My sister would frequently snap: “Not everything is about you” when I expressed anything difficult or needing. And it made me confused in a sad and shameful way. Like it never addressed anything but the collective need for me to shut up and be different. Under the guidance of my older sister, parents, and extended family I failed to learn about me, myself, in relation to whom I am, only in relation to how pleasing or displeasing they found me to be, mostly the latter. For example, my birthday gifts and foods weren’t about me, weren’t on my list of things I liked or wanted. I was informed that those were expressions of whom they were and what they wanted to share with me and that I should be grateful…yet their raging and diminishing behaviors were purely about me AND I should remain unaffected. I still do not really get it. I have stopped trying–as that made me want to not live. (more…)
I remember feeling amazed to learn that there is a different formulation for chemotherapy depending on the type of cancer. I thought there was just a Chemo Recipe, and you got more of it or less of it depending on how advanced or widely spread the cancer was. I was also surprised to learn that where the cancer is found, is not necessarily the type of cancer it is. For example, my mother’s cancer was found in her lungs, but it originated in her ovary, so it was Ovarian Cancer and required the correct chemicals to effectively address it, it was not lung cancer, ever. In her lungs is where it made itself known. If her Treatment Team had not been dedicated and expert at understanding the source, they may have been less effective at addressing it so completely, leaving her Cancer-Free in barely 6 months of treatment for Stage 4 Ovarian Cancer. If they had just treated it as the cancer they first saw in the lungs, as lung cancer, it would never have been cured. They had to name it(correctly) to tame it! (more…)
I honestly had such flawed thinking and attitudes growing up. I often felt the victim and would lash out, because in my experience with my family, I heard over and over how I made other people do and say bad things. So naturally it stands to reason that, well, when I am forced into misconduct, it is also the fault of someone else. Right? Ugh. Horrifying to look at– but so amazing to see how far I have come and what I have unlearned and managed to impart to my sons. I have been able to develop a boundary for myself to keep myself safe from attitudes towards me that are unfair, unkind, and diminishing to me. I learned to take care of myself. Finally.
There were no clear, consistent boundaries or routines discernible to me in my childhood home and family life. This was confusing for me and, I believe, played a role in inhibiting me from developing vision and purpose in my life. It prevented me from knowing what I wanted and liked. Sustaining a state of perpetual vigilance and shame–I pinballed through life running from pain and blame and chasing anything resembling connection, without learning healthy coping, thriving, or promising relationship skills. (more…)
In spite of the tension that defines our relationship, my ex and I co-hosted a beautiful day and evening for our older son’s birthday. MIRACLES: Our precious TRUSTED OTHERS were available and PRESENT for this day. In addition to Will’s sweet friends and their families, my best friend of 40 years, who knows everything of me (my FOO, marriage, divorce, and the triangulation of my ex with my sister) showed up to 100% support. I let him know before hand that she was here for US, our family, not Team Magda. Her warm, friendly support is wholesome and badass magic. It is painful to reflect how people in our(his and my own) families behave as if- love is demonstrated by hating your enemies with you or demonstrating and gossiping overt displeasure and coldness for people who fail to submit and revere. But, see, my friends and trusted others have a God and souls and strive to serve and elevate others, rather than themselves. I am crying, overwhelmed by what Mary Ann does for us– nearly certain I would struggle mightily to do for another, what she does, with what seems pure grace and ease. I was raised differently and I am reparenting myself and unlearning as fast as I am able, in my program of recovery– learning to be open to wholesome love and to offer it and be grateful for it and to put space between anything that looks or feels like NON-LOVE….unwholesomeness. (more…)
If you don’t like Christmas, thats okay. You are not alone, or a bad person. People who make you feel like a bad person are bad people.
Shit. Shit. Shit. It is that time of year in which I relive the feelings of fear and anxiety that for me, have defined special and family occasions. It was beyond painful not getting to believe in God or Santa or the Easter bunny, not having fun or meaningful traditions with my mother and family. An utterly faithless existence, really nothing to count on but shame and guilt for being too tense, too skinny, too hungry, too needy, too clumsy, too brown, and angry about being unable to change or deny it all. And then— to still be all those shitty ways on special days in which you are supposed to be and feel all precious and secure and amazing, well that was just a fucken crusher too. So, there is that haunting trauma that I face each year from October through January…that deep longing and awful knowing that if I had been good enough or worthy, my birthdays and holidays might have been different…like the ones that people who are loved and lovable have. right? But guess what recovery teaches me. My mother’s inability to love me is a reflection of her and of course it affected me mentally and emotionally and shaped how I would be in the world—I will grieve that, but no longer take responsibility for it. As I have said, one of my more pronounced failures was that I was not a gracious and mellow abuse getter. My natural reaction was to become an infernal hurricane — a firestorm. (more…)
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.
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.
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.
The intention for Wholesome Badass is to share my journey, my UN-learnings- openly, inviting community with Trusted Others who also are intensely feeling beings.
He’s always needed a woman with more. More money, more shine, more spine. He likes the kind with a backbone as long as it’s used to lift him. Strong is great, as long as it prioritizes him, elevates him, makes
Friend: So you’re not in contact with your daughter anymore? Family Member: No, she’s just too much. Always some issue with her. Always making everything harder than it has to be. Friend: Wow. What happened exactly? Did she hurt someone?
Many of my interactions seem to carry the same unspoken rule:You better be grateful for what you get. Shut up. Stay put. Or else. It doesn’t matter if I’m talking to customer service, a doctor, a family member, or someone
In the family system/code that believes and says, “Serves you right,” my boys seem to have been programmed to interpret my chaos, struggle, difficulty, and misfortune as proof of my badness. Instead of an instinct to comfort me or offer
A raw, personal reflection on growing up without safety or sovereignty — and learning to exist in my own body, voice, and truth. Family in Name Only So the way that I was handled by the people in charge of
My boys left me They used to count on me. Laugh with me. Play with me. They would instinctively curl up next to me and hug me and kiss me and still want to sleep in my bed — even
They didn’t predict this. They designed it. God, it hits hard—but it’s true. This is exactly the outcome they set the stage for. Like a self-fulfilling prophecy they engineered, then stepped back to watch unfold so they could say, “See?
In May 2024, at 55, I sought medical care for hot flashes, depression, brain fog, insomnia, severe back and hip pain, and uncontrollable crying. The pain was so intense I couldn’t sit, stand upright, or lie on my back. Despite