Don’t Take Shit From People

So I’m laying here tonight trying to relax after the week from hell. (Impending eviction)

Fumbling through my old Facebook photos, you know how that goes. you start nosing in on people you’ve lost touch with over the years to see what they’re up to. Tonight, mine led me to a face that I haven’t seen in over 9 years. My mother.

For the past couple of years, I’ve missed her. I’ve missed having a mom I could call up and ask for advice from. I’ve missed having a mom that would be there for me when I needed her. Most recently, I’ve needed my mother to deal with this illness. whatever it is is. Fibromyalgia, ME/CFS, something neurological. I really don’t know what the fuck is going on inside my body. I know I’m in early onset menopause, I know I have pretty severe osteoarthritis as it’s throughout my body and leaves me pretty crippled in the damp and humid weather. I know I have something seriously wrong with my spine and am waiting to see a specialist about it. I know I have PTSD.

I’ve also needed my mom to deal with my father. His in and out presence in my life. His oblivion to my pain. His inability to recognize how seriously he has damaged me.

Then I browsed through some more photos. Saw her and my stepfather got another dog. Got a new motorhome I see. It baffles me how my parents were unable to attend my wedding years ago (I’m divorced now, thankfully and am with the right person, finally) but are apparently able to travel in a camper. You couldn’t even send me a card when I got married.

I remembered how my mother was never there for me. When I called she couldn’t be bothered to take the time to talk to me on the phone. Her TV shows were more important. No matter if I was in a jam and needed help, or just really needed to hear her voice when I was down or needed life advice.

I had no one to go to for life advice.

I look at my stepfather’s smug face in his profile picture and remember how he always looked at me with contempt. Like I was gross. Some kind of fucking slimy garden slug. A garden slug with a bad smell. Yeah, that’s how I would describe it. Oddly enough, it’s the same way my stepmother always looked at me.

I feel like I’ve gone through tremendous mental growth over the past few years. I’ve terminated friendships that were not healthy, balanced or kind. I don’t need that. I’ve ended associations with people because I don’t share their views or ideas. I have different values, I have strong morals. something that seems to be lacking in this world.

Funny thing is, I didn’t get these morals or values from anyone in my family. Not my mother, not my father, and most certainly, not my step parents. I have absolutely nothing in common with my stepbrothers. For the most part, they’re egotistical, selfish, immature, and well… they’re kind of jerks. Who needs that? Nope.

I developed my own code as I grew up. As I made mistakes or failed, I learned lessons the hard way, on my own. Some values I received from my grandmothers. My paternal grandmother was a woman of faith who taught me about Jesus and the Bible at a very young age. I loved it. I found the time we spent reading the Bible together, I read it out loud to her because the printing was too small for her eyes, to be peaceful and reassuring. My maternal grandmother taught me about strength and perseverance. She taught me how to cook. Both grandmothers taught me to stand up for myself and, in their words, “don’t take shit from people.” They were sassy ladies. I probably get my sassiness from them as well.

No. Looking at my mother tonight brought me to a conclusion. A closure even. I don’t know this person, and she doesn’t know me. She’s never been that kind of mom you could call when you needed her. She’s never been that kind of mom that puts her (only) child(ren) first. She’s always been more concerned about her own needs, her own wants. It was proposed to me that perhaps my stepfather is too controlling. Well, yeah. he is controlling, sometimes an outright asshole but, I also know this. What my mother wants, my mother gets. My stepfather has always been a “Yes Dear” man. He’s not entirely to blame. My mother had a choice, and she chose to pretend I don’t exist. In the photo of my mother’s most recent lap dog, she’s a better dog mom than actual mom, I zoomed in on the shelf behind her. There were pictures of stepbrother one and his woman, next to it was a photo of stepbrother two and his wife. There were no other photos on that shelf. No, I’m sorry, their past dead dogs’ photos were there. But that was it. I didn’t make the shelf display cut. I simply don’t exist.

Last year, this would have sent me spiralling down the depression hole quicker than a squirrel up a tree with a cat after it. But tonight something in me clicked. I’m done grieving my father and my mother. It took some time, but I think I’m done. They’ve sucked up enough of my time and energy. No more.

I cut these ties.

I am just going to focus on building what I have with the love of my life. I’m going to enjoy some happiness for a change. As my paternal grandmother would have said, “Fuck ’em.” So sassy.

I feel remarkably stronger and lighter. My love is intact, my faith is stronger than ever. That’s all I need. We have overcome worse things in our lives, we’ll overcome this too.

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

S.

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Psssst… Hey…

Always Remember

Pssst.  Hey you.  Yeah you reading this.  You know what?  You’re special.

