I spent most of my adolescents hearing “pain is beauty.” Not only was this message delivered verbally but also through the actions of my role models. I was surrounded by beautiful and glamorous women growing up. It rubbed off a little despite my mostly Tom boy ways. Pain IS beauty. We wax, wear some of the most uncomfortable clothing, pierce our ears, and tolerate those killer shoes until the end of the night. For what? To impress a mate? To show off to our friends? To feel better about ourselves? As women we are flooded with images of the ideal body, of other women who are seemingly flawless. We desire that same perfection. You see models on television, in magazines, Pinterest, and facebook to name a few. We think that’s what men want and what other women (our competition) will be envious of. If we only could see how flawed our views are. There’s a huge difference between self expression and trying too desperately to achieve a completely unrealistic ideal. You’ll never be happy with yourself if you chase what is impossible. Plastic surgery leads to pin pointing more “flaws” and continuing to reconstruct the body. It’s a never ending vicious cycle of perfecting the imperfect. Why? Why do we do this to ourselves? Is so much of our identity wrapped up in our appearance? This is flawed thinking and a corrupt society. We are so afraid of judgment and rejection we strive to be something we’re not. Be flawed. You’re lovely flaws and all. Skip wearing makeup for a day and feel the freedom from your outer image. Stop depending on your outfit and hair to define you. Let your personality and intelligence express your identity. Love yourself for exactly who and what you are. Fuck society, work on loving yourself every day. Someone loves you just the way your are, whether you’re having a bad hair day or not. Pain is beauty. Really? I don’t need to hurt myself to feel absolutely stunning.
Month: May 2015
Intuition.
My gut instincts hardly ever lead me astray. I have a rather strong intuition and it’s almost always right. Last night while working in the jail I got the feeling something was off as I approached our maximum security area to pass medication. I had a feeling something was going to happen. I had told the deputy before passing meds to a particular inmate about this feeling. He offered to pass meds to the inmate through the bars. The inmate protested. This put me on even higher red alert. I was sure I was just being paranoid. I’ve never had this problem before. I arranged his medication into a small med cup and approached the door and small slot I pass the meds through. The inmate approached as well. At a solid 6’7″ and approximately 280 pounds he hovered over me. His eyes were always dark and absent due to his mental illness. He reached his hand through the slot tilting it slightly sideways to make it more difficult to drop his meds into his hand. I hesitated. I tilted the cup to drop the med and as it fell the inmates hand jutted forward and up in attempt to grab my arm. The good thing about being paranoid on red alert is the cat like reflexes. I dropped the cup and jerked my hand away just before he could grab me. He stormed off into his cell mad as hell that I was victorious in my attempts at self preservation. My heart was pounding. The deputy later told me he repeatedly mumbled that he was irate with me for not screaming and was trying to break my “twiggy little cunt” arms. I was told later that night that a month prior said inmate successful broke both arms of another inmate through the jail cell bars. My intuition saved me from serious injury and what could have been a fatality. Always follow your feelings.
Neighbors.
Well the folks accross the street got into a shouting match today. This isn’t the first time this has happened. I live in a neighborhood full of elder people so for the most part it’s pretty peaceful. Except for us noisy hooligan youngsters that live here. Hahaha, we typically don’t make a peep. Typically meaning only during our amorous hours. I’m sure we piss our neighbors off sometimes though. That’s the problem with inner city living. We know each others personal business. This particular fight the woman shouted, “I’m not helping you with crap anymore” and stormed inside the house while the gentleman punched the siding. They knew my son and I were outside playing but it was quite the scene. Initially it made me feel bad to see a couple in turmoil. But I quickly reminded myself they have been married for many years and knew how to patch things up. I admire them for their dedication. It also made me appreciate my own relationship. For a young couple experiencing the struggle of achieving our dream career and our goals we rarely fight. We get stressed out together but seldom take it out on one another. We haven’t broken up or left the vicinity of one another out of anger or grief. We stick with each other talk and work it out together. We debate and we agree to disagree and go on loving each other to the fullest. We do not play childish games like the cold shoulder, we never withhold love from another and we give our undivided attention. I couldn’t be happier with the partnership we share or the teamwork we divulge. Both of us faught with our previous significant others like cats and dogs. We both put in more effort to fix it than them as well. That’s why we work. Every day we put in equal effort. Our love has equilibrium. We are two very different people that decided never to give up on one another. Moral of the story: every life event has a lesson in it. Whether it’s personal or a neighbor.
