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Walking Down a Different Road…Poorly.

This title may not be what you think. I have found that I have grown tired of “just making it.” It weighs upon my mind a lot. I have also found that when you do finally start heading toward a point where you can do slightly more than “just make it.” The higher powers tend to see an opportunity to squeeze you for whatever extra it is that you have and put you right back to where you were to begin with. Yes, I tend to not write about things like this on my public blogs. However, writing is a form of release for me and today, I will, walk down a different road.

My family is not your typical american family when it comes to paying bills and debt. We are not drowning under credit card debt or a crushing mortgage. We have abstained from refinancing or taking out additional lines of credit against our house. While that may be the thing to do, I simply don’t feel it to be the right thing to get our bills paid when we can do it just fine without that. Borrowing from one source just to reduce the payments on another or to combing a bunch of nickle and dime things just does not seem like the thing to do. (Oh, Daddy, you should be so proud!) In hindsight, no credit card debt and the fact that we can pay our necessities without worry is great. We have TWO extra things that we have been working on to pay off over time but it is not so much that we have to struggle to make bills. These things are just to improve our credit score. Now that I think about it. I am only feeding into the corporate monster and living the Sheeple life by doing that. However, it seems to be necessary if we want to get ahead in any area of life like to purchase a new car. (Example only, walking is so much better for the environment.) Well, that will be over soon and we will only have to foot the bill for “necessaries” like power, water, mortgage, and internet. Yea, internet is a necessary. Well, at least until the world goes to heck in a hand basket. Then we can do away with THAT bill. Yay?

Still, none of the above is what weighs heavily on me. I think a lot about the vacations my parents took me on as a kid. Those were vivid memories which stood out against the bland backdrop of watching my previous year of school become a fading memory on the highways of this country. Remember, every ending school year meant that Daddy was going to sign a new contract with his company and they would ship up off to yet another state to live for the year while he straightened out the mess of a kitchen they sent him to. He provided for us and we had our vacations. I just never had any roots to grow until I became older. My roots are spread all over this country from coast to coast. Dry, brittle, and long forgotten, the things that stand out the most were the vacations. Maybe that was what they did to make up for uprooting me from potential friends and opportunities which could have been afforded to me growing up. Still, I would not have changed anything.

It’s not that our brood prevents us from taking a vacation. We have a support system and family who can watch the kids while we pick and choose or even watch the dogs while we are away. It’s the fact that, while this country tells you to make memories with your children, they put the financial portion out of the reach of the average person. The nuclear family has to make nearly $50, 000 a year to be able to put away something into savings and even then, you need nearly $5,000 to even think about a 3 day trip for a couple. Everything is taxed and everything is overpriced. When Reagan was president (yes, I know, cost of living, etc. BS to that,) purchasing a brand new car did not mean that you were taking out a note that was near the equivalent of the market value of your home. It didn’t cost $50 to PARK at a resort area only to again pay near the same PER PERSON to get in. Never mind the fact that you then have to pay just to breathe inside the park. Corporate greed, my friends. They try to make smiles only attainable for the extraordinarily rich and, frankly, I am tired of it.

On a different note, do you know why this country has become so fanatically engrossed in the fact that they love to watch the prepping shows and extreme couponing?  It is this: the poor are tired of being sucked dry and being pushed around by the rich. They remember the Great Depression and they know what it will take to hurt the rich. Not to assassinate or rob them. Let the stock market drop. Let the zombie apocalypse happen. Let there be some fantastic computer glitch that takes out the internet. Who is going to survive? Those of us who know what it is like to live without. Those of us who can survive on skill alone and not believe it to be the end of the world simply because your investments took a wrong turn. Snatch those comfy pillow out from under the stuffy rich who sit upon them and what do you have? Sniveling, snarling, rich bastards who believe they have just lost their entire world. Oh, sure, there will be a few who will move on and think that they can do it all over again. However, when the world goes to shit, their money is going to be nothing more than fuel for the fire. With their clean, unscarred hands and the inability to know how to do a hard day’s work, they will not last long. I can assure you of that.

OK. I feel better now. I put a foot on my soapbox and chewed the gum for a few minutes. Thanks for listening peeps. Oh, yea….

What do YOU think?

Whatever happened to Miss Ingold?

