini

I met a guy on Tinder who is in Rome and he had a pic of a mural of Pier Paolo Pasolini and a quote. This is the quote translated. I don't know much about this guy from Tinder. He lives in San Diego but he's from Rome. He's been in the US since 1993. He teaches the NOT dreadful political science which he says is Machiavelli, Rousseau, Marx, and Trotsky. He says dreadful political science is voting polls in Wyoming. Then we bonded over the fact he got a 300$ ticket in Wyoming (because he drives like an Italian) and I lived there for 9 years. It was a great convo that flew by in seconds... and I haven't heard from him since. That makes me sad. I've been thinking about him ever since. 

For him it could have been nothing. Maybe a blurb in a day and he's barely thought of it since but in my free moments (which have been few) I have thought of him. It was that kind of convo that leaves you with warm feelings. You pull it back up and read it again just to remember how easy it flowed, how you smiled, how you glowed, how it feels to be perfectly in sync with someone like your minds are moving at the same pace. They delight you with their responses and how their mind works. 
Is all this too much to ask for in my person?

Isn't it silly to see this much in one convo...? 
Or maybe it's not.
Maybe I live the passion.

Emotional Labor

https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B0UUYL6kaNeBTDBRbkJkeUtabEk/view?pref=2&pli=1

I want to finish reading this. I only got halfway through. 

But yes! Two or three things instantly popped into my head. 

1) I am always saying I just want one day where the only ass I wipe is mine. In other words I'd like a day where my needs are the only ones I have to meet. 

2) When my husband cooks dinner he wants endless gratitude and ass pats. I tried to explain to him that I cook dinner all the other nights and not because I need (or will get) endless gratitude but because we have children that have to eat. I wake up thinking about their needs. (Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Who is drinking enough fluids. Who needs to see the dentist. Who needs a new jacket. Are they getting enough social interaction. Do they feel loved.) I have this group thing I go to alone every other Tuesday. When it first started a year ago he would ask me what was for dinner. I would fucking answer and make sure I had a plan, picked up food before I left, or cooked. Then I was like, wait, is he expected to do that when he plans a night away from home? No. Why should I? He's capable of heating a frozen pizza, calling for takeout, or even cooking a meal. He's a grown ass man. So I stopped. Now he figures it out because I didn't give him a choice. Though I've noticed if the kids don't verbally remind him he will FORGET TO FEED THEM. Like, wtf. I could never forget this because that would make me a shitty Mom, right? Plus I just fucking care. I care if they are hungry. 

3) My husband doesn't know the size of any of the kids clothes. Nada. He SAYS he can't even fold clothes because he doesn't know whose clothes are whose. He doesn't know their favorite colors. He doesn't know their favorite music. He doesn't know what their current favorite interests are. Before this thread I use to think I was being too hard on him because I spend all day with them (homeschool which is a whole other EL) and he doesn't but really fuck that. 

4) He expects me to talk to his Mother but honestly it's not even him, it's her. She calls me and expects me to make arrangements for her visits or keep her abreast of her grandkids. I ask him all the time why does she call me. He even reminds me to call her. Just NO. His Mother, he should handle it. He is capable of making arrangements and talking to his own Mother. I shouldn't have to. 

5) I plan all family vacations. If I wait for him to then we never go. I come up with some ideas, get his opinions, find sites, book tickets, do price comparisons, pack all the bags (4 kids and me) and his ONLY job is asking off but he will keep reminding me he needs me to make plans so he can ask off for the right time and acts like that is a huge emotional deal on his part. 

6) He picks up after himself, washes his own clothes, buys most of his own personal care supplies like razors, shaving cream,...basically takes care of himself...and he thinks this alone should get him huge ass pats AND if you listen to other women he may be right. Not only emotional labor but there are so many women married to men who can't even pick up their fucking socks or wash their own clothes, which is like basic adult human being stuff. I sometimes feel like I should be grateful for a man who can take care of his own needs and I'm asking too much if I ask him to share in some emotional labor and giving a basic fuck about the needs of his offspring. 