Brief Thought.
Occasionally my son plays the lets annoy mom game. He repeats every word I say until he knows I’m thoroughly annoyed. This is a child’s game. When an adult does it it’s flat out ridiculous and the adult look like a fool. Be authentic, not a second rate mimic of someone. It’s pathetic and it shows how truly miserable with yourself that you are.
Energy.
I have days that are down right rough. Where nothing goes the way I want it to and not as planned. I’ve had heartbreak and frustration. I have had annoyance and anxiety. I had a lot more of them a year ago and for some time before that. I was depressed and struggled with the simplest things in life. We have all experienced times where giving up seems like the only option. I’m glad I never did. I wouldn’t change my past for anything. I learned valuable lessons from heartache and misery. Instead of letting it make me bitter, it has made me better. I can’t remember the last time I had a bad day. Last year I decided instead of adding years to my life I would rather add life to my years. I feel like I’m more alive and awake now than I have ever been before. Today was a great day, yesterday was fantastic and the day before that was a dream. I feel like all those times my parents told me it would get better this is what they were talking about. I’m still a work in progress, I’m still making strides to achieve my dream career and make more money to provide for my family. I’m still in the process of cleaning up after the last catastrophic event in my life. But damn today was good. I feel at peace with myself and where I am. I feel a deep contentment. I finally have real and true friends, most of which are at my maturity level (older haha). Tonight I went to my friends Tupperware party and had an absolute blast. Of course there were margaritas and fajitas involved but still. Those margaritas were the best I’ve ever had, made with all real fruit. We laughed and told stories and hung out with all of our children. It kind of makes me sound like a square but I’d much rather spend time with those adults than with people my own age who drink until their sick and act like total fools. Fun isn’t going to the club it’s being able to achieve utter bliss from the people you surround yourself with without mind altering substances. I know, I’m a square. I get pleasures from more of life’s simple things. Good people and intellectual conversations are what I find fun. My man feels the same. We can sit at home and do absolutely nothing but talk and laugh for hours. I love honest people like him that are true to their nature and up front. Good natured people that can teach me something. That is how I want to spend my free time. To wrap it up I made a link today between my happier mood and the people I choose to surround myself with. Energy is contagious. The more positive and powerful energies you surround yourself with, the more you improve your own.
Libel.
A good writer cross references and uses their source to write only the complete truth. False statements published about a person is LIBEL. This can result in a civil suit. Do not publish anything that is not strictly an opinion statement or absolute scientifically proven TRUTH. Basically check yoself before you wreck yoself.
libel
Copyright © 1981-2005 by Gerald N. Hill and Kathleen T. Hill. All Right reserved.
Like Father, Like His Father.
My ex saw his son today. During which he spent the entire time on his phone. Father of the year for sure. All because his mother and myself were begging him to fix his sons insurance. Which didn’t get fixed today, of course. And when you ask my ex he made an appointment but it’s a different day every time you ask. No surprise there either. He claims he wants to see his son. Great! Finally after over a month of avoiding him and dodging responsibility. My current boyfriend and the man that actually provides stability for my son disagrees completely with my letting him come and go from our sons life as he pleases. He says that he contributes to his health or well being in no way shape or form. I’m trying to be a good mom but when is enough, enough? My boyfriend makes valid points about my ex and the company he keeps. But I’m torn both ways. Always have been. I’m not the type to ever keep him from his biological father as long as he’s trying. The thing is, he gives up every other month. What is that teaching our son? Daddy only loves me when it’s convenient for him? I’m not good enough for daddy? I’ve heard my son say daddy doesn’t really love me. I’ve heard him disown his biological father to his friends. I will never say anything bad about my ex in front of my son. I remember a time when my mom spoke unfavorably about my dad to me. She didn’t realize that half of me was him. I’m part him. She was speaking badly about me and that broke my heart. I tell him daily that his dad loves and misses him and that he’s just very busy. I’ll make excuses for my ex just to save my sons heart from a few more tears. I know what’s best for my son and no one else can tell me what’s best. I’m a damn good mom and I’m proud of myself for not letting my emotions towards his father get the best of me. But when is enough, enough? Do I let his fathers poor decisions and unloving actions into his life? Do I let him see first hand his dad’s true colors even though it’ll break his heart? I’m afraid there’s no right answer. Everyone in my life including my exs mother warns me. They’re all skeptical of his fathers true intentions and don’t trust him at all. Do I give my ex yet another opportunity to fail? To disappoint? To hurt the one person that means the VERY most to me? Yet again I find myself saying that’s out of my control, I can only do my best. I sleep soundly at night with a guilt free conscious.
