Cut Them All Out…

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I have lived in fear of losing people my entire life. This pattern of thought has kept me from setting healthy boundaries, leaving me vulnerable to others’ intentions. Over the past six years, many people in my circle have, for the most part, viewed me as a sex object. I thought I had close friendships with some of them, yet behind their partners’ backs, they sent me sexually explicit messages. I never fully engaged, but I also never said, “Please stop.” I didn’t say it because I feared they might stop talking to me altogether. That fear of losing a “good friend” kept me navigating uncomfortable messages from married people, while publicly, they were seen as the most loving and generous people.

I have seen the ugly side of these people. A few months ago, I finally started setting boundaries: “No, I don’t want to talk like this. I adore your wife, and it makes me feel guilty.” And you know what happened? They stopped reaching out. When I expressed that I didn’t want them touching me whenever I happened to come out for the night, some told me, “That’s not going to happen.” Others simply stopped talking to me.

For so long, I’ve felt reduced to a sex object, and friendships with women have often been fleeting as well. I feel an overwhelming heaviness—loss, sadness, disgust. I thought long and hard about sharing this, knowing they’ll recognize themselves in these words, and it may burn a bridge. But I am exhausted—tired of environments where someone is just waiting to grab me or harbor sexual thoughts about me, tired of the pretense of those I used to spend time with.

I no longer care about preserving connections with people whose intentions were never rooted in my well-being or in genuine friendship. I’m finally okay with letting these bridges burn. I’m ready to cut them all out. I would rather spend the rest of this life without friends than to feel like this ever again.

I Do Deserve it…

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Another post from my past drafts. Another time, another woman, I once was. Finding my way back to myself. Claiming me, one piece at a time. I can now say that I do indeed deserve all the good things in this life. And I believe it with all my being.

January 20th, 2021

The days have lulled on as I have watched like a bystander in my own life. Like I have been swept away in some dream, leaving me lethargic and in a fog out in space. I can say I am ‘flowing’, but in truth I just stopped and let everything flow around me. I go through these cycles of pause constantly, especially after revelations about myself. Then something happens, subtly, to pull me out of it. When that doesn’t work I get a scare, then if I remain stubborn things gets serious. Well, I made it to ‘scare’ and I am coming out of it. I can’t afford to let my life flow by, who can really? I have so many things I have built into my life to distract me from progressing past this point, it is like I have plateaued. I looked deep into myself when I had my scare earlier. I have not had many financial struggles for almost a year, and coming from a space before my divorce where every bill was paid almost a month or more late that is something I am proud of. But as I sat there, letting the adrenaline of my survival kicking in wear off, I realized how much I felt I wasn’t worth receiving all my heart desires. I sat there like a friend to myself and said ‘yes you are, all the shit you have been through your entire life! You are worthy of all the good things in this life, all of them’. It felt good to be there for myself like that, to root for myself instead of falling deeper in. To give myself a hand out of the hole I was digging. I am worth all I desire, and I will keep saying it until I believe it, until it is just my new reality.

Too Damaged to be Great

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I was going through some old posts that I never finished. This was a draft from 4 years ago! I find how our brains heal and proccess to be so interesting. My last post, The Chronicles of Rose Thomas: The Woman on the Cliff, is of me facing my fear in a much different way and from a space of love. I can see more clearly and that changes everything. I wanted to share this as a way of showing how far we can come when we start loving all that we are. How we can face the things within us that need to be faced. These parts that need to be felt. These parts of ourselves that need, so desperately, to be embraced.

I used to hate using the word damaged when talking about mental health. I truly believed that one could fully heal and move on from everything in their life and be “normal”. As I near my 37th year on this planet I have finally begun the process of knowing and accepting myself in my entirety, damaged parts and all. When I am religious with my self-care routine I am at peace, but if I fall off for even a day those damaged parts of my mind and soul bleed. And they will bleed all over anyone close to me. Some days I wish for ‘lazy days’ and I will indeed indulge in them, but I pay for those moments later. But as I type this I realize that I have a picture of what I feel I should be, what I feel others would easily accept me as. I fear judgement from others and confrontation.

