Home is Where You Can Afford to Live–Right?

Friends are welcome!

My sons and I have recently relocated to a family oriented community filled with children and amenities that support connection and ease of access to families and school aged kids in the neighborhood. I was going deeper into debt with each month that passed in our previous home within a small empty nester community, and we were each longing for readily accessible families with children. We are now located in a more remote area within a community that feels right for raising more well connected children. Connection is key– and as children of divorce, with fractured families on both sides,  placing them in a rich community environment is the very best that can be done for THEM.

Do not trust those who continually give you reason to NOT trust. That is not immaturity, but insanity.

Unsurprisingly, my decision is reported to have agitated the boys’ father– as I did not include him in my process or plans. It is just plain silly to hope for respect for a decision made for my children, which for obvious reasons I made on my own. Because this is a man who historically and still righteously makes choices which result in unnecessary difficulty and stress for us.   He insists on the type of partnership where he is afforded a say/authority over my life with zero accountability for the effects and natural consequences for his own actions and choices. Why do I yearn to have him understand my thinking and decision? His behavior is suggestive(understatement) that he honestly does not give a shit about anything but what suits him personally. His emotional coolness and stoicism up against my intensely feeling presence afforded him more freedom to do as he chose, before I found recovery, which taught me to detach, disengage, and let go of his opinions and fear of reprisal. This is the same with my  sister.  He trained me for her.  He is now happily bonded to my family of origin, with whom I have spent the majority of my life in a state of NO CONACT. (Just for today) I will not waste energy detailing the unwholesomeness of this alliance.

Fear, guilt, shame are not motivators for decisions in our home–only faith.

The boys’ father shared with our sons, how he researched homes in his area that are comparable in price to our new home, as proof that I could actually afford a home that would be more convenient for him. Oh. Ok. What he cannot see is the main motivation for OUR move—community for our children and a fenced yard for our dogs. THIS is in no way convenient for me, taking us nearly an hour to get to school. And, I accept this burden because it benefits my children to live in an area developed with children in mind, in a home which mommy can afford. I definitely would have preferred to have planned and decided together how to make best life for us all. But his triangulation with my sister renders that improbable. For me, he remains a non-trusted and non-safe other. It would be literally insane to turn to those who diminish me, for support and feedback about important life decisions. This move was based on the boys’ need and right to have access to other children, where previously we had none– and the reality of my finances.

So, it is from those whom are kind and supportive or in some way contributing to the betterment of life for both my sons and me, that feedback is relevant. Spiritually, this feels sound and prudent. I will pray to let go of the opinions and reactions of those who wish to be in charge. Holding on to hope that they can support anything other than their own images and agendas is as futile as it is depressing.  Unless a person is willing to consider a third way, there is no conversation to be had, that will go well.

The idea of co-hosting my son’s birthday party next week currently feels sickening.  I am grateful to be willing to let him into our home and to share friends and families with him, which previously, I had to protect. I can do hard things.  I am maturing in recovery, one day at a time.  Together, with you.  Doing hard things is wholesome and badass.

 

Much Love,
Magda Gee

For shorter, more frequent and fun posts, connect with me on Instagram by clicking the pic- Wholesomebadass. https://www.instagram.com/wholesomebadass/

Children Learn What They Live

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.
If children live with ridicule, they learn to be shy.
If children live with jealousy, they learn what envy is.
If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.
Conversely:
If children live with tolerance, they learn to be patient.
If children live with encouragement, they learn to be confident.
If children live with praise, they learn to appreciate.
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.
If children live with acceptance, they learn to find love in the world.
If children live with recognition, they learn to have a goal.
If children live with sharing, they learn to be generous.
If children live with honesty & fairness, they learn what truth & justice are.
If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves & in those

I believe I began as a very kind and sensitive child. I remained sensitive but learned some very cruel ways of being. So grateful to be unlearning. Breaking the cycle and raising lil love warriors, truth seekers and citizens of humanity.

around them.
If children live with friendliness, they learn that the world is a nice place in which to live.
If children live with serenity, they learn to have peace of mind.
With what are your children living?”

