More and better

Have you ever sat back and truly considered the magnitude of your own life and what makes any of us any more unique then the next?. Millions of people in towns, countries, cities, farms etc…all going through life at the same time experiencing similar, if not identical struggles, pursuits and hardships. We’re all trying to navigate through life the best that we can hoping to dodge the pitfalls and experience more of the joys as much as possible. I wonder if I’m the only one who’s considered that I’m just not as unique as I think I want to be, nor will I ever be. It sounds like a depressing thought, but is it? By today’s understanding, unique equals being a better version of yourself or having more than the next guy. And yet, even with that there is a never ending emptiness. Solutions include cosmetic surgery to perfect our flawed bodies, loans, high debts or overly stressful jobs so we can lavish ourselves with the finer things in life, only to find Someone has better breast implants, whiter teeth, better hair, fancier clothes, homes or faster cars. We replace each other and in a heart beat have a new “honey” or “baby” until the shine wears off on all the “new” and we’re feeling that empty, irritable and discontent familiar feeling again ….I sometimes feel like I’m living out the movie “Ground hog” day. Living the same day over and over except time exists in a vacuum and life actually is passing by.

Maybe, the answer isn’t about being “better” OR having “more”, making its about finding a deeper purpose in life. It’s no secret we are all aging and fight it as much as we want, youth is only appreciated as the last leaves begin to fall off the trees. In the end, what will it be that brings a sense of content completion? maybe, the answer about being unique is actually about making a difference by helping just one person or maybe even many. Im not just talking about the grande heroic acts of saving a life, housing a rescue dog, serving food to a homeless person or driving an addict to detox, I’m talking about a commitment to making the people around you feel special in a significant enough way that it impacts and shapes their life for the better. Maybe it’s your friend, daughter, neighbour or coworker or maybe it’s ALL of those people…..I think when I’ve surrendered to this thought and I’m past the notion of my aging body and the comparisons of my what haves of my peers around me, I will be able to sit back and think “ah, that’s what being unique is all about”.


Pin cushion

You know that saying we teach children “sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me”?, well, we were wrong. Words hurt and they can haunt a person for a lifetime. I realize that the saying was intended to invoke the power of choice and what we choose to allow ourselves to be affected by, however, I’m quite certain we can all recall a time when we were called something mean or hurtful for no apparent reason. For me, this was “pin cushion,” and yes, the once again infamous, PP authored this one. Out of the blue one day he called me this, and being dumbstruck i Asked him what exactly THAT meant. He said I was a pin cushion because Ive had a lot of pricks in me…..yes, you read that correctly….crafty aside, holy, how MEAN! (And not true by the way.)

I guess my message is….be responsible and selective with the words you choose. They represent who you are and they have the capacity to scar people….intentionally or not. Just Stay classy and let scum centre themselves out all on their own. .

'...and words can often hurt me.'

Lessons learned

When one finds them-self landing in familiar places, and I’m speaking primarily about relationships,chances are choices and patterns are getting repeated. At some point a person needs to stand back and take some responsibility for what they are doing that is contributing to this repetition. It’s sounds so simple, but when your talking about people that come “packaged” so differently it can be difficult to decipher.

As an addict would say, you must hit rock bottom first before you can desire change. Well I hit rock bottom in my last relationship and I do not want to repeat THAT again.

This are the things I tend to do….

Dumbing down. I catch myself doing this to bolster the confidence of the insecure guy I’ve chosen to be in my life. This includes pretending I don’t know how something works so I can endure their painful step by step, mike Holmes rendition of “how to”. Or overly complimenting him on something he’s done no matter how trivial, such as preparing a meal. Bravo, I make 365 of them a year minus a handful of take out, order ins and copping out nights.

Overly accommodating. I allow myself to become consumed with the overly demanding every minute of my time guy. This includes being patient when he has other things on the go, but prepared to drop any of my plans if my company is requested. Yuck! I hate even writing that I do that.

Easily forgiving and painfully understanding. How many chances to royally mess up is one guy entitled to. This includes anything from offensive remarks, aloof and indifferent behaviour, pompous acts of inflated sense of self importance and just one too many referrals or comparisons to ex girlfriends…..out!!

The Matador challenge. I tend to pick the “hard to get”, mysterious, “bad boys”. I suppose I used to think it was charming and funny to wrangle and bring home my wild boar catch and attempt to domesticate him through my “beguiling” lovability. It is an outgrown fascination that no longer serves. In the beginning. I tend to pull out all the stops in an over eager, pour out my heart kind of way. In essence, I over compensate in an attempt to prove how desirable I am. The more he holds back, the harder I try, until i reach my limit and accept his disinterest. This is where, the men I choose tend to latch on in an unhealthy, controlling, suffocating type way. No more….I now believe, I am worthy of being pursued, courted, pampered with attention and affection in a mature, non game like fashion right from the get go, not when I’ve got one foot out the door.