Back in my lat teens and early 20’s I was a breakfast manager at a local fast food restaurant named Hardee’s. The hours were perfect: 3am-1pm. For me, it was an easy job and presented challenges as well. One such challenge was some of the people that worked the same shift I did. One was the hostess, she is a topic for another story. The other was this big ole German lady named Ingold.

Ingold was not by any means your normal person. To begin with, she had to warm up to you. It was not easy to gain her confidence in your abilities as either a manager or a co-worker. Also, she hated everyone. However, she was good at her job. Ingold only worked breakfast. When it was time to transition, she was out the door. She was a good worker but you had to get her on your side to work for you. You see, Ingold liked to be prompt and start things on time. While the manager was technically not supposed to start or arrive to open the doors until at least 3:45 am, if you showed up at any point after 3:00 am, you were certain to have a bad day. Showing up late made Ingold grouchy and boy…you never wanted that woman to be grouchy. (Grumpy doesn’t even come close to what this woman could be if she was…grouchy. Even Oscar the Grouch was mild compared to when this woman was on a roll. Ah, but I digress.) I liked to show up early just for her because I knew if she started her day off right, I would not have to worry about the kitchen because Miss Ingold handled things. Besides, at 4:01 am, the time the schedule says we are supposed to clock in, she would get in her car and go home. THAT, my friends, is a bad day. Without her, it was difficult at best.

Other workers knew that too. Because I worked hard to get Miss Ingold on my side, she eventually warmed up to me. I think there were a few mornings that I totally earned her respect. “Why? How?” You ask? Like this:

Ingold worked six days a week. The days I was blessed to have her on my shift, I knew I was going to have a good day. She kept that kitchen running and things were hardly ever late. I would giggle at her when there was a special request from a customer during the busy part of the morning because she would yell through the window at me “What the hell do they think this is Burger King? This is not have it your way!” Begrudgingly, she would make the special request anyway. If she was particularly chipper, she would offer to make your breakfast for you on your break and hook a sister up!

Anywhoo, back to the how and why. There were a few times I had overslept. Upon waking, the only thing I would think would be:

“Shit! Ingold is gonna be pissed!”

I would jump straight up, throw on my pants, button 4 of the 7 buttons on my shirt, grab my shoes, brush, toothbrush, toothpaste, and other “get ready” stuff and run to the car just so I could make it on time. One particular morning I got lots of laughter from her (which was rare) because I showed up at 3:05 am and had all my stuff randomly in my arms and was dropping and picking up things all the way from my car to the door. I was apologetic every step of the way. One sock on, one sock off, she actually told me not to worry that she was in a good mood because of me. This thoroughly confused me because in Ingold time, I was late. I think the that she seen that I was stressing out over her being grouchy more than I was at my appearance at Good God It’s Early in the morning. To be honest, I think that was the first time I did that. After that day, I think I had Miss Ingold on my side and we got along famously. Even when she was grouchy.

She was old then and this was in the mid 1990’s. I moved on and life went on but I thought of her often. I really liked that old Broad. I wonder what has become of her?

What do YOU think?

 

Good Morning Stranger

I get up and go about my usual morning routine. Only, I stop for an extra moment to ponder what I see in the mirror. Who is this looking back at me? I have not seen you for a long, long time. Good morning Stranger! Where have you been? Can it really be you? From way back when? Thinking back, I don’t know where you went. Did you hide? Was it time well spent?

Why do I say these things to the mirror? After all, it is just a reflection. A reflection of one’s self. However, that reflection can become someone else. Someone you hate, someone you don’t recognize and remain that way for many years. Sometimes, it is not even the fault of oneself that we end up this way. Sadly, in my case, I think it was. You see, the reflection I have been staring at (screaming at) for nearly 20 years was not me but someone much larger, lost, and different. I avoided her. I didn’t take pictures, I didn’t look in the mirror. When I did, I wanted to throat punch her and scream in her face until spit rained upon it. WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH ME!!!!????

But this morning was different. I have yet to wash my face and brush my hair but I can only smile at what I see staring back at me. I don’t want to scream at her. I don’t hate her. I know she has come a long way and has a long way to go but I can see her. My best version of me. She is beautiful. She is a mess. However, she is no longer a joke. She is wiser. Things like fat jokes are not funny anymore. She sees the world through a different filter. I like what I see. After all these years, I have found the person I was searching for and I can get back to loving myself. No more happiness in the bottom of an empty plate. That was the same kind of happiness a drug addict chases when they are trying to get high. I am beyond that now. No more turning to food and bad habits when things become stressful. Because I can love me and I am able to stare at the face looking back at me in the mirror, I am a stronger person. I can love me now.

