Puzzling....

So, last night he says to me, "You taught me something tonight."

At the time I smiled and acknowledged the remark but wasn't sure what he meant but figured it would make sense when I thought about it. Or that perhaps he was just being nice.

As I am cleaning up, I ponder that remark. And, for the life of me, I have NO clue what the hell he meant.

I scan back and replay the evening. I did a bunch of little hostessy stuff for him. When I saw his glass was empty I took it from him, refreshed it, then brought it back. I... sigh. I can't think of anything I did that TAUGHT him something. Merlin had this nifty Champagne bottle opener thing...was that it? All the guys really liked that. Maybe THAT is what he meant.

Off and on through the day I ponder that comment. Douche Bag always made me feel like such a moron and if I ever even attempted to teach him something or just share a fact with him he would get irritated or downright start to yell at me:

YOU THINK  YOU'RE SO SMART BUT YOU'RE NOT!
YOU'RE TRYING TO MAKE ME LOOK STUPID!
YOU STUPID CUNT DO YOU HAVE TO SHOW OFF ALL THE TIME?

blah blah blah

etc etc etc

So here I am with a man that  not only says to me, "You taught me something" but also is NOT angry about it.

I feel like a Vulcan pondering this new experience.

I really want to know what the heck I taught him. I am probably over analyzing this but this is a pretty huge thing for me. To not be yelled or screamed at for actually educating someone about something.

One more scan.... Arrival, took his coat, got him drink, chat chat chat, blah blah blah, he read some of my writing that others had been wanting to see...but that doesn't teach anything...got him another drink, blah blah, he poured me some water, dinner, sigh...?...blah blah...dessert, tea....lalalala....presents (he got me the funniest card! I cracked up reading it...best card ever)....blah blah...nothing. I got nothing.

It would have made sense if he said he LEARNED something...cause then he was almost definitely talking about learning about my writing but he said TAUGHT.

So. No clue. At a loss. I suppose I'll just have to ask him.

I am so diggin' this not getting yelled at thing. A gal could get totally used to men treating her like that. Oh...wait...I AM!  :)

GREED

I have seen a number of people arguing this entire Wall Street Occupation for days now. I sit back and watch like a tennis match because, in my OPINION, no one is really addressing a key point.  PERSONAL GREED. Oh yes, we have heard it from the mountains about the big evil rich corporations and how bad and awful they are. But, until my fried David Harris posted this today, no one had stepped up to smash the sacred cow of the masses: their OWN greed.

“The proletariat masses that are looking to shift blame off of their own sorry shoulders need to look in the mirror and see that they are equally to blame for the current state of the economy. People losing their homes because they accepted a mortgage payment at 95% of their monthly worth, quite frankly, DESERVE TO BE HOMELESS! Fuck 'em. No one held a gun to their head and made them sign a mortgage contract. They had the data in front of them, and were so blinded by the notion of owning their "dream home" that it never occurred to them that maybe, just maybe, they couldn't afford it. This whole nation lives beyond its means, and now the public, the irresponsible sheep that they are, are reaping what they've sewn. And as for the "criminal banker" that gave them the mortgage? All they did was say "Here's the deal. Do you want it? Yes or no?" The public is to blame for this... mostly. Was the bailout a load of shit? Of course it was. No argument there. And after the stupid bailout, with the current administration touting increased taxes for the rich, who could blame them for pocketing what they had? I would have done the same thing. If you're going to take what I have coming in, of course I'm not going to spend what I already have. I'm hanging on to it until you go away.” 

~David Harris

Many years ago, I sat in a little office on a home site, wanting to own my own home. The sales lady asked us how much we made annually and we told her. She wrote down….50k more than we said. We stopped her and corrected her. We did not make THAT much money.

”Oh….no worries,” she said, “We just do that for the finance people.”

“But won’t the finance people calculate whether or not we can afford the home based on that number?”

“Well, of course.”

“And if you put that number it won’t be an accurate analysis of what we can afford?”

