Heartfelt Apologies- A Beginning, Not an End to a Conversation

I have observed with my sister, my ex, my mother  copious apologizing for circumstances, like a messy home, burnt meat, running late due to traffic, or forgetting to close the door, but NOT for unfair behavior or poor judgment or a plain old error-perhaps innocent, but still damaging.  With them, the most acknowledgment I dare hope for is by solicitation and typically an “OK, I am sorry, move on, already.”  Oh-OK, since that feels all safe and loving. NOT.

Over the weekend, a woman whom I do not know well asked if I would watch her son from 11:30 to 3:30 on Sunday.  I was happy to help another single mom.  At 12:00 when there was no sign or word from them she texted to notify me of her plan change 12:30-4:00.  I said nothing but felt the icky/rapey feeling of someone showing disregard for my time and for me.

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Instead of Focusing on Rejection

Instead of focusing on the most recent rejection by my mother, I will take one small action to creatively claim my living space.  This image appeared in a facebook feed for laceandwhishkey.   If you click the image, it will take you there.   Right now, our home feels to me, a place where we sleep and keep our stuff.  I hope to get busy decorating in a way expressive of who I am; what I find attractive,  appealing, and comforting.  I am only now discovering those parts of myself as I climb out of feeling emotionally/creatively stifled to the point of paralysis.
This one simple accent will transform the energy of my home.  Succulents in little black pots.  Neutral color.  Low maintenance.  Simple shapes- appealing, soothing, and doable for someone like myself.  Will I do it?  Or is this just another example of hoarding good ideas without executing?  Perhaps soon I will stage and photograph of the results of my efforts to create comfort and beauty in our house home. (more…)

I Am Not Just Raising Boys

How my day began:  S2 enters my room to ask me if I am awake.

Me: Good morning baby.  Did your brother wake you up?

S2:  No he was awake before me.

Me:  Really?  doing what? Reading?

S2:  Staring at me.  He was stalking me.

Me:  Seriously

S2:  Yes moooom, he was stalking me in my sleep.

These moments are like the sweetest dreams ever.  I could neither imagine nor forge them into existence, just the fruits of connection.  Laughter is key, good wholesome laughter about nothing in particular.  It is an absolute privilege to know and love my sons- who do not “belong to their father and me”, but have been entrusted to us.  I am not their owner or their god. My hope for them- that they develop faith in a power greater than themselves or any other single human, a god that is neither human nor a substance.  They are growing up fast.  Innocence won’t last forever.  But humility,faith, and loyalty can.  I will seek the wisdom to become a more fit teacher and model the things I myself,  am just now learning.  Thank god for all the good humor we enjoy as we learn tough lessons together about how to be in this world.

My Lil family!  ♥  Wisdom from other moms of boys, women of faith, recovery, grace, please share with me.

Eff Socializing and Small Talk-if it is not for you

I simply cannot find the words to describe all the ways in which Jiu Jitsu meets our family’s needs at sensory, spiritual, and social levels. There is something so humbling and safe, and empowering in this martial art. If I had my way, classes would be three hours instead of one. My boys feel similarly and we enjoy coming home and Jiu Jitsu-ing each other. The connection, self-esteem, and confidence that happen in our studio/class defy articulation. It is not friendship so much as kinship. And I wouldn’t call it a fellowship, because I believe that requires social-talking, where this requires talking only when necessary to learn a new position or submission skill. (more…)

Take Time for Creativity

For the first time in almost 2 years, I am able to mentally settle down enough to look through and work in my altered books.  My soulmate-best friend, who came to me late in life and at exactly the right time, is an art therapist.  For yeeeears, she ♥harassed ♥me to craft with her and I REFUUUUUUSED- unwilling AND uncertain that I could produce anything enjoyable or respectable.  My first surrender to her art torture was a collage.  I actually created a vision board(which feels queer for me to even say) and in the hours and days of harvesting suitable images, I discovered what was important to me, about me.  I fell in love with the process. With anything I “create”, I tend to be critical and ambivalent about my finished work.(Previously learned, self-limiting attitudes I am now unlearning)  When I look at anything drawn, colored, painted, copied, pasted, or even cooked by me, I can see the white knuckles and the fear all over it, my intensity– and that WAS painful to acknowledge.  I do not love being intense…but now I own it and enjoy closeness with those who appreciate it and distance from those who judge.  It is how and who I am.  In-tense! (more…)

I Will Be Changed But Not Reduced

Observing my family of origin from an emotionally safe distance allows me to see the extreme and intense ways of their day-to-day functioning.  Frequent and casual but righteous use of the words:  always, never, love, hate–the language of those so far to the left or right and so deeply encamped, that change, for them is too threatening(reserved for the broken and defective).