I day dream about him being forced to care more, seriously. I day dream about him having to wash their clothes, buy them presents, take them to functions and know times and people and shit, buy dance costumes and Christmas presents and Halloween costumes, and have to feed them three times a day plus snacks. 

Radical reclamation

If you look at me and you think why does she pick unusual hair styles and bright colors, why did she decide not to shave or why is she wearing those clothes, why did she get tattoos and why does she pick that style of clothing? Why does she live there or drive that or have those bumper stickers? Why does she choose to not stand up when she should or not sit down when everyone else is? Why won't she conform?

 If you look at me know I am a survivor of a home of domestic violence and child abuse and that every decision about my body and my lifestyle is another way I reclaim myself. Every time I am authentic to my wants and needs, and every time I use my voice is another rung on a ladder of freedom. 

Every act is one of radical reclamation. Every day is an effort at self love. Every act that is not coerced or pressured is another way I heal. 

Every time I speak up now is for every time my voice was silenced because I was afraid, because I hurt, because I wanted to be safe, because I was forced to pretend things were ok. 

Until you've walked a mile....

Conversation with my daughter over lunch

Me: What did you talk about in your Unitarian Universalist Middle School Club today?
Her *animated*: We talked about gendering toys and colors and how other things are gendered. Some of my friends told stories about how they were discouraged about buying certain toys because of their gender or about how they weren't allowed to wear a suit because girls had to wear dresses in their school choir.
Me: That's a really good topic. It reminds me of our trip to the agriculture museum yesterday. An older man caught me on the porch while you guys and Dad were playing. He said I had 4 girls and I told him Ezra was a boy. I said maybe the long hair or his nail polish was why he though Ezra was a girl. He said oh, get him around some boys and they will start teasing him and he'll learn to stop doing that. I just walked off but the truth is that Ezra or anyone can wear nail polish or have any length hair they want. Those things don't define your gender. Only you can define your gender. This man lived in an age and time when people's worst fear was their kids would 'catch the gay' . They thought you could catch it from nail polish apparently. I don't care if you kids are gay, straight, lesbian, transgender, queer, etc I only want one things for your future and that's your happiness.
Kylie: It's almost like he WANTED Ezra to be bullied for his nail polish.
Me: That's a good way to put it. I agree. That's not kind. No one should ever be bullied, ever. Not for their hair, or nail polish, or clothes or anything.

Me: So today in my Social Justice meeting at church we discussed a few things. One thing was Planned Parenthood. Some of the members got to tour the facility and they said it was very nice.
Her: What is Planned Parenthood?
Me: Oh it's a great place. I went there for STD testing, treatment, pap smears, breast exams, and contraception. If I had needed to they also do abortions. You know I was diagnosed with an STD right after your Dad and I started dating and having sex. We don't know who had it first but we both got treatment from them. They gave me antibiotics for treatment and another bottle to give to my partner to treat his STD. It was a very embarrassing time and I almost just dumped your Dad because telling him we had an STD was not what I wanted to do but that wouldn't have been fair to him. I got tested regularly and he didn't. It's a good thing it got caught. If I had gotten pregnant at that time in my life despite my efforts at birth control I probably would have had an abortion. Honestly, at the stage your Dad and I are right now and because we don't want more kids if I were to get pregnant now I would probably have an abortion.

On the way home in the car.

Her: You know Mama, you have tried to tell me that I'm being stereotypical when I like blond hair or when I don't like country music. You accused me of only wanting those things because of a cultural or society's message and that's not fair. I can like or not like those things because that's how *I* feel.
Me: You are absolutely correct. I apologize. I just know we can internalize messages about blond hair being the best or most beautiful because of our society of systematic racism and I know when I was your age kids that did like country would say they didn't because it was cool to say you didn't at the time. I just want you to be authentic and not feel pressured. I felt pressured about shaving and makeup and it took some self reflection to decide what was not an internalized message of society and what *I* really want.
Her: I get what you are saying about internalized messages. Truthfully I like country music more than I say. I mean I don't like it but it's not super awful.