She looked at us like we were morons.

“Look, I am just trying to help you here….don’t you want this?”

Pause….

We did. We wanted a home very much. We were so sick and tired of living in an apartment. Carrying groceries up flights of stairs. People jumping and stomping above us. Indian curry smells wafting from below. We wanted our own place. So bad. But…not that bad. She tried desperately to make the sale. Even invoking the “everyone else is doing it” clause.

We walked away. And tried again. Time and time again we got sales and finance people pushing us to overextend or just flat out lie.

I am not a super genius. I am not brilliant. But I am smart enough to know that if I only make $10 a month and my mortgage is $20 dollars a month, lying and saying I make $30 a month AIN’T GONNA PAY THE FUCKING MORTGAGE!

How many people did that? Let those sales people suck them in and talk them into ignoring the truth because they were so greedy to have that home so they could boost their ego or make their wife happy or impress the fellows at work?

How many of those protesting RIGHT NOW are those same salespeople who knew very well what they were doing was bullshit and did it anyway to line their own pockets.

That wasn’t the corporations. Those sales people could have refused to be dishonest. Those people who bought could have done just what I did and said, “No thanks. I can’t afford that.”

And it’s not just houses. Look at credit card bills… Yes. Some people hit hard times and used them to buy groceries and put gas in their cars. I am not ranting at them.  But I am pointing a slender delicate razor sharp red fingernail tipped one at those who loaded up on things they didn’t NEED out of GREED:

• Video games and systems
• Expensive furniture
• Designer clothes, shoes and bags
• Jewelry
• Clutter from: Pottery Barn, Crate and Barrel, Ikea, Best Buy, or Target etc etc etc
• More expensive clutter from more expensive stores.
• Trips they could not afford
• Crap for their whiney kids they can’t say no to.
• Expensive gear/electronics/smart phones etc.

This is not something I have gone into but another huge disconnect with douche bag was his attitude towards money. When I first met him he was (or appeared to be) very responsible with his money. If he wanted something he would save up for it and buy it with cash. I was delighted that he seemed so responsible. Problem was, he simply had not had the means to be irresponsible. Once he got that first credit card it was like he went mad. If I said no, I was a bitch. If I tried to point out that he already had three game systems and with him being laid off we didn’t need a fourth he would yell and scream and rant. He wanted EXPENSIVE everything. From his tequila to his sweaters to his cigars. And when a time came he had to PAY for it all he ignored that and wanted to spend more. I tried to talk sense into him and he would pretend to agree with me…but then he would just buy something else. Tell me, “honey, I paid the AMEX bill this month so you don’t have to worry.” So stupid me just believed him.  I am the type of person that when I went to London, the plane tickets were paid off before I went. London was paid off before I went to Hawaii. Hawaii….well….STILL paying that off. But I am not going anywhere else until I do. His perspective was, “Who cares? We will all die in 2012 according to the Mayans so why not?” Yes. He said that. He actually said that. And when he met the people who over extended themselves and then just filed bankruptcy and it was all hunky dory…. I lost what teeny tiny amount of influence I had in trying to get him to be responsible.  How many times did he go behind my back to buy something? Too many.  How many times did he hide the credit card statement from me? Too many. Should I have paid more attention? Yes. But I thought I was supposed to trust my husband. I thought I could. I thought wrong. (This is a heads up to any man who wants to get with me that I will never just trust them with money again and will always have my nose in that business and an iron grip on the purse strings).

What so many people are failing to address is this:

The big evil corporations didn’t force everyone to want their products or services. No one is forcing Absolut vodka down your throat when you can just as easily get the cheap stuff.  Look around at the people who are out there wearing designer this and exclusive that. Who idolize the celebrities carrying $14,000 purses. $14,000 for a fucking purse? Bitch, please. I don’t think ANYONE who carries a $14,000 purse should be allowed to open their mouth about corporate OR individual greed.

If you are not one of these people, then you know I am not talking to you.