-author unknown (Feel free to share source if you know)

You know what else I learned…though My FOO would insist I invented it, as the youngest of all children in the entire family…Oh Ok.  Venomous Assault – a skill I mastered at a very early age.  I had many teachers and models.  But it was always done with laughter and sophisticated language…so it was considered clever or funny when delivered without emotion.  What I never learned was to be unemotional.  I feel deeply.  I cry easily.  I excite easily.  These are not defects.  I am not sorry.  Being a caustic asshole is defective behavior and I am unlearning that behavior one precious day at a time.  I am deeply sorry for damaging things I have said and done without knowing better, to anyone at anytime.  Even when I don’t like you, I do not wish you ill.  Spiritual striving, healthier behaviors, and boundaries have divided me undeniably from a family culture that requires a tolerance for living and learning things I find offensive to my soul.   It is not for me. It is too painful.   I learned to choose people who could diminish me ways that were funny, clever, or casual, barely perceptible to an observer.  I thought that was love because– that is what I lived and learned and– so brought out into the world with me, until I learned there are better ways.  As a parent and an adult, I learning nurturing love and kindness…YOu know what??? When you don’t know what wholesome love is, you also do not now what is not wholesome love.  AND When once know better(for those willing to learn and expand and transcend), we do better.  Doing better is wholesome and badass: not doing better than another person, BUT–doing better than we did yesterday.  One day at a time, I am making better mistakes and amending where I have done harm.  My mind is open and my heart is healing.

 

Much Love,
Magda Gee

For shorter, more frequent and fun posts, connect with me on Instagram by clicking the pic- Wholesomebadass. https://www.instagram.com/wholesomebadass/

Count Your Blessings

Count your blessings if you find any peace and joy at all from being with family, ever.  Because for those of us who do not, it is very painful.  Holidays illuminate this for US, and do not undo or magically heal the decades of #abuse and #betrayal.  When someone, especially a family member, watches you get the beat down and says and does nothing, the beat down goes from betrayal to slaughter. ?A part of you, so deep inside, that wants to hope and believe in #love and #family, is destroyed. Be grateful if you are fortunate enough to have not experienced or witnessed such an encounter, and recognize how completely unable you are to relate.  Thank God if you are compassionate enough to not minimize and dismiss the ache of those who are not so  blessed, by making comments like “Can’t you just put it behind you, just for this one day? How bad could it be?  You know he/she/they love you.  Nobody is perfect.” True. Maybe true.  But why, on a day that is meant to bring people together should anyone submit themselves to those who either openly diminish them or to those whom are ok with it?  If you are one who believes there is good reason to pretend it did not and does not happen, be kind and share that, only with those who share your sentiments and lack of experience.

I am blessed in many ways this holiday season, grateful for so much.  And yet- the pain ?and reality of this do not vaporize because of what the calendar indicates as a day of togetherness with those whom it is unsafe.?✂️Time changes nothing. Time doesn’t give AF.  Doing the work changes things.

  • Nobody earns or deserves abuse, verbal or physical.   People are responsible for their own behavior and words….especially true for adults, unless they are mentally unwell and unable to rectify their behavior.
  • There is no such thing as an silent and innocent bystander, with the exception of a small child.

LIES:  What was communicated through speech and behaviors by the adults in my life.  What I learned in my upbringing:

  • Love will hurt you and it will be your own fault.
  • Who I am, what I feel and say-does not matter.
  • Suck up to people if you want something from them.
  • Expect people you know and love to treat you badly.
  • If I was lovable, none of this would have happened.

What my mother failed to recognize is that I was not just “her problem”, but I was actually my own person, with my own unique wiring and spirit.  She treated me only as a problem to be dealt with.  I will spend the second half of my life unlearning this.  It is bullshit.  And I will not knowingly perpetuate it and hand over these broken pieces of myself directly to my children.  I will not.  It stops here. And for the record, what I share here–is my story, my account of my experience, how I see it and remember it.  It has nothing to do with how anyone else sees or remembers or feels about it.  If it happened to me, it is MINE to share.

Estrangement is not a choice….though, it appears to be my sister’s need/choice to perpetuate and maintain my estrangement from my foo and the father of my children–based on her triangulation with my ex-husband.  Having my mother’s unyielding support must confuse her into believing it is ok, though clearly it is unwholesome and damaging—but only to my children–and their mother.
Much Love,
Magda Gee

For shorter, more frequent and fun posts, connect with me on Instagram by clicking the pic- Wholesomebadass. https://www.instagram.com/wholesomebadass/

Paper Plates–The Cheap Kind

Today is moving day and my best friend of 40 years helped me pack but is physically unable to be here now. And Sweet Greg who also joined and calmed me from my urge to enter into packing hysteria, is away on a scouting trip…So physically, I am alone for the move. And yet, emotionally, I feel un-alone.  The people who show up are always the right people– consistently, without hesitation for the small things that add up to life- random meals, rides to airports, sick children, special days, help of all sorts, doggy watching, spontaneous visits.  This is how we experience and recognize love-not formal, fancy, or rigorously scheduled and managed.  Love, like god, just is— or is not.  Love is…not forced