It was strange, this morning, staring at my reflection. I liked what I see. Bed-hair and all. I have not felt that kind of comfort in a long time. Stranger, I don’t know where you went or where you have been, but please, please, don’t go back there anymore. I have a funny feeling you didn’t like it much. I know I didn’t like it when you were gone. I can smile at you and you will smile back. It will be a true smile. One that is not hidden behind a puffy face and slits for eyes. One that is not obscured by more than just a chin. It is you. Beautiful you! While you are not completely back, I can see that you are there and you have that determined look. You are here to stay!

I love you reflection. I know you feel better and I know you are working hard to show the world that you are still here. That you still exist. Thank you for caring enough to come back. Thank you for taking the journey to get here. Thank you for being…me.

Hello Stranger! I am glad you are here. Stick around and show pride without fear. Welcome Stranger, you’ve been gone so long. I can never apologize enough for steering you wrong. Hello Stranger! Where have you been? Can it really be you? From way back when? Thinking back, I don’t know where you went. Did you hide? Was it time well spent? I am glad you are back. Our journey will see, just how we both can stay on track. Stranger no more, I love me. My reflection, I love, is staring back at me.

What do YOU think?

The Breaking of the Beam

Stephen King had it right.

In the writing of the Dark Tower Series, he foretold of the destruction of man via people using their minds to break the beams that hold our worlds together. He wrote about a group of people in a desolate wasteland who went to “work” every day by gathering in a room and concentrating on one thing or another all the while their mental activity is chipping away at reality and causing the erosion of society. This story started in the machinations of this author’s mind long ago.

Translate that into today’s world, this is exactly what is happening. While you sit there, staring into the device that you are using to read this blog post, you are using your mental faculties to chip away at the beam of reality. All the while, the world around you is falling into chaos and disarray. You sit there, for hours on end, focusing on this little gadget. From an uninformed, third party, point of view, it appears that you are just staring at an inanimate object. The world forgotten. Like abandoned homes and buildings, the more attention you pay to the gadget in your hand, the more cracked, disregarded, and uninhabited your life becomes. We, as a society, are essentially breaking the beams to our own realities and letting technology take over. In the stories I mentioned here, there is a mechanical being that controls a thing or two. In our life, it is the cell phones and the computers and tablets that are taking over.The Positronics of the modern age.

It is not to say that this can be reversed. It can. It truly can. However, it is going to take more than one voice to make it so. Even as I sit here and write to you about the startling reality that is going on around us, I am feeding into the chaos and disarray as I compose my message to you.

For all the naysayers that disagree, I urge you to ponder this: How hard is it for you to leave your gadget alone for 24 hours. What about 48 hours? Three days?  It is nearly impossible for anyone to admit that they can do this without worrying about what they are missing or what they are going to come back to.

Tell me, what do YOU think?

Its the little things

I haven’t written in a bit but this has been bouncing around in my head for a while. Time to show my human side and get it out. This post is not like my others and while I have an artist rendering of the exact feelings behind it, I am saving that for my next post. Pretty much because some art is NSFW and I want this post to at least survive any censorship.

About twenty years ago, I took for granted the image reflected in the mirror. I was about 130 and hated what I looked like. I have never been happy with me. Little did I know that one day, I had the power to change that. Fast forward to now, three kids later and a work at home job that challenges every healthy suggestion known to humankind. Oh. You also want to add approximately 70 pounds to that. I avoid pictures. I wear sweatpants all the time. It’s a daily occurrence that something will not fit anymore today. I am easily winded and love to have a plate in front of me. Yes. My name is Micaa and I am a flavorhog. (Remember that post? Ah, but I digress.)

I tried many things. Four daily miles on a tredmill for nine months. Still 200 pounds. Eat only fruits and vegetables for a year. Still 200 pounds. Hydroxycut…HGA drops AND pills, no sodas, no carbs, count calories, no fast food…all epic failures. I avpided mirrors and scales and stopped wearing makeup. I even made appointments for (and chickened out) lap band surgery, liposuction and laser fat removal. I had begun to accept the fact that being huge was what was going to kill me.