But I bet you know them.  There are plenty of people out there that are greedy and have no sense of personal responsibility. THEY are the ones that gave that power to the corporations/designers/etc. Those people made money, sure. But they made it off the GREED of the herd. And the herd wants to ignore that and sweep it under the rug.  At least I am honest about my own greed and want and desires. But I see so many others who aren’t.  I am the 1%. That’s true. The one fucking percent that says it like it is. Greed is not “bad” or “wrong” or “evil”. It’s what you do with that greed and how it affects yourself and others that is an issue.

Greed can be a motivator or an impetus or a catalyst. Or it can be a curse, a sickness, or even your death.

As a great man once said, “Indulgence. Not compulsion.”

Next time you see people complaining, take a long hard look.

Next time YOU complain….take a long hard look.

If this is not applicable to you, then you know that.

But if it IS….then you know that, too.

What this looks like to me is that there is a large percentage of people who were greedy as all hell and got screwed by their own greed and are now pissed off they can't keep their crap or get more. This is not applicable to everyone but many other people are now being asked to pay THEIR bill. Perhaps when people start to live within their means and stop giving power to the corporations they rage against....the tide will turn. If you want to hit them where it hurts: be responsible and hit them in their pockets with your right to say no to their crap, their marketing, their overpriced goods. This is not all the fault of the corporations. The people who allowed this shoulder some of the blame as well by feeding the machine as long as it gave them what they want.  Now they all want a special code to type in for free energy, free money, free level ups or immortality. 

Life is not a video game and you can only cheat for so long before it bites you in the ass. Take responsibility for your actions and the consequences of them. And don't get caught up in the propaganda that is spewed by the media or those who don't want to own their own role in the mess.

That is all.

But Does He Know What You Look Like....?

"I married you even though you aren't that pretty or thin....most men wouldn't have."
"I could leave you because you gained some weight....but I won't since I am a nice guy."
"I wasn't worried about him wanting you...I mean....really...he was just messing with you."
"I don't worry about you cheating on me. It's not like many men would want you."
"I kind of like that you aren't perfect because I don't have to worry about someone wanting you."

And on and on and on and on....

I like to think I am a smart woman. I am academically, I suppose. But after 12 years of hearing things like that ad nauseum.... I recognize how my thought process has been skewed by his words. He was never mean. More just like he was kidding or joshing or reminding me what a great guy he was by settling for/with me.

Then, it got worse.

"When we were in France, I was ashamed to be seen walking with you. Embarrassed for me and for you."
"I can't possibly get hard around you. No man could."
"Not even I am generous enough to love you despite your looks."

Etc.

I think the final straw came a few months after we had seperated. He had come over to spend a few hours with our daughter and he immediately had to brag to me about how many women he had bedded and how happy he was with how amazing they looked and how wonderful their bodies were. He was bragging and going on and on and then paused dramatically to inquire how MY love life was doing. I maintained a calm and cool face while inside I was screaming, "Love life? Love life?  I don't have time for a fucking love life. I am now a single parent with no child support working a full time plus job in a high stress environment home schooling our daughter on the side and trying to get a house ready to sell and legal papers drawn up to divorce your sorry ass and besides all that you fucking raped me twice the last night we were together so it's not like I can just go out and fuck some guy like I'd order a pizza or go trick or treating you stupid fucking......"  Etc. But...I just said it in my head.

He started to dig at me. Sort of this sympathetic tsk tsking that...oh he's so sorry, he shouldn't have asked, he sort of forgot how much harder it would be for me to find someone to have sex with considering my looks and age etc.  I was incensed but maintained calm. Desperately wanting to refute him but being on the spot as to how, I mentioned that Ace and I were discussing getting together but hadn't finialized the plans yet. His eyes positively fucking SPARKLED as he said,

"But, does he know what you LOOK like?"

I have been sprayed with OC spray in a tear gas base and kick boxed for three years in the 90s so have taken a number of kicks and punches to the gut but I have never in my life felt the breath knocked out of me like I did when he said that.

