Torture Taught Me to Love Myself

I will not start this with a lie. I will not say I don’t think about you from time to time. I won’t say I don’t wonder if you’re better now than you were, even though I’ve heard you are worse. I won’t say I am over you. Unless, maybe I am.

It’s a difficult emotion to be stuck in. It’s not you, it is the “relationship”. It was the “relationship” that opened my eyes. Yes, you were involved in those conversations that went well into the next sunrise, but it was not your words. Yes, you were involved in the events that lead me on the right path, but it was not you that put me to the right path.

I despise that it was you. The “relationship” stirred the serotonin and created inner strength I was unfamiliar with, but accepted graciously. It pulsed my breaking heart, one pulse..I love you..two pulses.. I hate you.. three pulses..Come back. Confusion and self doubt were your specialty. Casting your love/hate narcissistic spells into my atmosphere that I inevitably absorbed. I was torn by the very fabrics of my soul into what seemed to be multiple people, because how could one person feel so many contrasting emotions? WAS I CRAZY? Yes, probably. But you.. you were something. Something entirely different, almost demonic yet tantalizing. You were the abomination of my relationship life. But, I wouldn’t change that experience for the world.

Because of your behavior, I learned to monitor my own. Because of your psychopathic, narcissistic self absorbed thought processes, I learned to think before I speak. Essentially, every horribly cruel and manipulative game you played with me, I want to thank you for. And I am sure the love of my life, once I meet him, will want to thank you too. You made me be aware of who I was. Initially not because I was worried about your actions and behavior, but my own, I almost believed you. I almost thought I was crazy. My family watched you try to convince me that I was crazy. But I thought I was in love, I didn’t listen.

The “relationship” was the most valuable personal learning experience I’ve ever went through, and I paid dearly. Months of non-closure, heart break, and confusion, SO MUCH CONFUSION. What did I do? Who was I? Was I really the person you convinced me I was? No, of course not.  “Once psychopaths have drained all the value from a victim—that is, when the victim is no longer useful—they abandon the victim and move on to someone else.” (Snakes in Suits, 53) Once you moved on, I did my research. You, met not only every qualifier for a psychopath in a relationship (even once sending me the definition of a psychopath), but every horror story I read… was like a page out of our book. A book that I did not burn, but filed away. A “How Not to Get Trapped” again category I started, because of you.

I would not change any of the abuse, torture, emotional distress, even physical distress you caused me, because it taught me just how strong I truly was as a female. And once I figured that out.. the doors opened and I learned to not only admire who I was becoming, but I learned to love myself, faults and all.

So thank you. Thank you for being so damned crazy. You were the best thing to never happen to me.


Reflections- The Core of Who I Am

Everyday, at various times and locations, regardless of circumstance or surroundings, I have a moment. Sometimes it’s a profound moment of clarity, sometimes it’s the exact opposite leaving me giggling quietly to myself. Sometimes it happens when I am laying on my bed, on my back, wiggling my toes on my bed as my dog mimic’s me and I fall in love with her all over again. Sometimes it hits when I’m driving as fast as legally possible from work, putting as much distance between me and my stressor as possible, and the joke from an employee finally hits me, making me look like a mad woman as I laugh out loud, alone, in my car.

We all have these. Reflective thoughts, taking each and every moment for one more stroll through our minds before filing away. I just happen to cherish mine.

Life is crazy complicated with outside forces pulling us all apart in so many different directions. Remembering who you are, remembering to feel, occasionally need to be a conscious effort on our part when the risk is losing yourself in all of the chaos. Those very short, private moments we have to ourselves are the most valuable time any one person can have for their well being. Naturally family, work, friends, responsibilities are all components to our souls.. but so are we. Individually, alone, privately. I am the key to my health, happiness, and honor. No one can take that from me, I own this. I own me.

When you find yourself running to the restroom for a few moments of me time, or stepping out away from people for solitude, cherish that moment. Cherish the reflection that you will inevitably have, because after all, isn’t life a movie and those moments the edited scenes?

Much ❤

All you did was love someone..

“But truth is, all you did is love someone. That they are incapable is not a reflection of you.”

Thank you learningtolivelikewaterblog. This was a very profound statement to share with me during your own daily progression to love and wellness, and the appreciation goes so far.