Recovery requires change. Change requires courage.

And, so they instead demand it of others… willingness to change confirms a lack of rightness,worthiness, and perfection.  From this, I had to detach in order to save myself…My FOO fluctuates between claiming that: I abandoned them and they banished me.  It is the same with my ex.  When he promised to never change, I filed for divorce.  He remains unsure which is “better” to take credit or to blame me for our divorce —which makes him more right and worthy; leaving or being left.  I did not leave him.  I left the dynamic he promised to maintain.

Perfectionists/Shamers are too painful for someone wired as I am.  In recovery, I am learning to seek love and wisdom rather than proof of righteousness.  In the seeking, I am restored to a life worth living and full with wholesome connection where we are all safe to be who, and as we are, not just free to feel what we feel without fear of reprisal, but rather it is a term of engagement.  We solicit authenticity (and never compliance)from each other.

Courage to change is 100% wholesome and BadAss.  Perfection and Shaming is 100% something else.

Money-Not the Problem, Not the Solution

Money Is not my problem or my solution. Though it is nice when it is not a constant concern!!  When my boys were tiny and chronically ill with a father who could not be counted on to provide his share of costs, three different Trusted Others offered to $$ help, asking how much I needed?  There was no magical amount that would fix IT. The ability to make a living and support US, is what I needed.  No longer wanting or willing to accept gifts or loans, because a month or two down the road, I’d be in the same situation…only with more debt and less self-esteem. That was a turning point for me.  I walked dogs, ran errands for the elderly, cleaned homes and took my children with me.  We sought and nabbed discarded items from the curb side to sell on Craig’s List. We collected and turned in recycling like crazy. My boys did this with me and it was difficult and amazing that we held it together for a few years with my mother’s heroic 2 years of mortgage and pre-school tuition payments(even while we were mostly not speaking).

On my final visit to court for collection of unpaid court ordered amounts for care and support of our boys who were tiny and constantly ill with respiratory issues, I was dismissed by a judge who told me if I was serious about wanting to work, that I could drop my kids off at the hospital day care on those days without requiring ex to be burdened. The ex laughed and felt totally affirmed.  On that day,  I surrendered all future efforts toward collecting or expecting from him. People ask why—because I don’t have the fight in me. I get emotional and look unstable while he stoically denies and justifies. It is a reminder that emotional stoicism offers a façade of credibility that I cannot compete with.

Many good people were remarkably generous with us in those days when my boys were small and I was alone. I can not repay Growing Garden Preschool in Redondo Beach for the generous scholarship and gifts they gave us, in addition to a safe,loving, and nurturing environment. I cannot pay back those who paid me to do things that maybe they could’ve done themselves. I cannot pay back my mother for the  mortgage and tuition support.

My commitment to being financially self supporting, though struggling like crazy, is esteemable action that I learned in recovery. No longer begging or fighting for monies owed by my ex or money needed from my mother offers me freedom and dignity.  Daily, I pay it forward. I, however, in this moment am beating myself up a little, after driving past a woman on the corner with a baby and a sign asking for money. Wouldn’t even look her in the eye. I did not pay it forward and I tried to subliminally erase her. 98% of the time, I offer money and/or a snack or water depending on what I have in my possession and always eye contact that says “I see you.”.  As a mother, I could have connected with her, let her know she is not alone and not invisible, that she matters and she is loved. After feeding myself, I will return with some cash, a smile and a kind word on my way to get my boys from school.