You’ve been through a lot which is partially what led eventually to blog and then stumble upon this post.  or maybe you clicked on it from a social media site,  from a friend or colleague.  Maybe you stumbled upon it from Twitter.  Either way; YOU ARE SPECIAL.

You are loved by someone.  Be it your partner, family, friends, pets, colleagues, online friends and God.. even if you don’t believe in Him.  You matter.

You are beautiful.  For all the cracks and flaws and pain and things that have changed you, scarred you even.  You are beautiful.

You are here.  Here now in one single moment.  A moment of self reflection and maybe a little doubt of my sincerity.  I assure you, I mean what I say.

You need to be reminded from time to time that you have an impact on other people.  Somewhere out there, someone admires you.  Admires an aspect of your personality that perhaps they don’t have the courage or resources to emulate themselves.

You need to be reminded that the people who matter, are grateful for you.  Your absence would create a serious void in these people’s lives and hearts.

You need to know you are appreciated.  If you’ve sacrificed, it’s not gone unnoticed.  Even if the people you’ve sacrificed for are too ashamed or prideful to thank you.

I would like to tell you thank you.

Thank you for your kindness/ help/ listening skills/ drives/ financial help/ making me laugh/ thinking of me/ including me/ the coffees and fancy drinks/ food/ love/ friendship/ support/ encouragement.

I just you might need this today…

 

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

 

Sam

 

Images

You’re Special  http://www.lovethispic.com/image/92476/always-remember-youre-special

 

Things I Do That Drive My Partner Crazy: A Rebuttal by Partner

Things I do That Drive my Partner Crazy: A Rebuttal
After posting my prior post titled Things I Do That Drive My Partner Crazy , my ever loving, ever so sarcastic partner “C” decided she would weigh in.  Here are her responses:


Random Singing.

Hey. I’m fond of the random singing! It means she’s in a good mood. So sing on, girl! “Singing” the entire Fairlight part of Running up that Hill isn’t singing – it’s bleeps and bloops. You’re making computer sounds for heaven’s sake. You are a Dot Matrix printer. Beep Beep. Bloop Bloop.

Eating in Bed. 

How the fuck a human manages to eat an apple in 5.1 digital surround sound cranked to 100 is beyond me.

Patience with technology.  

Most of our technology is stone-age obsolete bricks. Having fits about running Windows 7 on a third-hand $200 laptop from 2007 is just silly.

Free? Yes please! 

Collect all the freebies you want, love. I’m poor too. Pass the purse hot sauce.

I love my dog.  

OH THIS IS A STICKING POINT FOR SURE. I love that she loves her dog! Pets are part of the family!

Having said that – I’d be just as angry if a family member took a giant steaming sloppy dump on the floor for me to walk in at 5 a.m.;

I’d be just as raging if a younger sibling sat on my partner’s lap for 12 hours a day and totally clam jammed me at every opportunity.


I tend to collect things. 

You call it collecting. I call it knick-knack hell.

I’m a night owl. 

You say night owl, I say as long as I don’t wake up it’s kosher. That 3:20 a.m. alarm, y’all.

Also – I don’t call her horror and supernatural documentaries stupid. Anything that someone is passionate about and interested in is not stupid.

I say that those horror and supernatural documentaries *might* have a role in the screaming night terrors…

BONUS! THREE THINGS I DO THAT MY PARTNER HATES!

This face
Things I do That... This face

This face

This face 2

and

This face

This face 3

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,


Sam


(Graphic designed by me-Canva)

Looking For Love in All the Wrong Places

 

I have been looking for true love for a long time.  I grew up in a home where everyone made fun of queers and fags and dykes.  I had also always believed in God and the Bible;  a belief I shared solely with my paternal grandmother. At age 18 I began attending church, I was christened Roman Catholic so I attended a Catholic Church and sometimes Anglican with a friend of mine, and later on, United Churches, just really seeking The Word and guidance.  I believed that if I admitted to anyone that I had crushes on girls (as well as, girly boys) not only would my family hate me but God would too.  It took me until age 34, several churches and much praying before I eventually came out as a lesbian; I dated men until the age of 34.  I was never truly happy with any of them, I did what was expected of me.  I looked for a husband.

