It gets easier with age…

I will be the first to say that I am in no shape, no way, no want of a new love in my life. But, I am still healing and processing this last very painful heartbreak. I have no desire to find a mate right now. No desire to put myself out there. However, I don’t want to become bitter towards love. I am a dreamer. Just as the gif above says, I have an idea of love in my head. It does not make me wrong, or inept, or unworthy in ANY WAY! I want to nourish and flourish what is already deep inside of me. I do not want to bury myself behind fear and anger.
I had a friend say to me recently, “I feel something. It’s small but I think I feel as if you’re feeling a little better. It’s like a cinder, but there is potential to blaze up.” I can only wish that this ember is burning, and will ignite with fully ready to. I want to hold onto that flame of hope that I feel is slowly dying with each dawning morning. I’m impatient and pushy, I want it now. Here’s why I want it now:
I see my mom, 60+ years old and alone. She’s completely given up on the prospect of love, life and pursuing anything that may actually bring her joy.I do not want to morph into the same person she is. I have hope, and I don’t want that hope crushed. 
My aunt said to me, “You get involved, the relationship hits a stale mate because there isn’t enough in it to sustain it, then you create chaos to reaffirm your already existing feelings of inadequacy.” This last relationship did not hit a ‘stale mate’. It hit a wall of depression. It hit a cross roads of two people from varying avenues in life, with two very radical views of love, dreaming, future and hopes. Doesn’t make him wrong, just makes him very wrong for me. I hope he finds who he’s looking for; a woman that can nourish and grow with his “day to day” ideals. 
Then she said, “Stop trying to create a nuclear family with men who don’t give a shit about you. It won’t change.” She couldn’t be far from the truth. I also find it rather insulting that she would make blank statements that crush whatever dream I have brewing within me. Her life has been filled with creating nuclear families with men who do not care. She’s truly projecting onto me her own inadequacies. That’s her burden to bare, not mine. 
There is nothing wrong with being a woman who wants love. We all deserve love. But most importantly, I deserve to love myself.
“Searching all directions
with one’s awareness,
one finds no one dearer
than oneself.
In the same way, others
are fiercely dear to themselves.
So one should not hurt others
if one loves oneself.”  – Thanissaro Bhikkhu
The gist of this quote, which is often misquoted as being a Buddha quote, “You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.”

In the end, I am thankful for each of my horribly broken relationships. I am even thankful for my bent, broken self. I can only learn and grow from here. I can only take what has happened and process it in a manner that will benefit my love life, my life, and what I can contribute.



I never hid who I was; fully. I never tried to keep buried the emotional mess I am. I have a friend who used to use the name, “Beauty in the Breakdown”, at that time I didn’t really ‘get’ it. Now, at this juncture in my life, I totally get it. 

When we were together,  I never hid “me”. I was somewhat accused of being emotionally unavailable. After we spoke last night, however, I believe he was somewhat emotionally unavailable. 

He relayed to me last night he would have married me. He informed me that he had actually seen a future with me, us.. together. His words, “Because, I’m a dumb ass? I tried.. I know I failed. I see that. But I did try. I was too fucking stupid to express it properly… what a douche’.” 

Naw, really???  You think?  He spent months trying to convince me that he doesn’t live for the future, he’s a carpe’ diem type of guy. Seize the day, live for today only. “I don’t attach to the future like that. I don’t have those kinds of dreams.” I literally heard this from him. THIS was our BIGGEST failing. I’m a woman and with that comes the territory of hopes and dreams. We live for the “ooey gooey” romantic bullshit. Why do you think romantic comedies are such a great fucking genre’ of films? Women… Dream. 

But he tells me now?? NOW?? He backs it up with, “I can’t, I won’t and I don’t want to go back to that with you.” 

So you love me, but you don’t. 
You wanted a future with me, but you didn’t.
You think I’m this “awesome incredible chick”, but not enough so to fight through whatever the breakdown in our communications were. 

I was promised a safe house to work through my emotional turmoil that sat upon my shoulders like the world on Atlas’. I was promised “home” to land at after spreading my wings for growth. But then you panicked and bailed. You panicked and pulled back. You panicked and “let me go” as you say. I don’t see it as letting me go. I feel a bunch of broken promises from a man who scared himself with the reality of actually settling down, finding true love and threw it away when it became too real.

Now, in the end, and in my healing process, I get to look back and realize that there is some emotional dysfunct on his end too. But I don’t hate him. I don’t even dislike him. I’m still very much in love with him, and every other man (if I date ever again) when compared will be found lacking in so many ways. Two very broken souls, from two very broken homes with two very broken love pasts, are not set forth in attempting to do it all again.

But I am thankful for him, in keeping true to my blog’s actual theme of gratitude. I am thankful for him. I learned, after the two year abusive partner, that I AM worthy of love. I am worth being completely in love with someone. That eventually, I will be loved unconditionally. I will receive support when needed, from someone who wants to genuinely gift it to me. I am beautiful, and there are people who do love me regardless of height, weight, size, intelligence. 

I thank him for the love he was able to give, in the best manner he knew how. 

Can’t get through this

It’s nights like tonight I can’t handle. Brain won’t shut down. My mind won’t stop thinking about he fucking amazing he was. My heart is in a state of panic. Can’t breathe. Can’t sleep.

The ache I have knowing I fucked this all up is killing me. I’m so inept. What the heck is wrong with me? Why can’t I just be happy? Or connect on a deeper emotional level? Been more secure with myself. Believed him when he told me I was awesome, amazing, worth it.

This has got to be the worst break-up I’ve experienced…. And I had a shitty divorce. This break up is the worst because I was the broken one. I just couldn’t find the light and joy in each new day.

