Author: Magda Gee

This author has written 587 articles

Loving Myself, Unapologetically, and Without Permission

After last week– which required two vet visits, paw infection, antibiotics and a cone(to scrape the freshly painted walls) for one of the dogs, two pediatric visits, one for bulging ear infection and the other a fractured wrist, a stomach bug, while in mid escrow on TWO homes, transitioning jobs and a super fucked up family arrangement in which my female sibling offers the option to betray me to my ex-husband, who for obvious and unspeakable reasons, seizes the opportunity, (more…)

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The Shit Before the Shift

Waking each morning already engaged mentally in conversations with my mother pains me, unsure if we have ever really had an actual conversation, in which we were both fully present and engaged with each other. All of these mental dialogs (Me pawing again and still at my mommy for love) center around me trying to get seen, heard, validated, accepted, instead of silenced, dismissed or banished- always intense and strained and white knuckly, with the two of us in agreement on only one thing…I am and have always been the source of the “eggshells”, tension, misconduct, and harshness of those with whom she feels close.  My recovery illuminates for me, the untruth of this sentiment and I can no longer abide.  The shit has to happen before the shift can happen.  The fall before the rising.

What is also odd is that my father, who passed 30 years ago, rarely enters my mind.   I am touched occasionally by only shreds of distorted memories of fighting and weird little gifts and gestures, both of which meant the world to me in the moments in which those things bound us. What were we doing between the gifts and the fighting?

I wonder how much time is needed to grieve all that was and will never be. I wonder why I am the only one to fully experience the gravity of this….I guess it is my job to foot the bill for all the damage caused by my unfortunate existence. Actually, fuck that. I recently heard that the scapegoat is the one who cannot keep quiet and endure all of the brokenness in a system that demands you to keep quiet and endure. I am officially unapologetic for having held that role. Because of THIS, I get to live and parent differently from all of those with whom I am genetically linked who adhere to the codes of silence, blame, shame, triangulation. (more…)

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We Don’t Have to Feel Starved

On Saturday before Braziilian Jiu-Jitsu Class, we stopped for Chick-Fil-A( a huge treat, right?). My older son took one bite and said “I don’t like it”. Will you please make me burgerS with avocado and tomato when we get home from class? And this is how it goes. I always offer my sons foods they like, maybe not their favorites or the thing they are currently in the mood for, but never “offer” the two choices of: NO food OR whatever I provide you, regardless of what feels palatable (and with a
generous serving of shame and guilt for what a pain in the ass you are)…no matter the inconvenience.   Sustained hunger, for us, creates difficult energy and unnecessary stress.  The boys had a playdate scheduled straight from BJJ. S2 was ready because he ate his Chick-fil-A. S1 returned home with me for burgers with avocados and tomatoes.  (Note:  I totally get that what tastes delicious on one day may turn my
stomach on a different day, makes no sense, and yet—it is true.)  Totally unreasonable things are often true!!! Have I mentioned my sister and my ex?  Ach!  Anyhoo,There is ALWAYS a third, often less convenient and totally doable way.  Anything for my boys, within reason.  Letting anyone of us become too hungry is guaranteed discord.  Who needs or wants that?  We can fight about so many other things, but not this.  I choose the relationship over being food boss. (more…)

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You Are Either With Me or You Are Against Me

In a recent work encounter, the one employee that had been there longer than I, frequently laughed(but not joking) “Somebody’s gotta lose and it aint me”  That is the culture of this particular environment.  I realized how familiar this dynamic is and observed her frequently taking the bait to jump in the ring with the very aggressive owner. And she liked it, hated him but liked the drama and needed to be right.  After dealing with my ex and my sister, guided by the wisdom of my program of recovery, I have become deliberate in which conversations I will engage.  Anything inviting needless complexity, blaming, denying IS not for me.  I often interrupted a rant, to say “What action do you want me to take?  I am happy to do as needed.”  That almost always worked.  But this last one, he wasn’t having it, he was relentless in his need for battle, a win.  He wanted a submission.  I submit to God, my pets and my children.  That is it…oh and in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, I gladly submit as called for…but that is never a loss or defeat…never diminishing.  Just part of what we do.

After months of failing to wrangle me into the ring, my boss lost it…because in his mind one person must be right and win always.  You are always either a winner or a loser…and by me not playing, by his criteria, he could not be certain where he stood.  While my experience should make me expert at this– (sadly claiming my nearly 50 years of practice) I realize this is a technique/dynamic I no longer need to master.  Winning feels like losing.  Zero-sum game has never been for me.  I prefer a third way, a way to be in unity, in sync, sustaining connection via a shared value or purpose.  So, I offered to leave and return Monday if it could be different— or not at all if it could not.  He informed me, as he did the others who left in the past 2 weeks, if you walk out that door, it is because you are lazy and don’t want to work.  I said three times “The way you speak to me is hurtful and makes it difficult to focus on my work”  ” I cannot be spoken to in ways that are diminishing and be an efficient worker.”  Unwilling to acknowledge my invitation to talk it through, he came at me harder demanding engagement in a way that would force me to fight or defend.  I wished him a good weekend and walked out the door.  Thank gawd for the last guy who left and modeled for me:  Upon hearing “what….you don’t like working??”  he responded flatly, “not like this” and out he went.  3 of us in 3 weeks.  This is a 4-5 man operation tops.  Now two brand new hires and the owner remain.  Rather than continuing to try and be heard, I remembered my values.  I choose connection over being right.  I may be a ninja at deflecting that energy, but it is exhausting, and I can officially think of better ways to spend energy.  Additionally- for the type of connection I choose, there is no place for righteous and dehumanizing behavior.  I found the words below on this matter as it relates to parenting: by Jitterberry. (more…)

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Death Wishing and Hopelessness

As one who is not social, I choose social media to seek connection with others who relate. No matter how much friends and BF love me, they have vastly un-similar family experiences. On Social Media, I exercise my voice, words, and confusion of otherwise alienating experiences in order to connect with others doing the work of recovery. (more…)

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It is NOT NORMAL

Destroying children and families is not normal, I would argue. Triangulating with an ex husband and building a relationship on shared contempt for your “sister” is not fucken normal. No matter what. And this is just one of the observable acts. They used to have me convinced A) This is how things are handled by those in charge. and B) I deserve to be treated poorly and should shut up. I could not. I screamed. Raged. Drank. Binged. Purged. You name it. I lost my mind trying to get right with some shit that is 100% not right. And I took that thinking and way of being into the world. My refusal to tolerate or engage as they do unleashed the full undeniable wrath. For too long it was denied. As the only evidence of any problem was my inability to cope with things to which I did not consent and could not reject. I was a disaster. Terrified. Angry. Distraught. My recovery has illuminated our irreconcilable differences. Deep sigh.  I am intentional in communicating to my sons that there is nothing normal about what is happening and that it is not ok or their (my sons’) fault or responsibility.  While they must please their father to survive, they are welcome to express their true feelings to me.  He has no regard for their discomfort and the feelings they have sitting at a table with people who openly behave in ways that hurt their mother and do not speak of it or her.  WTF?  Fuck eggshells and big elephants in the room.  We share our truths here.  We talk about those elephants and that eggshells are the things that people are too afraid to speak of.  And together, we have nothing to fear…maybe that is why they wanted to divide us from each other.  The legacy of abuse stops here.  I will not quietly stand by while they are thrown into insane shark tank to eat or be eaten to sink or to swim.  
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