Passion.
About last night, it was more than amazing. I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. I’m still tingly all over. The only high I’ve ever needed and ever been missing. It’s hard to wipe this stupid smirk from my face. I relive it in my fantasies moment by moment. The way you looked at me. The way you demanded I look you in the eye. The way you forcefully positioned me. The way you so gently held me. It satisfied me to the core yet left me desperately yearning for more. I can’t get enough of you.
Bucket List.
So much to do and definitely not enough time on this earth. Fortunately I’ve already crossed a few things off from my bucket list. I’ve been to Hawaii, swam with sea turtles and a manta ray, went snorkeling, been to Universal Studios and Disney, watched Humpback Whales breach water and swim with their young, been to Texas, stood on the bridge from the movie Selena, been to the Alamo, been to Mammoth Caves in Kentuckey, been to Makers Mark Distillery and hand dipped in wax my own whiskey bottle, been to the Grand Old Opry, been to the Mall of America, been to San Fransisco and crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, and been to Mt Hood in Oregon. I’ve done a lot of traveling for someone so young. I’ve experienced many different things and feel so blessed to have seen what I have. I swam in the Pacific, Atlantic, and Gulf before I was 16. I owned my own home at age 23. I’ve lived a lot. I have a lot left I want to experience before my time expires. I would love to learn how to hula dance and belly dance. I want to learn how to blow glass from a professional. I’d love to travel the world and have my own lengthy list of place to see and cultures to experience. I want to walk the Great Wall of China and ride an elephant in India. I want to go on an African Safari and see all of Egypt. I want to see the Abydos Kings List, the pyramids at Giza, the temple/tomb of Nefertari. I want to watch the waters of the Nile flow. I want to see all of Australia and swim by the Great Barrier Reef. This list could go on forever. I would like to write and publish at least one novel, My Grandpas biography. I want to tattoo most of my body by famous tattoo artists including Kat Von D and Sara Fabel. I want to master MMA and boxing/kick boxing. Id like to be with my man when his music takes off and becomes international. Id like him to be by my side through all of my bucket list including our own little private version of a bucket list (wink, wink). I want to experience it all. I want to float in the Dead Sea. Id like to visit Santorini Greece. I want to get paid to model for a tattoo magazine. I want to get my cosmetology license. Id like to have numerous degrees from different universities. Id like to learn how to fly a plane. I want to go on a mission trip and practice medicine in a third world country. I’m very ambitious and this could go on forever. I just want to truly live. To experience all this world has to offer. I have a passion for life.
Abuse.