I’m really broken. How do people do it, wake up genuine and sincerely happy at life?

“Every person with whom you interact is a part of the person you are becoming. Not a single interaction with a single person is left out of the process of your becoming.

Your interaction with others helps you to define your own personal preferences, and even if you are not speaking those preferences out loud, you are projecting them Vibrationally, and they become the foundation of your very expansion.”

~ Abraham-Hicks

Knight with Dented Armor

I once laid next to him, dreamy, absentmindedly.
                     My knight with dented armor.
Our heads swam in thoughts, basked in afterglow.

I  pondered his flesh; his scarred dented armor.
He wore it proudly upon his chest; like medals of war.

Subconsciously I ran my fingers through his chest hair.
Natural, as if his hair were wiry extensions
of my own electrical pulse.
  I always found peace, serenity, … I found home.

My index finger finds the one scar and gravitates towards.
Soft raised patch of skin just above the heart.
Smooth and inviting, juxtaposed against his hair.
My finger gently rubbed circles, repeatedly. 

Clockwise, counterclockwise;
                      patterns equate safety in my mind.

I teased him once, 
cupid’s arrow must have struck him there,
                    (in my head i was sure cupid lead him to me)
We laughed, kissed, slept. 

         I found shelter,  security, … I found home.

Only to awaken to my empty reality; hollow shell.
Alone in my own castle;
guarded by broken mortar, 
jagged, crumbling edges.
     Demons that swam hungrily within my mote.

Now I wonder,
if the scars were battles wounds,
etched permanently,
                 where my demons pierced his soul.

I once had found refuge, quietude, …
                            I once had found home.


Emotionally immature.

I am broken. I have written about the depths of my depression before. I am not as mature emotionally as someone who has had a healthier life. I don’t know how to love fully, without question, expectations, or conditions. This is what I was raised with. This is my core being. I am an emotionally stunted 38yr old woman.

He broke up with me last night. What started as a couple days of him pulling away turned into a big snowball of emotions, discussion and eventual demise. It spiraled for numerous reason, struggles we’ve been having. I am too emotionally immature and stunted for him. He’s not getting his needs met emotionally.

Just as I had predicted it would. I am completely incapable of love. I am incapable of accepting love. I just don’t know how to be a human. 

He said he needs someone who can “connect” with him on a deeper emotional level. Those are his needs. He told me everything is very “Regancentric”. That it’s been about my needs and emotional state. This was our discussion last night. . 

A month ago, in the middle of my darkest depression, he said to me, “I can be your rock. I can do this for you. Because I can see your core, who you really are in there. When I finally feel secure and open up, he pulls back. He can’t handle it. When I finally feel like I’m in a safe place to process through the pain, hurt and Demons in my head, he says I’m not able to meet him on a deeper, emotional level. That’s what he needs. 

He says that I can’t fulfill my life with him. The worst thing about this is that the abuser was right. No one will be able to love and want me. I’m an emotional wreck. I’m a passenger train of personalities that’s crashed and derailed. Blood, guts and gore all meshing together without any resemblance of the actual person. He was right. I’m too fucked up to love.

He wrote this morning, “Last night wasn’t the culmination of some master plan… I was trying to express myself, my fears and my concerns, and it just snowballed into… disaster. My love for you hasn’t changed. I know you won’t believe that and I’ve no way to express it in a way you can understand.”

He has said today, “..this is unhealthy. We can’t do this anymore.”

This is just a catalyst me for. I have spent last 4 months with someone who told me that I was safe and secure. He promised to show me how to love unconditionally. As soon as I start opening up and really working through what is going on inside me, he pulls back and says that he can handle it said he needs someone more emotionally secure.

He had me believe and trust again. He had me believing in faith again. He had me feeling secure and all of that has been taken from me and I just don’t know if I can trust people again.

Joey put me through a lot. More than I can ever describe in word. The wounds are deep.

My core is still there. I am still a good woman. I am still a good person. I just do not know how to love the “right” way. I don’t know how to be the other half of someone. I don’t know how to act and react. I’m guarded. I’m too surrounded by walls and safety nets. He can’t get past my black and white thinking. He can’t work through my processing of order, labels, neatly tied little boxes that make me feel safe and secure. I sabotaged us, just as I knew I would. Just as I always do.

He has told me over and over again, “It’s a choice. You choose to hold onto your struggles and baggage. You choose to continue to be in a negative mind frame. You make these choices to be unhappy.”

Maybe it is a choice. Maybe this is all a choice. And I’m so used to making the wrong ones. I’m just too broken to love wholly.




 This is a post in regards to the shitty, judgmental, interview I had earlier this week. I wanted to post a big long rant about the whole process, but frankly, I lost steam. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth trying to convince anyone with a negative view about anything otherwise. I lost steam. Sad, isn’t it? To lose steam over something that directly effects me in interviews, walking the street, eating or being out with my boyfriend. I’m judged. I’m fat. Society attempts define my character by my waist size and body mass.  I say smeg off. Simple as that.


I wanted to write a letter. I wanted to defend my right to work, live, breathe … exist on this planet. I wanted to sell myself like a sales person, defining why I would be an ideal candidate for this position. But, do I really want to work for a company that pushes a falsified image, or a “socially acceptable” image over work ethics, experiences, and/or skills? I am a morbidly obese woman, nearing 40, who knows the job. I’ve been working in medical since I was 15 yrs old. I started as a laundry aide, to dietary aide, to RNA , to CNA and finally graduating as an M.A.


My work ethics, abilities, skills and ability to understand and do the job IS NOT DEFINED BY THE NUMBERS ON MY SCALE.