April 25, 2015. Someone who (apparently) was as miserable with themselves as I, said some really nasty things to me. While I wont give her the glory of repeating those things, I can say it hurt me to my soul. It made me hate what and who I was. It made me even consider going the way of the coward. (Like Robin Williams.) Instead, I sat and thought about it. I decided to use that primal self-hate and anger and use it to make a change. To show that person and everyone else that I am better than this. One of the things she called me was…fat. I can still hear her voice and it burns my ears when I am working out.

Motivation.

I set a pretty high goal. I had no timeframe for reaching that goal only that in spite of people being mean, I was going to make it. I asked people who had been working on a similar goal what worked and what failed for them and, to keep myself accountable, I told the wellness group at work. 

I found MyFitnessPal and got reacquainted with my tredmill. My huaband got an exercise bike and my son brought me a stepometer. I started using Your Shape Fitness on Xbox.  Everytime I became upset over those mean words or hated my own being, I worked out. I set a daily calorie goal and started. Even the wellness manager at work said I was ambitious with my goal. She just didn’t know my story. Did she?

I am three months into this journey. Can you believe I am only a couple of pounds from “halfway there?” My goal was sixty pounds to lose. I stay away from scales because I know it will be a caustic relationship. I weigh in once a month. There are victories here. These little things are now the motivation and the self hate is beginning to fade. Oh I still hear that nasty voice pushing me and thats great when I have a lazy day.
My list of little things….
1. My pants dont have to be “unrolled” when I stand up.
2. Things fit better.
3. Some things dont fit cuz they have become TOO BIG.
4. I can breathe.
5. I can scratch my back without assistance.
6. It’s not an act of congress to get up from sitting on the floor.
7. When getting laundry out of the laundry closet,  it is not wall to wall me. I have wiggle room.
8. My shoes are not so tight.
9. I have had to put seven new holes on my belt to make it smaller.
10. Friends notice the improvement.
11. My husband can tell the difference when we are snuggled on the couch on movie night.
12. My kids are all into making this work for me.
13. I have more energy.
14. I can sleep on my stomach..again.
15. When I get a cut or scrape, it heals in 7-10 days instead of nearly a month.
16. More water.
17. My skin looks and feels better.
18. When I smile, my eyes don’t disappear.
19. For the first time ever, I am beginning to like what I see in tge mirror.
20. Through it all…that person has gained a lot of weight and I am now smaller than her.
21. I almost consider myself a “skinny blitch.” (Before, I wanted to trip everyone who weighed less than 170 so I could laugh at them.)

There are so many more little things but if you celebrate these things in your journey and not the numbers on the scale, it keeps your motivation fresh. Yes. I still have a long way to go and it wont be easy. I WILL get there. Come heck or high water. #goalswillbereached.

What do YOU think?

Leeches

This world was designed to be a host for a habitat of pure consumers. Not only do they forage the forests, beaches, mountains, and deserts for sustenance; they feed off each other. Like leeches from the black riverbed, they find the weak or a target and suck them dry. It doesn’t matter if it is a life giving tree or a vulture (devourer of death.) They all take and consume.

Humans do it without remorse. In an effort to control that inate desire, these people are medicated and set to roam free umong us. The sheeple.  The unkowing. I am not saying we all are juat waiting to be picked off. Reality? There are few who fit that demographic. The rest of us are just biding our time until we can wear the leech skin. 

What happens while we are wearing the sheeple coat is we become unaware. So comfortable in the warmth that we fail. We become blinded and everything that matters turns to mercury and silently slips through our fingers. It’s killing us slowly.  There ia no realization until the damage has been done. While you can try to fix it, the scars remain and it makes you more deadly.

It makes you the one in the crowd with the white mask and pencil thin moustache. It makea you dangerous. We did an experiment in science 102 in college. I dont remember the topic but it involved controlled burning of trees and the survival of the fittest. Same concept here people. What that experiment failed to show us was that while the sheeple survive, they are damaged and hurt by those around them. The pain subsides but the scars never heal.

I don’t have any skewed view or digression for you today. Just a seeious observation.

What do YOU think?

Time to be serious: Leaving a beating is never easy. Mind tricks are the worst.