I recovered with a "Yes." To which he rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah. Sure."

Then off he went to play a board game with his daughter.

It does not help when HIS perspective/opinion is reinforced by the media, marketing, and the plethora of men I meet in real life who are all obsessed with perfection and sometimes down right mean if you don't possess it. I actually had a man come up to me in Starbucks all smiley and flirty and sexy. He acted like he was about to introduce himself. Instead he purred in my ear, "You have such a pretty face....too bad the rest of you doesn't match".

I should have kicked him in the nuts. The only thing stopping me was the assault charge and potential loss of my clearance if I had.

Now. I am not a horrible ugly hideous woman. I have healed enough to say that.  I have some wonderful men in my life who know me, know what I look like, have spent time with me and know I am not young, perfect, that I have scars and am not skinny and a few wrinkles around my eyes.  Captain Awesome loves to wrap his arms around me and hug me. Thomas thinks I am luscious and delicious and beautiful. AM seems to enjoy finding excuses to touch my shoulder or stand so close to me I can feel him pressed closed. Ace is ready for action as soon as we can sync our geography. Even my mystery man spent several hours giving me deep passionate kisses and is looking forward to our next date so that he can give me more....and even more....

I recognized my brain was "washed" so to speak. I recognize the "truth" is not what I thought it was. However, it's a process to change the default. It's a process to not cry when I look at myself in the mirror. (He used to make fun of my nose all the time...I am almost to the point where I don't think it's hideous). I tell others and they look confused. My nose is normal. Cute. Perky. Adorable. FINE.... But when I look at it, I see a "witch nose" as he would call it. It took two men who care for me to sit me down and convince me I did not need plastic surgery.

I wrote this today because I had a very bad panic attack. Anxiety attack. My daughter has a dinner at the country club this evening as a graduation for her manners class. She was picking out which dress she wanted me to wear. I was doing fine but for some reason I started to shake and get a lump in my throat and feel like I was going to cry. Why? At the thought of how horrible I would look. At how ugly I would look. I was ashamed to even leave the house and torture others with my appearance. Of course, I kept this all in and didn't say a peep to my daughter. Don't need to spread my nuerosis to her. But it was a struggle to pretend to be all chirpy and happy and excited. To not come up with some excuse not to go so I didn't have to be seen and embarrass HER.

I took deep breaths. I washed the dishes...a sort of zen calming thing to focus. I sat down to write this piece to work things out in my mind.

I know I am not horrible. I know I am actually rather pretty to some men. Some men even think I am gorgeous. I look forward to the day I can see myself as I really am and not how he made me think I was. 

Perception....

Last night I had an interesting moment with my daughter. She has this book that she loves and has read cover to cover hundreds of times. It is called “Body Drama” and is one of the books we use for her home school lessons in health and science.

There is this two page spread with around 20-30 naked woman on it. All different sizes, shapes, proportions, colors, and compositions. Big tall thin girls with no boobs, short thin girls with huge boobs, etc etc etc. The point of the page is to show how “real” women look and are all different. So the moment occurs when she is looking at the spread and points to a girl and says, “I think that’s what I am going to look like, Mommy.”  I think she picked well and fairly accurate considering her body type, composition and her current exercise level (she runs and does gymnastics). It was a normal girl with smaller breasts (unlike mine) and I told her the only difference might be that she may or may not get a little extra in the boob department depending on whether or not she had genes around that from me. No problem. THEN…she says, “Which one do you think looks like you, Mommy?”  I was frozen. My daughter is seven and I do my best to not talk about my own body in negative terms even though my ex did it. I keep things upbeat and when she tells me that I am beautiful I agree with her and say, “Just like you!” I keep my own neurosis to myself, in other words.