Peacekeeping. I find it necessary to avoid conflict, by being agreeable, giggling instead of objecting, and biting my tongue when being served a big pile of horse shit. This also includes settling. Any kind of settling including an unsatisfactory sex life – uh uh no more.

Excuses, excuses. My naive nature has allowed me to give men the benefit of the doubt for their shortcomings. This is an enabling quality that encourages men to keep their thumbs stuck in their mouths. grow up, be accountable and get over it. Speak the truth, and do what you say your going to do. Simple.

Ok. So…now that I can let all those annoying traits go, I think I’m ready!


As I wake up to a lazy Sunday morning contemplating life and well, literally solving all the problems of the world (ha ha)….it occurs to me how messed up I am and how much healing is required for me to be ok again after two years with PP.

I’ve been so focused on being validated about the abusive events that took place and immensely angry that I was replaced so quickly with someone I knew, whom I will refer to as the hefty moron (hey, I’m not being mean, I modified her last name with her band name, ok?) that I have not recognized how wounded I really am. Even admitting to that generates fear in me because of such an inflated sense of false pride and resistance to being considered a “victim”.

I struggle today because of what I have taken away after two years of emotional, mental and physical abuse and that is that I now conduct myself under a paralyzing fear of continuously attempting to keep the peace. Not to be too hard on myself because this was a realistic survival tactic to living in my circumstances. However, it is unhealthy and doesn’t serve in my relationships with people now. I’ve become so passive that I’m silently abusing and killing myself by not speaking up and expressing my opinion to the people I love, even if that means calling them on their shit and disagreeing with them. Even if that means conflict. The passionless existence I’m currently living in is because of me and no one else. Even admitting to myself that I can speak up and object to what someone else is saying or to how I’m being treated generates anxiety within me, which is proof that this is where my work lies.

In conclusion, if I am to be seeking passion, challenge and fulfillment in my life then I need to work on letting my wounds heal and prepare to parachute out of the safe zone I have been living in. LOOK OUT BELOW!!

Narcissism & abuse – my story

I hadn’t planned to rehash all the explicit details of my saga with my narcissistic/abusive ex (fiancé) for fear of sounding like a scorned whiner but I feel compelled as part of my healing process to stand up and speak out.

My story starts off two and half years ago when I met “PP” on an online dating site (mistake number one!) The first night we spoke, we chatted on the phone into the wee hours of the night. He was engaging, witty and very funny. I felt a deep connection right away. A couple nights later we met face to face, and there was something about him that was instantly magnetic. His charm, composure, ease, sexual energy-it was intoxicating. I was enamoured!

A few days later Meet Jekyll and Hyde. The first time I witnessed his alter persona I thought I was imagining it, over reacting or had somehow caused him to speak to me in such a callous and rude tone. It was as if I had just met a completely different person. The look in his eyes was mean and hateful. He spoke in such a way that I felt stupid, disgusting and that I simply irritated him. This was just the beginning of a relentless and repetitive cycle. He played games with me by behaving non committal, aloof and indifferent towards me. For nearly 4 months he showed next to no affection, would hang up on me if he was annoyed and make hurtful put downs about the way I spoke, how I dressed, how I parented, Where I lived, virtually every choice or decision I ever made was scoffed at. I tolerated most of it because I clung to the side of him that was charming and funny and believed him when he told me he had trust issues, suffered abuse as a child and been hurt by women. I should have seen this as a red flag and run, but instead I saw it as a challenge to win him over by showering him with love and reassurance. When I finally succeeded, the real abusive behavior officially began. His Jekyll and Hyde switch would happen more and more frequently, without any warning. He would twist facts, accuse me of things I had never done, make degrading comments about my body and my past and call me derogatory names. Things were always in turmoil and I felt constantly off balance. Everything he did, he accused me of doing. He would be moody and brooding and accuse me of being a bitch. One of his favourite past times was to spend time in stores looking at tv’s, cameras, gadgets (basically things we either didn’t need or couldn’t afford) . I enabled this past time partly to be agreeable and partly because I liked spending time with him. The “Shopping” excursions would usually end with him barking at me that I couldn’t make up my mind and furthermore, wasted his time (huh??, but I didn’t want to buy anything…)He would accuse me of misconduct all the time, when the truth was I was obsessed with proving my loyalty to him and winning his approval. I truly felt like I was living in a crazy world. Of course I stomped off on countless occasions vowing to never return, but within a day or so, his pleas of how broken he was without me and convincing story that he had changed would lure me back. He vowed I was his first true love and that my love was allowing him to trust again. I believed him when he reassured me that he was a victim of circumstance and he truly had a timid, but huge heart . ( stop gagging, this is what he said). Once back, the miserable, mean side would return almost immediately. He was obsessed with creating a public facade on facebook by proclaiming his undying love for me and showering me with compliments. While the attention felt wonderful, it was just an act. He would spend hours checking his “likes”, “comments” and monitoring my activity. There was a profound double standard. If I even touched my phone to check anything he would accuse me of being on my phone and on facebook all the time. I became petrified to even look at my phone. The only ones who ever really saw this miserable side of him besides me were my kids and his young daughter, who was so sadly ruined by him. When she wasn’t living in constant fear of his mood swings, trying to anticipate the next one, she was endlessly attempting to win his approval.