http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/7151678
The very title of this article speaks volumes. Just because he doesn’t hit you doesn’t mean you’re not being abused. And just because he doesn’t hit you now doesn’t mean he won’t. I’ve been a victim of both physical and verbal/emotional abuse. My very first serious boyfriend, besides my ex husband that is, would drag me from room to room by my hair, scream at me constantly, and force me into sexual situations. He would scrub the makeup off my face before his family get togethers or scream at me if I wore makeup. He alienated me from everyone I loved. My family thought he was a good guy other than my youngest sister who wasn’t a fool. One night, things got heated, he was about to punch me directly in my face until in a flurry of activity he was tackled to the ground. We were at one of our local parks at the time and I had snuck away with my best friend because he was being “crazy.” It took me a few moments to realize who tackled my boyfriend. Who in the hell rescued me?? Unbeknownced to me, it was my future husband, someone I’d be with for ten years. Someone I’d be so love struck with I’d be blind as hell for him. If he doesn’t hit me it’s not abuse, right? Wrong! Oh it was all rainbows and butterflies in the beginning. He courted me. He walked me home from school, kissed me on the cheek, vowed undying loyalty to me and would dream of our future with me. I didn’t expect it to be what it became. He was a really great actor. A fantastic liar. So good he believed himself. He was a dream. He tried hard to be a part of my life. But I didn’t cave in to his sexual advance for a long time. There was too much trauma from the guy before. Until one night he down right begged me to have sex with him. At the time it was romantic but in retrospect it was a tool. He was marking his territory and sealing the deal. That night I made love for the first time in my life. I fell even deeper in love with this young gentleman. I was his, without any doubt and without any faltering. I was trapped but happy about it. It was blissful. Young and dumb and full of bubblegum. Little things started to happen. I’d catch him in tiny lies but wouldn’t say anything at all. After all he was perfect right? Wrong again. It turned into a battlefield when I discovered the truth. His stupid little girlfriend that saw him as an immaculate perfect gentleman and boyfriend now saw him for what he really was. Ignorance is bliss and innocence. Well my bliss and innocence died in the most gruesome way. Not only was he having sex with his most recent ex girlfriend but also two of my “friends.” I didn’t do anything to deserve that. Months apart and we had found each other again. He swore it would never happen again. That he wouldn’t lie to me like the day he came to high school with hickies on his neck. I believed every word before that but once one of the ladies came clean my belief in his was shattered. I was skeptical from that moment on. After this we were good for a while. Then I heard about him getting naked in the back seat of a car with another girl and having sex with her after prom, two distinctly separate times. This time I did what no lady should do, I was out for blood and vengance. I gave him a taste of his own medicine. Ohhh but I was the only one in the wrong according to him. Abusers blame everyone else for their mistakes. I was so ashamed I accepted the blame. And there we were yet again in our dysfunctional circle of bliss and grief. This story is so complex and we both did some destroying. I always rationalized it with he did it first. I was wrong. I should’ve protected my own morality and I sunk to his level devastation after devastation. We were young and dumb. But then I started to grow. I started to see my own moral flaws. I got better. I learned to trust him. Yet he continued. Thirteen different girls on multiple occassions. They call that serial cheating. I let him back, love blinds the mind and awakens the heart. Forgive, forgive, forgive. My mind became bitter and resentful. He called me every name in the book. He manipulated me time and time again. It was always my fault he was jealous. He used my past against me and I was never allowed to bring his up because that was my fault too. I walked on eggshells for him. Everyday afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing because he’d leave me. He once told me I’d never be anything more than a cockholster. He belittled my fashion sense and my music. He degraded me and my dreams. He manipulated our friends into thinking I was a bad person. He alienated me from my friends and family. I was a prisoner in my own home. Never allowed to go out without him and if he went out I was to stay home and tell him everything I was doing and anywhere I went and I had to send him pictures to prove it. He was jealous and would create paranoid delusions about me cheating when he was away or I was at school or work. He would have full access to my phone while I was never allowed to see his. I wasn’t even allowed to wear makeup or its piss him off and he’d ask who I was getting pretty for. I wasn’t allowed to talk to men outside of my family members and wasn’t allowed to add any on facebook. There was a time I wasn’t allowed to have facebook. He was my warden, my capture and I was his hostage. I was always too afraid to admit this. I was afraid of him. He always rationalized his tendencies by saying he was afraid of losing me. He said I was the best thing he’d ever had and the best he would ever get. Even after he had cheated on me and I witnessed it, the very thing that ended us, he would get drunk and beg to have me back. He would tell me he doesn’t love her and he only used her. I got strong, I didn’t fall for it that time. I left. He was afraid of losing me. It’s funny how our fears manifest themselves. Control and manipulation. The blame game, jealousy and threats. Name calling and striking fear in another’s heart. Lying and cheating. That’s abuse. Recognize it before you fall victim too. It’s hell, ten years of absolute fucking magma hot hell. I couldn’t be happier to be apart of something healthy and functional for once in my lifetime. My ex is self destructive and toxic to other people. He will have you blinded until it’s too late. Open your eyes, recognize the warning signs and save yourself. You’re the hero/heroine of your own story. He would have you thinking I’m the crazy one, that I’m toxic. Read up on verbal and emotional abuse. You’ll see the truth and him for what he really is.
The Mad Mind of Coraline 