I acknowledge an achey-ness  that not once (even before the schemed triangulation began) did my “family” show up in small meaningful ways.  I now see that we define and do love so very differently.  To me, love does not require  contraction, in order to be together. When everyone Is welcome/encouraged to show up, as they are, when they can, love happens and it lasts and nobody is scared shitless or IN CHARGE.  When we  moved here 2.5 years ago, I allowed myself to hope that this sort of love might become possible for my family of origin.  That was foolishness, not faith.

My boys and I were blessed with a joke(that always delivers) from our last meal at my sister’s home, strained and white knuckley, we sat around her well set table at a dinner time which was heavily negotiated by me; an effort to accommodate my boys’ bedtime.  My mother bought shrimp which my sister cooked and served to perfection.  My boys and I– voracious eaters. Period.  No secret, no shame- a well-known fact. We only eat food we like, in large quantities, at times when we are hungry, until we are full.  Unreasonable—right??  So….My sister laid out one beautiful shrimp skewer for

I am just now learning this. Because of what my sister has imposed on my children and family, her efforts to erase and nullify me, I share to heal, not to vilify(mostly) though I do find her initiatives to be villainous.

each of us, leaving two on the server plate.   Before anyone had taken barely a  bite, my sister declared “I know what I am having for lunch tomorrow.”   She not only showed visible agitation—  when moments later, I reached for a second skewer for myself and my boys. She (no joke) frantically snatched at the last remaining skewer.  Laughing, I said  “I thought you were having that for lunch tomorrow”.  She said, “I cant, if I don’t have it now, somebody else will.”   My boys and I roared and replayed all the way home.  Every chance we get, (Even Sweet Greg) now will announce at the beginning of a meal “I know what I am having for lunch tomorrow.”  (Translation:  That shit is mine, back TF off).

Teachable moments.  My sons and I agree that when you invite people to eat, you prepare and offer more than enough for seconds.  And when there is only a little
left; before reaching for it; you ask who would like to share whatever it is.  That is how we do food and love–no snatching and grabbing (as my also sister did with my ex and my sons,-total smash and grab maneuver)   Anyhow, for us; we enjoy paper plates, the shitty kind, with more than enough food and love, no fretting the amounts of food and at a time that accommodates the little ones, and we don’t wait until we have time, but we  make time for each other.  And, we always have enough and are happy to share, even when we are struggling.    We don’t own each other but definitely belong to each other, by choice and by birth….in that order.

Departing this gorgeous home is bitter-sweet.  Chosen for proximity to my mother and for school zoning, the empty-nester community was not ideal for my children, and was a lil beyond my financial comfort zone.  Who needs that?  FOO never stepped foot in the house, neither to casually help nor to visit.  So, it makes sense that they are not here for this. My ex,sons,dogs and I moved cross country at breakneck speed for time-sensitive “family matters”, even while not speaking and highly unresolved.  We showed up.  We served.  We tried.  Now, it is time to move on with our lives into a community that is best for each of us–  surrounded and supported by those who want to love and be with us exactly as we are, when possible.  People who genuinely want the best for us.  Period.  I cannot help but be reminded of my mother’s last words to me when I asked her to please stop with my ex for the division it causes us as divorced people who co-parent:  “I wish you well, Maggie” as she locked the door behind me with her implicit NO.

Movers to arrive shortly for relocation to our new home, well beyond the original radius to THEM, to a neighborhood richly populated with children, with great schools, lower property taxes, and even  yard for the pooches—with a mortgage and HOA dues that leave room to breathe and maybe even the option of saving for something like a vacation with my children.

I do not deny moments in which I long for a mom or sister whom I could call for casual contact and deep connection—the opposite of what is available.  But that is not my story.  Today, 11/18 marks the ending to the chapter we might call:   “So, that happened”  and the beginning of a new chapter.  Seems like a fine occasion for some more ink.  I looooove getting tattoos at major turning points in my life.  Even this difficult chapter enriches the story that is my life.  I will not forget the hard times before I have learned and grown from them.   Doing one next right thing after another with courage and faith in God and those whom consistently and gladly show up for us, is how we do life.   We are now entering into a very wholesome and badass new and exciting chapter.  I wonder what it will be called.  Maybe “Fk yeh”—much better than the past two years of “fuck them this”.