I do not know if I will ever feel I truly deserve a great life. I am used to a harder life, it makes sense to me. When things are going well I feel lazy, it doesn’t feel real. I do not feel like I am a good person. And this becomes a battle in my mind. I know why the thought is there and also why it will never go away. It is the same reason I am very careful as to what I say to my children, even when I am upset. My feelings about myself and the world were placed there when I was young, when my brain was forming. Part of me wonders if some of it was transferred through to my children as they grew in my womb, they were once a literal part of me and they mirror me in many ways. I feel like I have failed my kids, I could have been so much better for them. Especially my son. I am not a good mom, I try, but I feel like our parenting is made evident with how they treat themselves, their parents, and the world. Cardin is a kind and caring person to everyone but himself and me. I feel guilt for the life he had, for my wandering spirit. I damaged him like I myself was damaged but in a very different way. But maybe I am giving myself too much credit. He too was around anger and violence from birth until about 2 and a half. Perhaps his mind too was just formed with it as mine was. I am not writing this to eliminate hope for those who need it but I am finally facing the parts of myself that I have in my mind deemed as not proper or “right”. I am learning that it is ok to be in spaces of feeling alone, neglected, sad, suspicious, jealous, angry, wanting to flee, judgmental, selfish, etc. These emotions are my damaged parts crying out.

I am learning that it is ok to express what I am feeling, learning to trust again. I truly do love all of who I am but I can’t understand why another would as well. Love is something I struggle with. Something so beautiful and pure as love. But it is not love that scares me, it is the pain of when it is gone. I know it too well. The agony of sadness, of a broken heart. It truly is a hell. I realize that this is why I am afraid of Love, of being loved. Because when I open up and show you all my “ugly” parts will you accept me? Will my damaged parts crying out push you away? Being this vulnerable scares the shit out of me, because the pain is so close. A good friend of mine said the reason I am so afraid is because I know that anything can happen, because I have seen it all. I know that someone can be in love one day and fall for another in a second, or how quickly one can change from love to hate. I have been controlled most of my life and I have spent a good portion of my life trying to break free from the people that have had their hooks in me.

The Chronicles of Rose Thomas: The Woman on the Cliff

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The wind blew tangles through my hair as I tried to keep the rogue strands from obstructing my view. I could smell salt in the air, and the crashing of waves in the distance danced in my ears. I took a deep breath, tasting the heavy salt in the air, and I knew where I was.

I was on the same cliff, overlooking the same ocean, about to witness the same woman I had seen in my mind’s eye my whole life. It used to be that she would let me just observe her. Now she beckoned more from me. But where was she? She wasn’t in her usual spot—that same vision I had always seen her in: long brown hair billowing in the wind as she clutched a shawl wrapped around her body. She had always emitted an emotion of deep, sorrowful sadness as she gazed out longingly over the great expanse of the black waters.

She wasn’t here. Odd. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath, taking in all my surroundings. I was barefoot, the tall prairie grasses tickling my legs, and the soft, cool, dirt welcoming my feet. I could hear gulls in the distance as the waves continued their serenade. The wind made me feel alive. I felt amazing standing here—in peace, in happiness, in bliss. BAM! My heart fell to my stomach, and I opened my eyes to a vision of her facing me, lightning striking the ground around her as her gaze bore straight through me. My breathing became heavy, and fear turned my blood into raging rapids. I wanted to run, to flee as fast as I could, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she walked closer. Dark clouds swirled over her head. She began lifting her arm, then her hand, pointing at me as she drew nearer and nearer.

I was frozen. I couldn’t move. The tip of her outstretched finger touched my forehead. Tiny tendrils of vines began protruding from her finger, pushing their way through my skin, cracking their way into my skull. I screamed in fear. It didn’t hurt, but the fear of what was happening was a soul-level pain I could never describe. Flashes of memories started playing in my mind, accompanied by the deepest, saddest feeling of loss I had ever felt. I began sobbing uncontrollably. I saw all she was and all that she had lost. I saw her family, her true love—everyone she ever cared about. She had lost them all. It was just her, standing at the edge of this cliff, heartbroken.

When she pulled away from me and I regained focus, I found myself looking into my own eyes. She was a reflection of me—of my fears. She is my greatest fears come true. She is the pain that will be felt from my loss. The pain that cuts me the deepest. She is my inevitable future.

Wood Nymph

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I think I was a wood nymph in a past life.

The forest beckoning me to enter the trailing sunlight,

To dance between the spaces in the trees.

To lay my head on a bed of moss,

My hair becoming the soft green I lie upon.

Trees speak to me in a language that I understand more clearly than any human.

I feel the wings upon my back dancing to a rhythm that only Mother can beat.

I crave adventures upon her terrain.

The lowest valleys and the highest mountains.

Peaceful lakes and raging rivers.

My heart and soul are free in these oasis places.

You

Published on by DragonflyRoseLeave a comment

I had every intention of staying single, and I’m not embarrassed to say that I haven’t kept that goal. The truth is, I made that declaration out of my pain. Two of my friends gave me advice going into this that no one else did. They told me not to be so rigid, to flow like water, and that one day, someone would come along, and I’d find myself in a relationship without even realizing it.

I was ready and happy to be alone, but I kept their words close to my heart. I’m not deluded into thinking with all certainty that this will last forever. Life is full of love and loss, and that’s what makes love so beautiful. Even if you’re with someone until the end of your life, one of you will die first. Love is linked with loss, just as life is linked with death.