Hockey Guy/Stripper Fan

The first serious boyfriend I had was at age 20.  He was obsessed with hockey, Wayne Gretzky and stats so we’ll call him Hockey Guy.  I was never really physically attracted to him but he had a good heart.  I had originally planned on waiting until marriage before committing The Act but it didn’t work out that way.  We were best friends for more than 8 years, we even got engaged much to his reluctance, after being together for 7.  I was a heavy set girl at that point in my life.  From ages 20-30 I peaked at 260 pounds.  I think he kept looking for something better to come along.  He found it on the Internet.  What broke the deal was when he confessed to me that he had met up with this stripper he had developed a relationship with online, while on business trips to Toronto.  I felt betrayed.  It wasn’t the only the only time I had felt betrayed by him so I did what any scorned woman does at age 27.  I went to Newfoundland and slept with another guy, ending my relationship.

 

The Peeping Tom

The second relationship I had was with a guy in Newfoundland.  We’ll call him, the Peeping Tom.  This is the guy I cheated on Hockey Guy with.  I moved to Newfoundland to live with one of my best friends, and to get away from Hockey Guy so the break up would take.  I didn’t want to cave like I had the last time. This guy, (Peeping Tom), was purely a rebound.  I never loved him.  I liked him and enjoyed his company but..  I wasn’t over my prior experience.  In addition to his ever increasing ass size; seriously, this guy had the biggest ass I have ever seen on a man; I discovered he was a peeping Tom.   I packed up my cats and 2 duffel bags full of stuff and moved out to Edmonton, Alberta with a friend of mine leaving behind all my belongings.  He sold everything of value on EBay and threw out the rest.

 

Drunk Ass Man Child

At this point I have turned 29, I’m back in Nova Scotia feeling like a failure, and I am very much overweight.  I have zero self esteem and I am incredibly lonely.  I end up meeting this next guy through a mutual friend of ours.  We’ll call this guy Drunk Ass Man Child.  I noticed he drank a lot before we moved in together.  My lease had ended with a roommate I had and didn’t want to live with her again because she just wasn’t very stable.  I was quickly looking at having no place to live so I moved in with him.  Within a month I learned that he was a hard core alcoholic.  He would spend his entire paycheck on booze, and things like comic books and action figures and DVDs and CDs.  When it came my payday, it was time to pay the rent, the bills, buy groceries.. Yeah, you see where this is going.  I also learned he was abusive.  After waking up to find this asshat urinating on the wall in the bedroom one night I banned him from the bedroom period.  I learned to loathe this guy.  He’d yell at me and call me names and throw things at me and try to choke me.  The last time he put hands on me I left him.  He went to work one morning and I quickly grabbed the boxes I had hidden around the house for two weeks while I secretly found another apartment, threw all my belongings in said boxes, moved to a different address and changed my cell phone number.  I never spoke to him again.

 

The Booty Call Guy

By age 30 I had begun to lose a lot of weight and started exercising and eating healthy to try to lose the rest.  I started to feel pretty again and even had the nerve to ask out a guy from work who I had a crush on.  We’ll call him.. The Booty Call Guy.  We would get together once or twice a week but he didn’t want a relationship nor would he go out with me in public..  It turned out, I was simply a long term booty call.  The back burner girl.  He preferred younger skinny girls.  After a while, I came to my senses and stopped that.  He would continue to try and get me over to his house for a couple of years after that.  I declined.

 

Angry Little Girly Man

I then dated someone that I had liked for a long time.  We liked each other initially but we were both in other relationships.  (Hockey Guy).  We’ll call this fellow, Angry Little Girly Man.  Needless to say I was pretty excited when he called me out of the blue saying he was single and blah blah blah, we ended up dating for seven months.  I called it off when I got tired of his tantrum fits.  I got sick of him saying things like “you should wear less makeup” or “Don’t wear that, men will stare at you”.  At this point, I had lost 130 pounds, the real way.  I worked really hard to get that weight off and get in shape to gain back some confidence and I wasn’t going to let this little man with his own confidence issues take it away.  I moved on.  Every so often this guy still tries to contact me and I’m like, “Yeah, still gay, not interested.”

 

Creepy Dinner Guy & Ladies’ Panties

After Angry Little Girly Man and so many experiences ranging from disappointing to downright terrifying, I went on a dating expedition.  Online dating was getting really big so I decided to give it a try.  At one point, there was Creepy Dinner Guy, who took me to fancy dinners and then said he could communicate with Wolves.  The Psychoanalyst, (not really) he just always liked to say things like, “You know what your problem is..?”  My problem was that men just seemed annoying and pointless.  I was never really into any of the men I dated.  There was always a million things wrong, that annoyed me, that drove me crazy, that turned me off, that grossed me out.  I wanted to date women but was still afraid of being shunned by my family.  (Little did I know that would happen later over money anyway).  So I kept looking.  There was Music Guy who was really into music and collecting vinyl.  He was pretty cool and I enjoyed his company.  He wasn’t all hands either.  He was respectful.  After meeting Sweaty Guy and The Guy Who Wore Ladies Panties, I decided to give Music guy another shot, although I was pretty sure he was an alcoholic too.  We broke up after 3 months and I started seeing someone new.