Loss, even if we impose the loss for protection, hurts

This month the topic at church is 'Loss'. That's almost an overwhelming subject from the get-go. Of course the first thing that comes to mind is loss through the death of a loved one. There are many kinds of loss though.

The first to occur to myself was the loss of my Mother. You could say that it is a self-imposed loss so less relevant but I would disagree.

 Deciding to cut off my relationship with my Mother to protect myself after years of physical, mental, and emotional abuse is one of the most difficult things I've ever done. I mourn the loss of that relationship much like someone would mourn the death of a loved one. She is alive but our relationship has ended. With the realization of how truly awful my upbringing was and with the subsequent healing journey I've been going through I have also mourned my childhood. I have mourned the childhood I did not have. I have mourned the ways that I had to change because of her. I have mourned the stunted emotional development. I have mourned what could have been and tried to find a path of what is now. I have felt denial. I have denied that it THAT bad. I have tried to see the good and make it so large that the bad didn't exist. I (This one is a bit funny.) have even tried to deny I was her child. I remember in my childhood and even as a teenager thinking that I was going to suddenly be sat down for a solemn talk and told that I was adopted from a lovely family. It was a fantasy of mine. I am angry. I am still angry often. I don't know if I'm even past this stage. I'm past my initial anger I guess. I don't know who I'd bargain with. I may have tried to strike a bargain with myself in the past that something I did would make this relationship ok. If I just ignored this much or avoided the phone this much or just came to her house for this long that everything would be fine and she'd be normal and it would all be ok. I'm absolutely certain I have depressive episodes. I don't know that I'm never not depressed by the whole situation. I do not believe whatever stages may be lingering that I have yet met acceptance. It seems to accept this means to forgive or deny or somehow undermine what has been the most life changing relationship of my life. I cannot deny the damage and I cannot accept her or it. I'm pretty certain I need therapy.

I just wanted to address loss and the many ways and things we can feel a feeling of loss about. I mourn a relationship that I chose to end. I mourn a loss of a childhood that I never really had.

Relationship over Power, Relationship over that satisfying feeling of being RIGHT

Today this woman told me this story about how her daughter won't ever lock up her bike. They are reminding her all the time. Asking her if she locked it up all the time. She lies to them. They remind her. They punish her. They need her to lock her bike up. I ask why. She says because there has been thefts in the neighborhood. She says this is an ongoing battle with her child for years now. I say well her bike hasn't been stolen in all those years despite not locking it up, has anything been stolen? Oh yea, her bike was stolen. Someone jumped her gate, opened her garage and stole it out of the garage. Hmm mmm. But that wasn't because your bike wasn't locked up...it was because someone wanted to steal a bike. If someone really wants to steal a bike then a bike will be stolen.

So she found her daughters bike unlocked when it was suppose to be locked at school so she stole it. She stole her daughters bike and rode it home to teach her daughter a lesson. Her daughter came home devastated, upset, and crying because she thought her bike had been stolen. When she found out it hadn't she was very angry with her Mother. I would say understandably so. So did her daughter learn that her bike will get stolen or did she learn not to trust her Mother? She learned her Mother was capable of these things, not her neighbor. She learned her Mother will hurt her to teach her a lesson. Has she learned the lesson she was suppose to? Doubtful. She has learned mistrust in the person she should trust the most.

No matter how much I tried to logic this woman she would not get it so I wrote some FB responses and I will share them here. What she did to her daughter was not kind or respectful? It will not have the effect she wants it to have, but she could not keep from defending her actions while admitting what she is doing in her parenting is not working.

Some thoughts I had related but not directly.

"It can be so frustrating talking to people who parent drastically different. 

Power struggles do not make a peaceful home. Be the grownup, be the adult, and opt out of the power struggle. No one wins. There is crying so one person can feel superior to another. There is no contest. You hold the purse strings, you are stronger, you are bigger, you are smarter...you don't need to prove any of those things. Treat them with gentleness, respect, love, and kindness because they are deserving of it. There is so much more to be gained from modeling the appropriate behavior than fighting a battle for dominance. 

Stop seeing your home as a hierarchy and see your relationship as a partnership.