So I am looking at all the women on the page and I zero in on the biggest, fattest, most enormous woman. Okay. To be honest, I looked for one BIGGER but there wasn’t. I did one more scan trying to find a bigger woman and my eyes did glance across this one gal who was a bigger gal but had pretty curves like the woman in the chair that I had posted a pic of a few days ago… As I am pondering this and wishing I could look like her because even though she wasn’t thin or “perfect”…I thought she was pretty. Apparently I am taking too long to answer so my daughter asks me, “Mommy, do you want to know which one I think you look like?” Loaded question. My gut wants to say “NO” but as a mommy, I say, “Sure, honey.” And expect her to point to the same biggest fattest one on there because I am being honest with myself that this is, indeed, what I look like and it’s not going to upset me if my daughter calls a spade a spade and I won’t get mad or upset because there is no reason to it just means I need to work harder and do more and and and and….

She points to the smaller more curvy girl.

I was stunned. I thought to myself that she was just trying to be nice but, really…anyone with a seven year old knows they just call it like they see it. I was very quiet and she was smiling and asked if I agreed. I hummed and pretended to be studying them some more and asked, "I don’t know. What about this one?" 

I pointed to the original one (biggest and fattest) on the page. She looked at me like I was a moron or just being silly and said, “Oh, no. You don’t look anything like that, mommy. You look like her…” and pointed back again to the smaller one. Now, keep in mind that she did not pick a toothpick or a super model or an athlete’s body. She did pick a woman that many men would consider “fat” but (like that girl in the wicker chair picture), not immense or elephantine. I smiled and said that I thought she was right and she must be since she knows what I look like.(We shower together and do girly stuff like try on clothes and outfits).

This morning, I was taking my shower and I bravely looked at my naked body in the mirror thinking that by some magic my perspective would be fixed after that moment with my daughter. Sadly, it wasn’t. I wonder to myself WHY can’t I see what she sees? Why can’t I see what others tell me they see? But somewhere in the back of my head I hear this soft little voice. Of the woman with the soft white skin and pretty curves and strawberry blonde hair on the third rown down….and she says, “You aren’t as ugly as you think you are.”  I have decided she is right. And that’s the first step towards maybe one day being able to see through the fog and filters that are there now. One day….

But she is there now….and I actually feel prettier. Even if I can’t see it yet.

MEMO TO DOUCHE BAG

06.03.10

MEMO: This memo is being reissued because apparently all parties did not receive or read it.

Let it be known that as of the 6th of December in the year of our Lord 2009, you no longer had any say over me, my actions, my behavior, my decisions, or my life. I do not answer to you nor do I have to fulfill the contractually obligated sentence "obey" as per our wedding vows.

Once YOU walked out on ME you, in effect, committed breach of contract and that contract became NULL and VOID. I do not have to love, honor, or obey you anymore. Ordering me around and demanding I do things and then getting uppity when I ask simple questions was a delightful perk you enjoyed for 12 years. Unfortunately, you do not seem to have realized that when you give up the girl, you give up all those benefits.

Moving forward, some advice: I am not your maid, secretary, or mother. If you want me to do something you will get alot better response if you ask nicely and not have a tantrum when I ask clarification questions (which are often needed due to your track record of lack of follow through). Don't bitch at me because you have destroyed your own credibility. Furthermore, ranting about how you no longer care and I can simply do it all myself does not strike fear into my heart, simply reminds me why I refused to take you back.

If you act like a child, I will treat you like a child.If you act like an adult, I will treat you like an adult. My response to your attitude is entirely up to you. I am sure my voice is lost amongst the roar of adoring women and your own ego so this will fall on deaf ears and blind eyes. But, it has been said.

With all due disgust and disdain,

Josephine

Shhhh...Don't Tell...

Once upon a time there was a girl. She was innocent and kind and pretty naïve. She had only been with one boy in her ENTIRE life and that boy, while decent, was rather dull and apathetic.  As a more experienced adult woman, she would learn a more proper label for that boy would be “submissive”. And she would understand why after a while…things just weren’t working out with him. Then this girl met another boy. He was older. Who was not submissive. Who whisked her off her feet. Who courted her and charmed her and spent a significant amount of time trying to convince her that he was an amazing man. He was charming and funny and popular.  He called her sweet names and would make a point to really connect with her and tell her how wonderful and pretty and smart and awesome she was. When the boy asked her to marry him, she was so happy. Because he always made her happy and she thought this was a dream come true.