Much Love,
Magda Gee

For shorter, more frequent and fun posts, connect with me on Instagram by clicking the pic- Wholesomebadass. https://www.instagram.com/wholesomebadass/

Every Chapter Matters

To ask a person to selectively numb feelings or deny experiences is an unreasonable request.  And yet, it is the demand of nearly 50 years—as if time changes anything other than our age.  The past 2.5 years of living on the same coast with my FOO has been beyond re-traumatizing. And at some levels, I would like to forget it all but will not and cannot.  Because of miraculous and brilliant moments with my sons, best friend, and Sweet Greg, I do not wish to just erase the time.  And I do not get to pick and choose which parts of my emotional experiences I am willing to feel & remember, to learn from and to forget.  I am to be fully present and mindful of what is and what has been.  This is how I heal, expand, and evolve spiritually, through the pain– and into the woman I am meant to be.

Big Open Heart, Big Fucken Fences
Big Open Heart, Big Fucken Fences

Learning to practice detachment and healthy boundaries has been labelled by my FOO, as angry and unforgiving.  Because wouldn’t a forgiving person, just put historical and on-going abuse behind them and show up and smile for all the “real” stuff, like holidays and photos….By this measure, I suppose I am unloving and punitive.  Whatev.  I was not placed on this earth to endure and pretend or to please others at the expense of my mental health and ability to function and to care for my children.  My purpose and sense of self are, at last, greater than that—after nearly a decade of vigilant unlearning.

Last week, my older son requested of me to pleeeeease consider hosting a birthday party for him with his friends and his father.  Because of the intentionally unwholesome triangulation with my FOO, I have elected to keep my new relations with local friends and families separate from him.  But, for my son, I have agreed to co-host a party in which his father not only gains access to these children and their families, but also will host a birthday dinner (allowing welcoming him) in our new home.  I asked my son: “Do you need for me to like it or to just do it?”… to which he replied “just do it, please”.  Of course, I will.♥

I love that I have enough recovery to do this for him.  This is one of the many gifts of recovery-to do,change, and accept the things I can.  Nothing about his father or the objectionable dynamic of his, with my FOO, has or will change.  This does not mean I have forgiven or forgotten or believe his father to be a safe person for me.  My willingness to work closely with him while he comfortably and righteously diminishes me, is a reflection only of my new knowledge of how to keep my self safe and separate.  For one night only— I submit myself to proximity, to which I would otherwise object…. and in my new home.  We will make a beautiful memory for this occasion of having mom, dad, brother, and friends altogether, against all odds….because for my children, there are no limits to what I will do FOR them.

I will do anything for my children, because they count on me.  Anything!  My love for them is Love is a promise, not an emotiongreater than my whatever it is which I feel for their father.   I am looking forward to the party.  I know it will be a fun and special occasion, for so many reasons.  And I will not be fooled into thinking that we have begun our new forever.  The only thing that changes is me, as I recover and learn to navigate THIS type of dynamic and to create the much needed space, when possible.  In my recovery I may do, what would otherwise be both impossible and unthinkable.  Happy Birthday Baby—anything for you, always and forever.  I will always want to work with your father when it is safe to do so.  I believe this occasion to be safe and too sacred to compromise.  Every chapter counts, and all of the pages leading up to this are what got us here, otherwise, I would burn them.  I love you!  Together, we will seek to learn from pain, rather than to forget it.  Okay?

And in case you didn’t notice I am courageous AF.  I will always find the courage to do what is good for you and to make your dreams come true.  Unconditional love, the cycle begins here.

PS–It is now clear why I spent too many years as an accomplished blackout artist.  It was the only way, I could master the art of just not remembering.  I would not wish that on any one.  Because, what we resist persists.

Much Love,
Magda Gee

For shorter, more frequent and fun posts, connect with me on Instagram by clicking the pic- Wholesomebadass. https://www.instagram.com/wholesomebadass/

Trojan Horses

So, when I visited NC 9 years ago for therapy session with mother and sister which went poorly and in which I miscarried, I, for obvious reasons, felt unable to rally for Trick or Treat neighborhood parade with my sister and her family.   I required time and space to rest and grieve the tragedy of that session, my family, and the loss of a pregnancy–while nursing and caring for my baby. Continue reading “Trojan Horses”

Much Love,
Magda Gee

For shorter, more frequent and fun posts, connect with me on Instagram by clicking the pic- Wholesomebadass. https://www.instagram.com/wholesomebadass/