What I’m feeling now is something I’ve never felt with anyone. We started as friends, and neither of us wanted more than that at first. But as our friendship deepened, we realized that the other was the person we had been asking for, searching for, all our lives.

I believe this past year was what I needed to filter out what I didn’t want, to tell the Universe, “No, thank you,” and to finally reach a place where I know—without a skipped beat in my heart—that I deserve it. Because I do deserve it! I wrote this poem for Aaron.

You,

are the moonlight that kissed my soul

as I sat in my darkness.

Your presence,

a beacon that soothes me in my storms

and lulls me in my calm waters.

You’re

the beat that has pulled my dreams ashore

from the abyss of my being.

You,

draw everything I embody

to the warm sandy beaches of our reality.

You,

make it safe to be all that I am,

all that I embody.

To say “I love you” will never be enough,

for you are my moon and stars,

my light in every dark corner,

my best friend,

and my greatest love.

Amour,

ardor,

resplendent,

original,

nourishing.

Aaron.

My Incessant Need to Please

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My anxiety flares are less and less but when they do hit it is like a hot knife is coring out my chest. These feelings are almost always triggered by how people respond to me. As an example: Today was going great but my boss chose the wrong way to show me that he was not pleased with how I did something. It was quite theatrical and left me in a space where I felt dumb as shit. Because shit is dumb. My face turned bright red and then I proceeded to keep making mistakes. It was like that one domino that knocked down all my neatly stacked lines.

I kind of want to go hide in a hole now. I am not going to but I can’t deny that this is how I am feeling. I am a grown ass woman! Why do I feel like a little kid who committed an atrocity? So much more work that I need to delve into. *sigh* I am fucking tired…

Rick

Published on by DragonflyRoseLeave a comment

I have avoided the thought of you for years, avoiding the conversation that we needed to have. Yet every time you creep in, I push you away with the passing breeze. Our connection was instant and enigmatic. It was magick at first, but as time went on, I couldn’t hold your pain. I couldn’t save you, so I ran. Maybe it was because I knew I couldn’t bear the thought of watching you fade away into your darkness. Perhaps, if I had stayed, you would have crawled out of your grief. You would have saved yourself. I couldn’t weather your storm, so I fled the seas.

I remember a couple of years had passed, and I heard the news that you had finally done it. Went out the way you chose to, by the thing you loved so much. My heart broke all over again. What if? This ‘What if ?’ has followed me for so many years.

You were the first man I have ever truly loved. Karma is a sultry creature. I ran from you, and Nick ran from me. I needed that lesson. I needed to feel that pain from the other end. I don’t know if staying would have saved you, but this is the timeline I chose. I fucking loved you, and I still do. Just as I had to let Nick go, I now let you go. I forgive us both. I envision you soaring the heavens on a ladybug in the sky with your baby girl in your arms.

Goodbye, Rick.

The Chronicles of Rose Thomas: Just a Weirdo in a Cubicle

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Flick, spin, flick, spin. Fidget spinners had their 15 minutes of fame, the craze that swept a nation. For me they are a much needed mental stabilizer. Flick, spin, flick, spin. Something to help me balance my anxiety and need to move. I normally like tiny spaces, they feel comfortable, secure, but not when I am chained to a desk. Flick, spin, flick, spin. The steady flow lulls me into a trance. “Yes” I whisper out loud to myself. Oops…. Too loud. Eyeing my surroundings to see if anyone noticed, all clear. Flick, spin, flick, spin. Lull…

I release a breath, deep from my lungs, I am here. I can feel the moss, moist dirt, and tiny rocks under my bare feet. I breathe deeply. It smells of lilac and sandalwood. The gentle rhythm of the waterfall in the distance and the fine mist of moisture in the air let me know I have arrived. The sunlight reflects and refracts in the mist, glitter in the air. I breathe deep and take those first few steps toward the crisp cool water. “Huh? I am completely naked this time.” I shrug it off and go with the flow. That is how it is here, a go with the flow kind of place.

The water tickles my toes as I step in, sending shivers up my legs, across my glutes, and all the way up to my breasts causing my nipples to perk right up. I smile at the welcome sensation. I breathe deeply again as I dive into the waters. I have done this a thousand times and the feeling still invigorates my soul. Quenches my body. This is my sacred space. This is how I survive this world.

Tap, tap, tap… “Hello?”

Pulled back too abruptly, I find my dazed eyes struggling to focus.

“Hello… Rose, do you have the documents that we needed to have printed?”