 

Phoenix the Poet Crackhead

Phoenix. That was the guy’s name, swear to God.  He had entrancing eyes and his words were simply beautiful.  He was a published poet and always said all the right things.   He was a mess.  He had horrible teeth (what was left).  He was a crackhead AND alcoholic.  Double whammy.  That didn’t last long and we never slept together so, thankfully no harm done.  

 

Music Guy

Music guy in the meantime, cleaned up his act a bit.  We had kept in touch.  We lived on the same street so…  I ended up going back out with him.  At the time I remember thinking, “Well, if I have to be with a man, it may as well be Music Guy.”  We dated for three years.  We lived together but didn’t sleep together.  He slept in another room on a futon with the cats.  I came out of the closet to him at age 33.  I ran back into the closet, out of fear, for another 8 months.  I prayed more than ever before.  

“God, would you hate me, if I loved a woman?” At this point, I had met a woman and I knew I felt way more than just friendship for her.  It was intense.  Nothing I had ever experienced with a man.  During my months of praying I encountered a bright orange display of books at a local Chapters called “Bulletproof Faith: A Spiritual Survival Guide for Gay & Lesbian Christians.  A light went off in my head. You can be gay AND Christian!?  I took that as one of several signs that kept urging me to just be myself, whoever that was.  Stop pretending to be something you’re not.  You will never find true happiness until you live your life as your true self.  I found groups of other gay and lesbian Christians online.  I came out at age 34.

LGBT Christians

The Ex Wife

I dated my ex wife for two years before we were married.  On my wedding day, my father pulled me aside and said, “Are you sure?  You really want to marry a woman?”  I glanced across the street where I saw a group of guys taking turns jumping into a sinkhole that had formed on the side of the road.  Noticing the idiocy of that act prompted me to respond, “Uhhh, yeah.  I’m sure.”  I did love my wife but our relationship always lacked the passion and affection I had hoped for.  She wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as me claiming my night terrors kept her awake.  We were very different people.  I wanted to work on our marriage and building our life together; she was consumed by gossip and money and talking to other women.  She cheated on me after about a year of marriage.  Then again and again.  We split in 2014.

 

The American

The American was introduced to me through a mutual friend.  We had some things in common (namely we were both nerds) and we were both going through divorces so, we bonded.  We dated for a few months before moving in together, which I didn’t really want to do.  I wasn’t in love with her, I was still grieving the loss of my marriage but I needed a place to live and neither of us could afford our own place.  After being together for 7 months, again with the separate bedrooms, her visa was going to be revoked as her ex wife was beginning their divorce proceedings.  I think she knew I wasn’t in love with her which probably played into her decision to go back to the USA early.

 

My Soulmate

At this point, I’m 40, disabled and a soon to be divorcee.  What a catch.  I really had given up on ever finding love.  I’d tell myself, It doesn’t happen for everyone.  My time has passed.  My looks are going, I see wrinkles.  I’ll just live with my dog and hopefully find roommates along the way.  Whatever.  Then I met this girl.  She was cute and confident and funny and sassy and sexy.  Well shit.  She probably won’t be into me though.  I was wrong.  Our first date lasted four days.  I didn’t want her to leave and she didn’t want to go.  It was weird.  I was absolutely hooked on this broad.  In turn, she seemed to be pretty sweet on me.  She got a job in a different province a few months later and the thought of losing this woman… Killed me.  The first time she experienced my night terrors she simply spooned me until I drifted back off to sleep.   We talked about everything.  We liked the same things, we laughed A LOT.  There was passion and affection.  She was loving and thoughtful.  She listened to me and rubbed my body when it hurt.  It got so I couldn’t fall asleep without her.  THIS was what I was looking for.  Nope.  Not losing her.

 

We moved to Saint John a little over two years ago and we’re still going strong.  She is my absolute best friend in the world.  I love being with her and am happier with her than I’ve ever been with anyone.  Ever.  We are such a great match; she is truly my soulmate.  We got engaged a while ago and hope to get married next year.  As you can see, I looked for her for a very long time.  I had to kiss A LOT of frogs to find my princess.  I have to laugh at that because she is the farthest thing from a princess.  She’s a tough little broad with a sarcastic wit and a sharp tongue who likes heavy metal and war games.  She’s definitely a keeper.

 

How many duds did you go through before you found your soulmate?

 

Live Humbly, Be Charitable, Live Graciously,

 

Sam