Your job is not to make bad things happen to them so they can know bad things happen. That's going to happen anyways. Your job is to love them and care for them and protect them. Those bad things are inevitable. Consequences are inevitable. Be their shelter from the storm, not the storm.

Value your relationship with your child more than any perceived lesson that you need to teach them. 

Your actions should be like any other action with another person. Is it hurting them? It is kind? Have empathy. Always."

Maybe It's the Cult of "Love Yourself and Tolerate No Bullshit"

I think I've decided the cult my Mother may be talking about. It started with intactivism and it spread. I am more open, more loving, and more accepting in many ways that she would not understand. She didn't believe in helping others. She believed the worst in others. She always had such a small and mean spirited way of seeing things. I don't do that anymore. In some ways I have closed other doors though. I do not tolerate violence, especially toward children. I will not listen to you talk about it. I will not watch you put it into action. I will not have people in my life who promote or take part in it.

So I am less accepting in ways she would like as a verbally, emotionally, and physically abusive person and I a more accepting in ways she does not like meaning the LGBTQAI+ community and races among other things.

A Mother's Love

My MIL came to visit and when she did she told me she saw my Mother in Walmart. My body betrayed me in that moment and I felt a little thrill that I was going to get news. What I knew in that moment is no matter how much I can assure myself that the best thing is not having contact with her, that I will continue to miss and mourn her, and that I will be sad. 

She told me that my Mom told her I was in a cult. This isn't the first time I heard this since she also told my cousin this at my Grandma's birthday party that I purposefully missed because of her. A fucking cult. I kid you not. I really don't know what part of my life she feels is cultish. I feel like she may think being an intactivist was joining a cult which is hilarious but I really think she's scared by the changes she saw in me after that. I've been on a life changing journey of acceptance of myself and others, of love of myself and others...Yes, I have changed. I stopped hitting my kids. I've mostly stopped yelling. I decided I was an atheist. I started attending a Unitarian Universalist Church. 

I feel like I'm closer to being the person I was always meant to be. I feel like this awakening would have happened sooner if she hadn't been such a destructive force in my life. 

What happened was that I woke up and realized that she was abusive and that remaining in a relationship with her was toxic. I learned to love myself and to take care of myself and to decide that is not what is best for me and my children. 

What I find really funny is that started spreading these rumors about me and trying to take my sister's kids only after my sister confronted her about our abusive childhoods and why she would kick our brother out of the house. When confronted and asked to account for herself she turned to slander against me and Erica. She's an evil person..

and she's my Mother. It's so very complicated. 

I cried. Great big crushing tears, body shaking, ugly crying on Foy's shoulder. I didn't mean to. I went to tell him and his Mom had already told him. I just started crying. The truth is I wish I could cry more. Some part of me wants to fall into a giant hole of depression but I won't because I have these kids and I have UU and I have purpose.

 I am loved by someone. I am worthy of respect. I am deserving of all the good things. 

When the one person who is suppose to love you doesn't then telling yourself these things is so important. 

Ramblings of those who didn't sleep well.

UU has this thing called 'covenant groups'. It's like small groups of friends who meet once a month outside of church to support each other and talk about things going on with them or just to talk. I've been really looking forward to joining one since they sound a lot like my favorite 'sunday school' activity which is just a group of people who get together and talk about things. I'm having a lot of nerves about it though. I don't like committing especially if I don't feel fully informed and the groups give out very little info. They only tell you the days, times, and places they meet. They only list the groups and you pick them on ONLY that criteria. I want a group I will like!

I missed the social justice meeting this week because they had like an introduction to UU class after church that I've been meaning to take. I wanted to attend the justice meeting since I had attended a SA Feminist Unite get together and met the leader of the local chapter of NOW (National Organization for Women). I should get an email of the minutes though. It's hard to add any constructive talk afterwards though.

I was giving someone parenting advice on a thread (how to deal with young children and tantrums) and someone asked if I had interference from my relatives or husband and those sorts of questions always throw me off. I do not. I ask my husband why and he said because they are scared of me but even complete strangers do not look at me and think there is a woman wanting advice. I only wish I could point to a quality or characteristic that makes me NOT be a victim of this so then maybe others can fake it.