We, as humanity, have so many obstacles in life to overcome to even begin the process of not only loving someone else, but ourselves as well. It took me 30 some years to learn to love myself, and during those years, the question “How can someone love me when I don’t even love myself” tip-toed through my head, casting doubt to their words of affection. Did they mean it? Probably. Did I believe them? No.

Until HIM. And just to say upfront, this being the first post about HIM and my struggles and realizations during the HIM time, I DESPISE the fact that my most personal, life changing and self growth moments are associated, with HIM.

In reading others’ struggles with relationships, and the damage that can be done, the love that can be lost, and the happiness that can someday seep back in, I found the strength to speak the words my heart has been holding hostage for over a year and half.


I too, will speak. When I lasso these words into realistic and understandable sentences, they will find their way into written words.

Here is where I start telling my story.

Until then,

Peace, Love and Chicken Wings.

But Mom.. it’s my life

I believe when this is uttered out of any child’s mouth, it’s regarding going to the park, going on a date, choosing to go to college, the amount of alcohol one consumes or in defense of sitting on the couch all day while the parents still pamper these CHILDREN.

But what happens when both mother and child are adults.. well then, you get me. I am the sum of every child being raised by a single mother stereotype. I love my mother. I love her so much, that I have put myself in a position that those words “I’m a grown woman mom, if I want to sleep in until noon on a Saturday after a long week of work, damn it I’m gonna” (did I mention I do not live with her??) are a thought EVERY Saturday. I have put myself in a position for so long, that reality in that woman’s brain has become warped and I do not know that the truth will ever be known. She’s SO good, sometimes I have to do a retake on my memory to make sure it didn’t happen just the way she has shared with the entire town.

Funny thing is, I’m the oldest of 4. And I am the only one that jumps everytime she needs anything. I am the only one willing to go through the nonsensical drama, sometimes multiple time because she doesn’t remember tormenting me two times before. All of my siblings joke at the fact that I am the one always “taking one for the team”.

My mother has bent over backwards for us, she made growing up without a father memorable. She out-did herself on so many occasions. Problem is, we (I) am reminded of EVERY SINGLE TIME. Not so much while growing up, but now that us kids are grown, I have to wonder if she forgets she already guilted me for that, on a few occasions.

I love my mom. She has been such an incredible parent. I just wish.. she’d let go alittle bit. Just enough so that I can take the chances that I know will make her proud. After all, I am her daughter.

Begonias in her hair

End of the work week, and things are winding down. Everyone around my office is smiling, shoulders are relaxed, and  conversations are flowing. It’s Friday. So in my elated moment of non-influenced happiness, the begonias lifting their petals to my chin, begging to accompany me to my office even if only for an hour prior to my departure. I know when I come in Monday, the petals having found their way to my desk, the H2O sustenance will have evaporated, and the beauty will have started to fade. Not fade as in disappear, but fade in the way that Marilyn Monroe’s beauty would have faded should she still grace this planet. All of this sits well with me. The left behind begonias still sitting on their stems firmly rooted in the ground will not miss these two, and if they would, they can deal. The hour of happiness this brings me just may be more important to me than the tears of the other begonias that will inevitably fall to the ground.

Enjoy your Friday. And remember, to feel.


Fallen stress petals

Life. In all it’s beauty, newly found treasures and the still unknown depths of this earth, one thing stands true. Life will go on. Stress and fallen petals will pop us and fall every day. My challenge is learning to deal, cope, reconnect with my inner peace that I discovered only a awhile ago. Capturing these moments, innocent life forms within this planet not affected by the day to day stressors we people do, that is my meditation, my yoga, my drug. Breathe, this too shall pass. There are so many paths that I can take here, I can yell, be pissy for no exact known reason, cry, run away.. but no. I will pick up my camera, and just go. Just go until the weeds are above my knees and the crickets dance off my toes. No roads, no human contact, just a field, and a flower.

So what happens when I can’t get to that happy place… well, today happens.



Life is about the little things

Even in the darkest of nights, the twinkle of the stars are bright. Even if you can’t see them from your current location, or situation. Someone wise once told me, “Life is short. Do you want to be remembered for all of the things you wanted to do, or all the things you did?” I take that to heart, as everyday, I try to live every moment to the fullest. Documenting through photographs, words, feelings, even sounds. Every sense I possess is in this game of life.. and I will prevail.