survivor

I know what I Bring to the Table

I know what I bring to the table.  So, trust me when I say: I am not afraid to eat alone.  Sitting at a well set table positioned precariously atop decades of eggshells (unresolved issues) is something I do not choose.  Submitting myself to that energy renders me physically and mentally unwell. Gathering for meals or “special occasions” should not feel awful.  Right?   (more…)

Continue ReadingI know what I Bring to the Table

Self Love is the Shit

While it is true that I have tapped into the magic of self love, this by no means is an expression of being perfect or finished or in love with myself.  It means I recognize my worthiness of  connection, wholeness, peace, and kindness of people who value me.   I no longer doubt and dislike myself enough to subject myself to the painful brand of love-and I have for now stopped begging for it to be different, with my family of origin. Without self-love, I was willing to come around, to dine with people who name call and behave in ways which are diminishing to me- creating unnecessary hardship and loss of innocence for my children.  I realize how I came to marry my children’s father, emotionally and morally vacant,  concerned primarily with appearances.  Not knowing what being loved and nurtured felt like, I chose more of what I knew.  As I have recovered; learned what it means to offer, receive, and welcome wholesome love and nurturing, I no longer tolerate or take blame for  others whose behaviors and words I experience as foul.
(more…)

Continue ReadingSelf Love is the Shit