Time went on and the cycle worsened. Every special occasion such as Christmas, birthdays, Valentine’s Day etc always ended in disaster. The gifts I bought him were crap and stupid and nothing I did was ever right. On his birthday I made a cheesecake and brought my sister and her friends to see his band play. He refused to even speak to me claiming he was furious I brought HIS cake for everyone to share. The night ended after he gave me the silent treatment and then gave me the finger from across the room. The blues fest tickets I bought him for his birthday were dumb. He asked what made me think he’d want to do that? (Duh, cause your a musician?!) Another time he was furious at me when I came to see his band play because he couldn’t see me dancing on the dance floor. He accused me of deliberately situating myself so he couldn’t see me. Another time I tried to surprise him with a vintage $1300 guitar that he wanted. I got his friends at the music store in on the surprise by having them tell him the guitar was sold. He flew off the handle and embarrassed himself badly and when I presented him with the guitar he was wild with anger that I would compromise his friendship the way I did. Things like this went on, money was wasted and romantic getaways were ruined….. make ups always ended when he was ready to admit how wrong I was and that he was now prepared for me  to grovel back to apologize.  He would hold his cheek out as a sign that I was to seal the apology with a kiss.  YUCK! more at myself for actually doing it!.  He was so convincing in his version of a drastically skewed reality that over time I began to think It was me that was crazy, I questioned everything I did in an attempt to make sense of where things kept going wrong. Mostly, I learned my best approach was to remain silent. Things worsened six months into the relationship when my mother died. Then shortly after my father. On both of their funerals he acted up and made it miserable. He wasn’t getting the attention he needed and he felt left out…..

In between my parents deaths, on canada day, after a frustrating day of tolerating one put down comment after another from him, we broke out into a huge fight. Something in him snapped and he began throwing , shoving and pushing me around the house. He grabbed my hair and arm and threw me into a closet. Then dragged me down the hall, spat into my face and threw me down a small set of stairs while screaming at me to get out! Ok, so run right?? Well, I did but shock and disbelief clouded my judgement and I believed the notion that I somehow brought him to that point and within three weeks we were back together.

After my father died, the story takes a turn. There was a substantial inheritance being left to me and PP’s interest and effort took an upswing. He proposed to me two months after my father died and began lavishing me with expensive gifts. I suppose he was “investing” in me. However, these gifts came with a hefty string attached. Public acknowledgement on facebook and endless reminders and guilt about his financial hardship as a result of my gifts hint hint…hand over some money. He also began pressuring me about purchasing a home together or spending thousands to renovate his existing home. I felt suddenly thrust into a rush to buy something and our home hunting always ended in his utter frustration that I couldn’t make a decision. I began to panic. I wanted to use the money left to me to buy a home for myself and my four kids and was petrified that I would be entranced by him and lose everything. Break ups and make ups. In one of our brief break ups, in an act of desperation to ensure we were done, I had a one night stand with someone else. (I later regretted this and realized I only ultimately hurt myself). He discovered this “betrayal”, one night while reading my emails. In the middle of the night He woke me up by throwing a bottle of water in my face and dragging me downstairs to the computer to hear my confession. In hindsight, I had officially now given this man something concrete to hold over me, to guilt me with, as reason to call me whore, slut and c@#_!. as he wallowed endlessly in the pain of my infidelity. At the same time, the outside world saw a loving, zany and affectionate couple. What they didn’t see were all the horrific, callous and seething things he would whisper in my ear. Conveniently, all of his prior misconducts were magically erased because of my violation and he reminded me daily that I should be grateful that he even stayed with me.