So she married him and….and things were great for a little while but then he went to work on the road and traveled a lot. She didn’t get to spend as much time with him but wrote that off as one of those sacrifices a good wife makes when a young couple is starting out a marriage and trying to make it. The years on the road passed fine enough. He was never really home very long for there to be a problem and when he did get cross or angry…he always seemed to have a valid ready excuse.

As she was raised to be kind and understanding and didn’t want to be one of those bitchy nagging wives, she tried to extend the understanding she thought was her duty. He was working very hard and he did apologize when he did get grouchy which really wasn’t THAT often…Then he came off the road and things were kind of odd. He seemed to be angry more often then she remembered from their days of dating. Suddenly, he seemed a different person. She tried to respect that he quit his traveling job to be at home with her and the transition to a new career might be a bit stressful so she tried to be understanding and supportive.

Years passed and his blow ups that always seemed rare at first got more frequent. She used to joke they were once a quarter but now they were once a month. Then once a week. Then several times a week then… Then one day she woke up and realized something was dreadfully wrong…but had no idea how to fix it.  You see…he only did these things to her in private. In public he was the charming funny swell guy who knew what to say and how to say it.  She was afraid if she tried to tell people about the fact that just an hour earlier he had been punching holes in the walls and calling her a cunt…they would not believe her.  He was already acting like nothing happened and surely would once again minimize the entire situation if she tried to “tattle”. “No one will believe you….” So she sucked it up and figured this was the whole “worse” part of “for better or worse”.

She tried to rationalize it by telling herself he never physically hit her. Oh, sure, if that wrench he threw at her had hit her then perhaps she could claim abuse but it hadn’t. She had been a coward and ducked and if only next time she could be brave and strong and let him knock out a few teeth then perhaps she could have real visible evidence. Perhaps then they would believe her and he could no longer hide behind that “nice guy” mask. She found herself wishing he would hit her. Break her arm. Perhaps squeeze her arm so tight it would leave bruises so she would have some proof…but he always caught himself and pulled up short. So she went along like a zombie wife trying to figure out how to get out of this mess when he had her convinced no one would believe her.

As a Satanist, we are often reminded not to complain. Or whine. Or bemoan a situation. Get off our ass and CHANGE it. So she tried. She tried being nicer. Kinder. More understanding. More accommodating. More anything… More like the woman he claimed he would love if she could just be. But no matter how hard she tried…it was never enough. Never.

The last year was the worst. He pretty much ignored her. Which she grew to like because if he wasn’t ignoring her he was disgusted with her or yelling at her. How many friends did they go to dinner with that he charmed and delighted and entertained while she sat silently with a fake smile plastered on her face? She lost count.

She got so tired. And so sad. And felt so helpless. She imagined going to tell people what he was doing and pictured them minimizing her as he would always do. “Oh! Your husband is grouchy?” They would laugh and chuckle (as he always did) and tell her to get a grip. “Oh, he yells every once in a while?” Please…she pictured them rolling their eyes at her like he did if she tried to voice her unhappiness with his treatment. For so long she remained silent because she was afraid no one would believe her.

She was afraid everyone would call her stupid (like he did).
She was afraid everyone would minimize his behavior (like he did).
She was afraid….of everything after a while.