Note: Most of my blogs take about an hour to fork out. I find my inspiration one day and write another. It usually goes like this:

**Something happens and I say something silly or someone else says something silly or I just THINK something silly.

Insert thought: Oooh! That would be a good blog post!

The rest of the day happens…sleep, work, wait, I haven’t posted in a couple days. Let’s see, what ideas do I remember…..thinking….thinking….Oh yea, let is us do that one. (Yea, the inner voices say it like that.  La Amistad Movie Reference. I digress.)

Writes…publish.Voila!

HOWEVER!  This one took several days because I wanted to convey a message that is not very clear to the rest of the world. I really do not care that you cannot agree with what I say here. This will resonate with SOMEONE.  For those that get it, this is for you:

Recently, I have heard 2 different stories about people in abusive relationships. Both are entirely different and no, I do not know these women. One is a good friend of my Cal and the other one is a friend of a co-worker. The type of behavior that has caused pain for these women is uncalled for and certainly not deserved. No matter how much of a bitch you are, there are other ways to handle things not going your way. This brings me to this post. This is not intended to have a skewed view about how things work nor is it intended to be funny. Sometimes I am serious and need to put that serious side out there.

Long before I started blogging and definitely before Cal, (He is the best. I could not ask for a better man! J ) I was in a bad relationship and had “been there done that” and experienced some of the same things that these women are going through. It was a horrible experience. While this post is not reflecting on my own personal experience, I am noting this to show empathy. Pulling from that, I know that these two women are both strong and weak in the same soul. I want to discuss that and provide for you some insight as to what you can do as a friend, family member, or loved one to support them.

These women are strong in their own right.

This country takes a dim view on spousal abuse and domestic violence. It is never a pretty topic but is even darker for those who are enduring it. These women are strong in that they do just that. They endure. This is not something to be taken lightly. They are there and they live this nightmare and unless you are living it yourself in exactly the same manner, you will NEVER know what it takes to pick yourself back up and move on from an “episode.” They still have to breathe and wake up the next day. Whether they do it on their own or with help that they let in (we will get to that shortly,) they MUST go on. The ideal situation occurs when the person being abused leaves. It sounds pretty simple. But simple is far from what it will ever be. Instead, they continue to remain in the relationship. For the rest of us, that seems like the stupidest move.

But you DON’T know how it is do you?

The strength comes from knowing that while this seems bad…terribly, horribly bad, there ARE times that are good times. There was once love that was true and sweet and real to them. The good times are great and the bad times are horrible. It takes a great amount of intestinal fortitude for these women to remain in the situation they have found themselves. It’s also not quite so easy to walk away. They rationalize to themselves that there are so many reasons to stay and raw hope in the fact that their mistake will get better if they just stick it out. There are also things that are going on that the rest of the world is a part of that good intentioned individuals have no clue of which they are contributing.

I am talking about the ones that offer advise of “leave him, you can do better, what a jerk he needs to be castrated, etc” While this is the inner circle tossing these statements, they are not helping very much. Yes, it does need to be said that the sucker that beats his woman because his job is not paying him enough or just for the sport of it is an ass and needs to have his own beat…severely. That is not what the battered person needs to hear to make them choose to walk away. While it is good to give them this information and it is sage advise, they are also hearing that they made a mistake in the choices they made in a partner and that may make them feel even worse about the situation. Further, they are not hearing that you are empathizing with them. While it is difficult at best to do that, let them know that you may have your own opinion of what they should do but also that they have a friend if they ever need one and that when they discover they are ready to make the next step that you will support them all the way.  I know this seem crazy because they could end up in the hospital or dead but these battered people need to know that there are people out there who support them and that do not feel the need to remind them that their decision in a mate was less than perfect. Eventually they will come around and realize what they have gotten themselves into.

No, it is not going to make things better and badgering them about it is not going to help either. Instead, help this person rationalize to themselves that leaving CAN happen and that while it may hurt or is hard or scary, it WILL get better. Don’t be too pushy because it is that strength that will play the stubborn role and keep them there if you hack away at them.

These women are weak in a way different than perceived.

These women have been beat down and convinced by their partners that they are nothing if they try to stand alone. For those who are beaten, they are afraid of what may happen should they try to leave at the wrong time. Timing is everything here. Not only do they have to be mentally ready, they have to anticipate anything bad that may happen as a result. They know that the cops are not always easily in reach nor do they believe the authorities can intervene at the right time.