Nobody rules this body but ME.

I often write things in private groups but I don't share them with my general Facebook page and I feel sometimes I do my friends a disservice. Sometimes they think they know me but they are only a party to what I have chosen to show them. I try to pick what the material is I want to talk about so where it's an appropriate place to post it. If it's a private rant about my husband then in a off topic baby wearing group of local women or in a private group of close friends. If it's a parenting question then often in a whole life unschooling group since I know they parent similar to me. If it's about religion I often pick an atheist group. Sometimes I have things to say that I think no one wants to hear me ramble and that often arrives here.

Some thoughts I had recently.

I grew up in a fundamentalist Christian religion with lots of rules about women's bodies. Rules about what we could put on our bodies (no makeup, no cutting your hair, no jeans or shorts, no jewelry, etc) and rules about what we could do with our bodies (told where to sit in church, sex shamed and taught abstinence or hell). 

I went from that to what I thought were some unwritten societal rules about women. It's gross to have armpit hair, women don't have shaved heads, and fat girls can't love their bodies among them.

One day I realized I had just traded one set of rules for another and baby wasn't going back in a corner.

Nobody rules this body but ME.

So I had half my head shaved yesterday and I grow armpit hair. That's one finger on each hand in the air for YOU society and a religion that restricts instead of grows.

The conversation that brought about these words was when I was getting my head shaved. The hairdresser asked if I felt lighter. I told her nothing could compare figuratively or literally to the moment when I shed the rules of my religion and cut my hair for the first time at 18. That was a taste of freedom. 

Sometimes I cringe that I feel like I'm still defining myself. I'm still learning myself. I feel like I'm doing things a teen should do, stretching her wings and defining her style, but here I am a woman of 35 still stretching her wings and defining her style. 

Other times I feel like no matter what kind of childhood I had I would still be the woman I am because I get bored easily. I hate the mundane and the unimaginative. 

I read this article on children of narcissist and I can't decide if wanting attention is a horrible thing or a valid thing. I have the same problem that they talk about. I cut my hair into an extreme style or dye it a vibrant color and then shy away when someone makes a big deal about it. It has to be frustrating for others. 

I just want to know the choices I am making for myself ARE ruled by me and not ruled by my past. I don't want all of them to be because I am still trying to overcome or I'm still trying to prove SOMETHING to somebody. 

I wasn't sure how Foy was going to feel. It was rather funny actually. I showed up at the house after deciding to drive all night home when I had planned to stay at my sister's in Houston. I showed up when I turned to the shaved side he was half asleep and was like 'OMG, what happened to your hair?!?" HAHA. I started to say I was set upon by a gang of ruffians ...but it's ok, they just wanted half my hair. WTF did he think had happened? ha. 

He was kind of in a crabby mood all that day and I asked him if it was about my hair. He said maybe and I told him to get over it. I don't tell him what tats to get (He got at least two of them while I was out of town.) and those are permanent. His body, his decision. My body, my decision. 


All of the heavy accessing of my reasons behind it, I like it and I got many compliments when grocery shopping the next day. One woman just stopped and looked at me and said, 'You are beautiful.". It was amazing. I've never had a stranger have that effect before. I like to think it's my happiness or my smile or just my giant FUCK YOU to convention that they admire. 

I also got new shoes and a couple new outfits. Outfits that are terribly inappropriate for a fat girl if you ask some but I also say fuck you to that. Fuck any negativity. Fuck whether you approve of my body. Fuck your opinions. They don't belong on me. 

Future Thoughts.

I'm tired of being scared. I feel like I want to do something. I want to feel like I'm living and not just holding a space for when I'm ready to live.

My problem is I don't really know what I want to do. I thought about taking a college course or trying to get a job on a blog ...even a non-paying one. I thought about starting one.

I'm flaky. I have a million ideas and too little follow through.

I want to do Yoga.

I feel like all the things I want to do will take too much from my children. I feel like I owe them my time and resources especially because we unschool. Guilt. It's guilt.