Finally, he made a mistake. They usually do after a while. And because she was a smart girl, she took advantage of it. You see….he LEFT HER! He made sure to tell her how awful she was. How she had ruined his life. How ugly she was. How worthless, stupid, and disgusting she was. How he could no longer even pretend to want to fuck her (which she thought was pretty funny considering how he had for sure had his way with her the last two nights in a most demanding, aggressive, and angry way…)… And then he left. She was in shock for a day. He had no idea that while he slept the night before he left…after leaving her bruised and marked by his bites that she had been ECSTATIC that she finally had evidence! She could leave! She had packed a bag for herself and one for her daughter while he slept and hid them in the trunk of the car. As they are driving to breakfast and he is telling her he wants a divorce she starts to cry. The egomaniac thought she was crying because she would miss him and didn’t want him to go and loved him. He had absolutely no idea she was crying with relief. Pure unadulterated relief. They were on their way to breakfast with her family for her birthday. She wanted to make sure he officially said he was leaving in front of witnesses so she could start that one year clock ticking immediately.

She spent the rest of that week making phone calls and hiring an attorney and getting her ducks in a row. His cocky ego made it through the end of the week when it turns out the woman he left her for decided she didn’t want him. Ooops. She watched his private messages (and printed them out) as he told people he would simply come back to her and that she would take him back because she was so weak and dependent on him and he was just THAT awesome.

Funny thing was…she didn’t.

She said, “No.”

And suddenly, the tables were turned.

Suddenly, SHE was the one in control and with the power.

He didn’t like that very much.  The behavior he once sought so hard to control so that only she saw it started to slip out in public. He grabbed her wrist so hard at the gym one night it hurt for weeks afterwards. He screamed at her in front of her family and their eyes grew big and round and shocked at his rage and they were stunned. “Is THAT what you lived with?” “We had NO idea!”

She found a therapist who specialized in situations like hers and he started to help her learn that abuse happens even when physical violence isn’t used. All those things he did like punching holes in the walls, throwing things at her, calling her names and belittling her…all those were abuse.  At first she was loathe to accept that…that…that WORD. “Abuse”.  She felt like it made her sound weak and stupid and all the things he said she was. But she is learning that he let her think that to keep her quiet.  It allowed him to continue to treat her badly and be unkind to her.

Some are probably wondering why I wrote this NOW. Tonight? Because. Because of a post on my Facebook page today by Nic Blasphemer. He said, “lol. no human being is a piece of trash especially not one you made a child with, there are a lot of confused and unhappy souls in the world but that doesnt make them trash. so you guys must also harbour resentments if you feel the need to trash him publicly. Grow up girls :)"

I read that today after sitting in the library and reading “The Verbally Abusive Relationship by Patricia Evans (I recommend this to anyone who is or has been in one). At first I felt shame when I read what Nic wrote. And then I stopped myself. I spent TEN years of my life AFRAID to speak out that I was being treated badly because I was afraid people would do EXACTLY what Nic did. Minimize and belittle my feelings and tell me to “grow up”.

Well, with all due respect Nic: Fuck you.

I will never again be afraid to speak up (Well, I probably will but I am going to do it anyway and it gets easier each time) because I am afraid someone like you will chuckle me off or try to make me look silly or minimize my feelings. You are either a piss poor individual who shouldn’t have chimed in on something he knew nothing about OR….you are an abusive type just like douche bag. If you don’t like what I have to say, unfriend me. It won’t hurt my feelings. I have been through way too much to let something like that upset me.

I speak out and I continue to speak out because I no longer want to let fear of anything stop me. It helps to talk about this. For too long I didn’t and maybe I wouldn’t have had to endure it as long as I did if I had spoken up earlier.

It’s quite telling that when I post DB going on about my attorney’s tits that I am the one told to grow up? Yup. That’s a red flag right there, ladies. I am not asking for sympathy. I am simply sharing my story. I am not perfect. I am far from it. But I learn from my mistakes and I make an effort to improve things, and I strive to have a good life. If that offends or annoys, you can go take a flying leap.

I had to get this out so I could refocus on my school work. I am still dealing with panic attacks and anxiety attacks and difficulty focusing because of his bullshit. I refuse to sit here and pretend to be perfect just to please anyone. I already did that for ten years and a whole lot of good it did. This is me:

"Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed."

Before you plop that trite piece of poetry in your profile, try living it instead.

I double dog dare you.

Now I have some work to do.

~October 28, 2010