Skip threw a lot more drama and almost another year of dramatic break ups, including a desperate flee across Canada in the middle of the night to escape. The results were always the same. I would buy back into his convincing tale that he had seen the light and “Ghandi” himself had visited and healed him. Back together again we’d go. It was always incredible for the first little bit. Passionate love making, adoration and attention. I felt like the most desired woman on the planet, but it would only last for a short time before the honeymoon walls would come crashing down. I felt that I had surrendered to this life of walking on egg shells and insanity. The stress had begun to take a toll on my health. I was eating poorly, not getting enough sleep and losing my support network of friends and family who just couldn’t understand the exhausting cycle I was consumed in. I had to remain silent about the agony I was experiencing or endure the consequences of his endless blaming on our failing relationship. Recurring thoughts of suicide as my only option out resulted in antidepressants. He respected no boundaries. If I was at an important event for one of my children and he was upset with me for leaving him out he would bombard me with  unrelenting angry texts. Fights would replace sleep and I would miss work or be too exhausted to do my job properly, and so on…

I’m not sure how I managed to make our last break up the final one. Besides involving the police (for the second time) to get him to leave, I testified to several close girlfriends of my attempt to break in hopes of receiving support, encouragement and simply to be accountable to someone in hopes that my chances of caving might therefore be reduced. I then proceeded to brick wall the communication. Blocked him on facebook, texting, emails and phone calls. Good things started to happen in my life almost immediately and I saw this as a promise from the universe, that If I could do this, my life would get back on track and I would find my happiness again.

It’s been almost 4 months since we broke up and I’m feeling physically healthier and more stable then I have in a long time. The hardest part for me is staying away from buying into his lies that he continues to publicly put out there for friends and strangers to see so that he can gain sympathy. The stories he’s weaved to gain support is all that he knows how to do I suppose. Nevertheless it makes me Feel ostracized, devalued and angry.

Bit by bit I am making my peace that it’s finally over. Lots of venting and reading things I can relate to have helped. When I’m feeling low I take comfort in the many messages I have read. My favourite is by the guru of  self empowerment, Oprah Winfrey, “TODAY, I TAKE MY POWER BACK!” I hope I can remember these words and NEVER fall into this place again!

#emotionalabuse #narcisissm #domesticviolence

Sexting and reality

In the early days after my elusive break up, a convenient distraction happened upon me.

Here is A bit of the background that led to it. So, there was this amazing dreamy guy (artist) that I knew back in my university days. He had this beautiful girlfriend and together they were this dreamy couple that made love look like it was meant to be. A real version of Hugh grant and Julia Roberts in knotting hill. They were the envy of everyone, including me.

Fast forward to 20 years later. We became facebook friends a couple of years ago and would occasionally chat and catch up on life. Still gorgeous in an understated way and Now a successful world travelling artist and guest teacher at universities around the world, who most recently landed in my town for four months. Oh Ya, and single!! Our innocent chatting and occasional flirting took a turn to intense, steamy hot sexting. At first, I was totally into this thinking I deserved to have a little harmless, carefree fun. However, he then wanted to get together and fulfill some of the fantasies we had created….”YES PLEASE” was my first thought BUT, there was this little voice in the back of my mind yielding caution – even after I told it to “SHUT UP!” Several times. It wouldn’t. Grrrrrrrrr!

I reluctantly decided that while “sexting” added a little spice and thrilling flavour to an otherwise dull day, it awoken some feelings that were trying to heal. Feelings of being worthless, de-valued, degraded and objectified. I decided, the cost was too high on this adventure, so sexy artist or not, this girl is going for something more in life. I did not get this far to sell myself out now!
My message is….if no one gets hurt, sext away but Wear latex and by all means, pull out first 😉

Just when you think you’ve moved on…..

Well, here it is, my first official blog.  I have come to realize that the incessant dialogue that goes on in my head needs a way out and so here I write.

The last two years of my life have been nothing short of a blur with the loss of my parents within two months of each other while being fully engrossed in an abusive relationship that I recently-and finally ended! I will refer to this ex as “PP” because well, those are his initials and quite appropriately that’s what he is….an immature referral to a dick (sorry).  I thought I was relieved to be out and ready to move on until I recently discovered that his ridiculous public and fake persona on facebook found it necessary to post that he – how should I put this – got laid on New years, with a mutual friend (or so I thought).  I think what angers me is that I have refrained from negatively campaigning against this abusive monster and attempted to maintain some dignity and respect towards the break-up –  I even wished him happiness and wellness and yet he finds it necessary to seek sympathy and imply that I dulled his shine (what?????) on FACEBOOK -really?? and furthermore he has just “received the greatest gift from the universe”….ie. Sex.  I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.  This man lives for approval and recognition and is a complete wolf in sheep clothes that has spent a lifetime playing the role of a passionate, big hearted artist that has been victimized by one woman after another…..he plays the part well – and the Oscar goes to PP!

I guess I should feel sorry for this new victim he will now torture with his narcissistic, abusive behaviors while systematically dismantling all of her self worth/self respect, and be grateful that I am free of him…….and yet, it still irks me


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