Those who are mentally browbeaten, they have a very weak constitution and are in the most need of self-convincing banter. They have to mentally feel that they are tired of all the drama and know that they are worthy without this person. Telling both types that they are better off is simply not enough for them to take the leap of faith. It is truly not that simple.

In summary, be there for these people. Brow beating them by inadvertently telling them that they made a bad decision or simply demanding that they leave the person they are with is not a step in the right direction. It is ok to let them know that you care and certainly ok to let them know how you feel but unless you have been there, know that what they just need someone they can vent to and yak at. This is their own effort at rationalizing that they need to move on. Until they find someone like that, they will likely continue. Also know that it will become tiring to hear and drag out longer that you would like. It is not you to judge, it is for them to lean on you as a non-judgmental friend until they are able to pick themselves up and move on. When they talk to you, it is an effort to let someone know and, should they almost make the “right” decision too late, that there will be someone there.

Unless you have been there before, none of this will make sense for you. For those of you who have or ARE still there, it is perfect clarity.  I raise my coffee cup to you. The battered. The beaten. The tricked. You will find your strength one day. Until then, I hope you find a good friend that will just….listen to you cry.

What do YOU think?

Mommas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys….(credit: Waylon Jennings)

This is for all the ladies out there who are lucky enough to have a man bring you to meet his family. On many levels, this is a big step. It is one for the relationship, your love, and you. It is an important step in the relationship because it is an indicator that things are becoming serious and this is more than just some fly by night romance. It is a big step for your love because he thinks enough of you to 1. Expose you to his family and the eccentricities and 2. It opens the relationship and you to scrutiny. It means he is prepared to answer for all the flaws found in the relationship and your personalitym it is inevitable, he will be drilled and asked a mollion questions the next time he talks to the parental units without you. Finally, it is a big step for you because you will see the environment that produced this man and give you insight for some things that may need explaining but you were too afraid to ask.

It is a good thing that first impressions are important. Most of the time, the first meeting will be brief. You want to look decent, use your manners and still be you. This can be hard for some personalities. That is ok. Just don’t be too nervous.

Now ladies, I want you to be aware of something. Your other half may be the farthest thing ever from a Mommas Boy. He may not even get along with his mother that well. There may even be a step mother that raised your love. Take to heart every single thing this woman has to say. This woman knows more about your man than anyone else on the planet. No amount of long relationships, exes, or best friends can have a more candid opinion about this man than his mother.

The point I am getting to is this; if she gets you alone, things may be said. Mothers are protective of their sons just like fathers over their daughters. There is one conversation that I am going to discuss that you really need to pay attention to. (I personally never had this conversation with Cals mom. So this is not one of those been there, done that things. However, ecperience makes us stronger and I learned over the years. Strength with experience works fine too. Be strong phenomenal woman….I digress.)

Should this mother take you to the side, offer you a cup of coffee at the kitchen bar, look you square in the face and say:

“I hope you are ready to love my baby.”

Sit up and take notice. What follows that statement will give you great insight to the future. More specifically, should she follow that up with:

“It takes a special kind of personality to be attached to a (insert you loves last name here.)”

You have three options. 1. You run. Run very fast and very far. 2. Politely stay out the visit and break it off later. Or 3. Hope you have the intestinal fortitude to take whatever this man may have happen and dish out lest you become so frazzled you will want to jump off the pier during shark season.

Its easier said than done. Just remember lovely lady. Should you have that presented to you, consider your strength. This man will test everything you are about and you have been warned. Should you accept the challenge…it is for life and nothung will be the same.

What do YOU think?

Self loathing

I have always had issues with self. I have cone to realize that I checked out of the self love department many, many years ago. I understood this today. I don’t know what caused this light bulb moment. I think it was the culmination of many things. Not sure where to start but here goes.

