The Struggle

This year on Father’s Day, I didn’t contact my father.  My mother texted me to tell me to do so, and I ignored it.  Sir Joshimus and I were getting ready to go on vacation, so I simply shut off my cell phone.  Because the idea of calling my father and wishing him well made my stomach turn.  And the fact that my mother, whom I hadn’t talked to since MARCH texted me for that made it worse. Continue reading

Growth and Fear

I’ve been quiet of late because I’ve been reflective of late.  I did something that scared me very much recently.  I sent my father a letter.  It was a confrontation letter, and it was a line in the sand.  And even though he hasn’t put his hands on me in fifteen years, I was still sick with terror until days after I knew he had received it. Continue reading

My Momma isn’t my best friend – and that’s really okay.

I’ve always envied my little brother’s relationship with our Momma. They are so easy with one another and always have been. I’ve envied every single one of my female friends their relationships with their mothers. Because I don’t have that with my Momma. It isn’t her fault – she is absolutely amazing and always has been. Continue reading

So…that didn’t last.

Let me just be blunt.  Most of March and April sucked.  The starter went out on Buttercup – again – and I spent two week stressing out about it.  The first week was spent with our mechanic on vacation; the second waiting for the part to get ordered.  Then I spent two weeks unable to sleep in one of the worst insomnia cycles I’ve had in nearly a year. Continue reading

Advice to long ago

As I lay in bed early this morning after Joshwa left for work (6am is early, unless I’m having a freaky sleep week – and I’m not), I was reading my Facebook feed.  Now, my Facebook feed is full of things that matter to me – lactivism, intactivism, and natural birth; Pagans and Witches and Buddha; and family, humor, and friends.  And at some point this morning, I read something that stuck out to me.

What advice would you give your younger self?

What advice would I give her?  Love yourself more.  But then, that’s a little too vague, isn’t it?  Tell your parents to invest in Google.  Okay, that one’s a little silly, but true.

In all honesty, the advice came to mind the moment I read it.  Tell her.  I would tell my younger self today to tell Momma that I was a Pagan.  I know that may seem strange, with all the stories we’ve heard about teenagers – being shamed and having to hide their studies at best, or being kicked out of their homes at worst.  But I’ve spent quite a bit of time over the last year stressing about having the religion discussion with my Momma.  And it’s a discussion that I am getting more stressed about as my Momma is seeming to develop stronger religious convictions (as strong as can be imagined in a woman who never attends church) lately.

I know my Momma – at least the Momma that I lived with as a teenager.  She would have likely tried to dissuade me, I know; but she would have accepted it – even if only as “it’s a phase”.  And as I grew and didn’t grow out of the phase, she would have gradually accepted it.  In fact, the reason I didn’t have the talk with my Momma at the time had nothing to do with my Momma; I was afraid of what my Daddy would do – granted, I was just plain afraid of my Daddy at that point in my life.  But it seems the longer it goes on, the more it has become some “big secret” – thus adding the simple stress of no longer holding the secret – as well as Momma’s recent surge in religious leaning.

Surprisingly, I wouldn’t give myself any advice on doing things differently when it comes to boys  – I can honestly say that I married my first love.  And I wouldn’t give myself advice on doing things different about the friends I kept – I learned lessons that are invaluable to my life.  I would tell myself to take that finance class that I passed on to take Biology my second year of college.  I would tell myself to hold off on those invasive procedures between 19 and 21 and pass on the Gardasil shot.  Oh, and love myself.  Did I mention that already?

Strangely it seems for people my age, I respect the girl that I was.  I won’t deny that I screwed up – it’s part of being a teen.  But every screw up I learned from.  And I wouldn’t trade those lessons, or where they led me when.  I believe that Joshwa and I would have met anyway, but I don’t know how much more jaded and difficult I’d have been by then.  By the way, I’d tell teenage me that it’s okay to be jaded – it served me well and kept me from being used by people who set out to do no more than that.

So tell me, what would you tell your younger self?


I’m sorry, dear readers

For a while, I was doing so well – giving my dear internet-crawlers something to fill their time.  But over the last months, I’ve dropped off to near nothing.  I do greatly apologize.  First there was my miscarriage, and then there was NaNoWriMo, so I’ve neglected my lovely blog and my lovelier readers for far too long.  I will do my best by remedying this fact now.  So I’ll start with an update. Continue reading