“Oh, yes, sorry. They are on the printer I will get them right now”

My boss Casey. He isn’t horrible but sometimes I wish he would disappear. Why am I even here? This job is a meaningless pit that is not really helping anyone. Definitely not helping me except to help pay the bills to live in society. I place the winged metal spinner on my desk and begrudgingly walk to the printer. As I stretch my legs I feel better. I can be a grumpy asshole sometimes. ‘Shit… get it together Rose. You need this job, for now anyway. Until you can finally decide what you want.’ I talk to myself a lot through the day.

What do I want? Such a simple, yet extremely heavy, question. What do I truly fucking want!? I have gone round and round with myself about this. Making lists of what I like, what I don’t like, what I can imagine doing as a job. The list could go on for days, for an eternity. I have too many interests. Choosing one to master is such a daunting, soul crushing, decision. I hate being confined. Even by myself.

I grabbed the documents and begin walking back to my desk. Every now and then tripping over one of my feet. I can be such a klutz. Maybe it’s because I try to move too fast? Who knows. I giggle at myself as I daydream about being at home. Surrounded by my books, animals, and plants. I love being in my own space. I miss working for myself, but this is my life for now. I struggle being the “ditz” at the office. But I also have so many other things going on. ‘Why not make this the less stressful part of my life’ I think to myself. What do I care what people think of me? They’re not the ones living my life.

I place the documents in a neat pile on my bosses desk, I’m a bit anal in that way. I like neat and organized, but I also like chaos. A weird balance between the two sides of my psyche. Maybe it’s because I’m a Gemini… These two parts of my being, chaotic and OCD. I sit down at my desk pretending like I’m doing something important. Flick, spin, flick, spin, another escape to my inner world.

I breathe, deeply, in and out. Flick, spin, flick, spin. I feel myself drifting off but instead of those cool waters. I see a dark haired woman standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean. “Shit” I say to myself. Her hair and shawl dancing in the wind. This used to be peaceful, albeit sad, inner scene for me. I have seen this woman, in my mind, for as long as I could remember. Always standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean. I have never seen her face. But a few months ago that woman turned around and looked me dead in the eye. It scared the shit out of me. For my entire life, I’ve seen this woman standing there overlooking the ocean in sadness. I’ve never seen her face.

After almost a year of escapades in relationships and sex, and pounding my heart like iron on an anvil, she turned around and looked at me in a way that sent shivers down my spine. Her gaze was lava straight through my soul. I tried to ignore her for a time, and every time I ignored her she became more and more hideous, with a possessed demonic face like she had come straight out of my favorite horror movies. But when I stopped and listened to her, her beauty returned, her softness returned. She was just screaming for me to listen. I take a deep breath, in and out, and I brace myself for what she has to say. Right here in the middle of my fucking office at work.

I suppose I’m lucky though. All these quiet spaces during my workday, getting paid to do internal healing work. Getting paid to quietly embrace my darkness as I sit in my cubicle.

From a Lens Eye

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For as long as I can remember, I have been drawn to the magick of the lens and the way a pen can capture an audience—whether it be stills or moving images on a screen (photography and movies, for those who are not following), or books and writing, these marvels saved my life. Over the past year, I pulled away from these two passions. Mainly, it was because they held a lot of pain that I was not ready to face. Photography and videography were shared passions with my last long-term partner and we spent many hours reveling in our passions. I spent this past year trying to fill my sadness with love, and sex (if I am to be brutally honest with myself), but it wasn’t healing the cracks in my heart. I needed gold; music, photography, writing/books, and movies. I needed Harold and Maude, Ripley, ’90s grooves, and dramatic black and whites. I needed places that were filled with the words that have flowed from many souls. I needed to find my joys again.

I have hardened over this last year and struggled to have fun. I was so serious that life had become heavy. I needed to set myself free. But I couldn’t do it alone. Certain events and people have been helping me rediscover my passions, rediscover life, and I feel my imagination and creativity flowing freely once again!

I never want to know what is around the corner. I remember that 20-something girl, that teen girl, that little girl—the one who looked at life with wonder, awe, and love. Everything was shiny, everything held magick. Everything was an adventure. Nature held the best conversations. My camera helped me show the world what I see from my perspective. Movies brought my imagination to life, and writing set my soul free. Life’s lessons can take a toll, but they are there to break us free, to teach us we truly are invincible, and to remind us never to lose touch with the fire of life. We should always stay away from anything that dampens that flame.

I used to joke that “Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake was my theme song. It used to make me sad when it came on because I truly felt alone. Now, when I hear it and read the lyrics, it brings a sense of love and adventure. For I am never truly alone when I have myself, but going down the only road I’ve ever known….. I am not sure that is part of this next phase in my life. It is time for a different road. It is time for a different circus.

The magick lies in all the things you are avoiding, and change can never happen if you are doing the same things you’ve always done.

Here’s to living, breathing, moving, and loving in new ways and through new lenses.