My self image has always been skewed. I imagine this is the same flaw that anorexics an bulimics posses. I say this because when I see people who are the same clothing size as me, I do not see this huge person that my reflection shows. I am sure that when I look at my own reflection, I see this fat person who is a whole lot bigger than what she really is. This disgusts me and makes me feel bad. Psychologists will likely tell me its a good thing I recognize that. Not beeing happy with the vessel which encompasses your soul causes a lot of inner conflict. For me is creates self hate and that is destructive. This where I have been for almost since I can remember. Before being fat bacame an issue it was some other thing. Why did I have nappy curly hair when all my friends had shiny straight hair or why was I a red head? No one else was. When I got into my teen years that damned whit stripe that appeared in my hair (off center like a cockeyed skunk) every summer and I had a pooch for my lower abs and not a flat stomach like everyone else. I hated it. I hated me. This has been a lifetime of self hate.

Fast forward to late teens ane early 20’s. I had very few boyfriends and the ones I did have were not nice to me. Called me ugly and would pick on me in front of the circle of friends I thought I had. This is where people don’t believe the bubble I lived in. Not much happened. I just existed and not much more. My first real “party” was not until I was 21 and it was the first birthday party of Cals that I went to. To this day, I have picture of us at that party on my desk. I was almost human. I have been in and out of serious hate with myself over the course of my whole life.

Tyler Perry’s Madea says “Honey how in the hell can you love someone else if you cannot love yourself.” Today, I finally understand that sentiment. It took a couple days of self loathing, too many beers and nearly a year of wandering in the dark to come to that conclusion. Know what else attributed to this life changing moment? It took the intentional trespass of someone whom I thought to be a friend to trample all over my feelings, heart, and soul. She took my very being and slammed it on rusty spikes of betrayal and then walked on it like it was an afterthoughtm she took pure bitch and rubbed my face in it then walked away laughing. What she did was unspeakable and hurt me beyond anything I can put into words. For that, unnamed woman, (you know who you are queen sandwich maker
There is your digression peeps.) I want to thank you. I forgive you for what you did. I forgive the threat, for what you still are. (Two meanings there.) And I forgive you for what you are. Also, I have a great fondness and love for you. I wish the best for you and yours. For you are a sister in kind and the divinity of the Mother Goddess is in you as it is in all of us. Prosper sister. I will take what you have shown me and learn from it ad return it to you tenfold.

As a result of this thing that was done, I fully understand that I will find peace only when I truly love me. I have started down the path to healing from the harm that was done to me as well as the years of being spiritually checked out. I know I have a long way to go and it wont be easy but I do know who will ride or die with me.

I know who is with me and who is not. I know my ride or die family and if some November Rain washes it away, I know I will be ok because I have discovered that I can get back up, pick up the pieces, and continue on. Also know that the bond I have with my Cal cannot be broken. His is my rock and nothing can break that. Any thing that comes along and tries is only temporary and external.

I am going to love me. I am going to fix what has been broken and move on. Watch out world. Its ALL about to change. I am strong and beautiful. I am phenomenal. I SHINE.

Whaylt do YOU think?

Sometimes the Reflection Is Prettier

Walked down to the pond to cast a few with Cal. He is such a wonderful man to go fishing with. He often reminds me how peaceful and serene things are when you are fishing.

Today, the water was pretty clear. Well as clear as can be for an inner city pond. Recently, the city had cleared out I the woods on the oppoaite side of the pond. This left for a clear view of the sky. There were a few trees along the edge that made for a beautiful scene that I first notice painted across the still surface of the water. I tend to space out and stare across the water when fishing. I dont think about much. I just try to tune into my pole to feel the light tug of a delicious bass on the end of the line. (Haha. Catch that? I digressed and you didn’t even know it. I bet Napoleon Dynamite caught it.) Any way, something made me focus at what I was really looking at. As I cast out my line, the gentle ripple came from the jig when it hit the water and it struck me. I am looking at the very beauty that nature tries to show us everyday. As I take it in, I cast my line back out and look up at the sky. I note that the crescent moon was missing from my painting on tge water but it still lacked something.  It was simply not as breathtaking as the reflection.

Reflection.

Epiphany.

The reflection was more beautiful than the sky. I found it confusing and fantastic at the same time. It made come to a complete understanding. Our reflections tell the world so much more than at first glimpse. It made me want to run home and look into the mirror. I wanted to find what I have been missing.

I wonder what I would find.

In the mean time, I cast my line…watch the ripples change the painting…and breathe in the beauty.  I know know what Cal means. Its not the quiet. Its not the being alone with your thoughts. It is the paintings you see which make you think and appreciate just that.

Revel in the moment for the ripples will change it forever.

What do YOU think?

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