It is irrelevant that I struggle financially; giving the mother and her baby a little money won’t change my finances, but it will change the vibration of my heart and maybe hers. Money is never the problem or the solution. Paying it forward is always the answer and totally badass.  NOTE: I do not claim to be 100% wholesome or badass.  I am striving in these ways.  Most days, I am doing pretty good.

My boys have been with me on two occasions, once we found 160$ at Costco and another time $867 in a grocery sack in a parking lot.  Both times, we were successful in returning the money to very grateful people.  It was painful, because I wanted it and needed it badly.  I was recovered enough to know, it would not improve our lives as much as it would pain the person who lost it.  Finding and returning that money with my boys is one of the gifts of recovery.  When distraught restaurant owner claimed the bag of $867, they offered a small amount in thanks…I declined, telling them that what I really would appreciate was help finding work that would accommodate my situation of many days home with sick children.  They tried.

I am a work in progress.  Doing one next right thing at a time.  I will head to the corner now to see if the mother in need is still there and to ask what I can do for her.

Fascinating and Affirming Article on Narcissism and Gas-lighting

The language of this  article feels so intense and psychotic, because this is intense and psychotic…and it is 100% my experience with my sister.  There is no answer or solution other than No Contact.  Sadly my 84 year old mother with cancer is her willing and enabling hostage.  Unless I submit to this, she will not see or speak to me.  I wonder what that is called, besides “your mom doesn’t want you-you got screwed”.Narcissist's Prayer

Click here to read the full article.  I just skimmed and read the 20 bold bulleted behaviors.  Apparently, while this is shocking, it is not uncommon.  Behavior #s 1,2,3,5,9,…Ok, well pretty much all of them are part of our story.

Sensitive ones, BEWARE of these behaviors!  They will make you feel crazy and sad and unworthy.  You are not.  You do not cause or imagine the insanity of this dynamic and you cannot cure it.  No Contact is the only real solution.  And they will fight you on that.  Aligning with my ex is the perfect affirmation of what I have known all along about my sister, who is terrified that as an adult in recovery who knows what only I know of her, that she must do this.  She cannot trust me more than she trusts herself.

I will pray for compassion for her–from a safe distance.  I give thanks for enough recovery and self-love to allow myself to continue healing.  My engagement stops here.  What is most upsetting is the toll on the innocence of my young sons as they are forced to navigate her antics as she circumvents me by foreign unwholesome alliance with my Ex.  She righteously breaks all girl code with this arrangement.

 

Wake The Fuck Up

First off, I will say that yelling and saying FUCK is neither wholesome nor badass.  This is a point of departure for me, not my final destination.  I am a work in progress…Unlearning and reparenting myself requires revisiting the pain from the past which threatens to haunt the present if I do not identify and unhook from the myths of my childhood experience. (more…)

The Games Continue

My sister hosted my ex husband and our sweet boys yesterday for lunch with my mother.  My younger son, so sensitive and aware, said to me;  “Mom, it is just not right.”  Agreed, It is not right.  I am powerless over the divisive antics and the affects on my children. For my sister and my ex, their connection is proof of being right, aligned in their scarcity mentality where being good enough, great, or loved must present as preference and exclusion.  Translation, my non-inclusion equals bad, unworthy, not enough…..  –or does it, Jilan?

With my 8 and 10 year old sons, they elected to play a game called “Smart Ass”.  Apparently, the best part of the day was getting to hear the word ASS so many times.  Too bad they did not instead play Wholesome BadAss!  My sister’s fawning over my ex; complimenting to the point that my boys told me. Her need for approval or bond with my ex is embarrassing.    I had to ask if he did it back to her, as I know she throws flattery around hoping it will be returned.  Ex was reported to have not engaged that way, which I find hilarious and even more embarrassing since she alone, is hustling for connection(with the man I divorced for reasons unfit for sharing here).  Uh oh-better try harder to be good enough, for even him.   My sister’s desperation for his affection has been pathetic from the start and I can find no compassion for her.  I know that when I do, it will be healing for me.  I will pray for compassion for her.  She cannot help herself.

Ever grateful to be at a different loving table where we elevate and support people, rather than dividing and serving others up, to elevate ourselves.  Remember, I am striving to be Wholesome Badass, not claiming to be one!