Three Beautiful Flowers Preserved

These may only seem to anyone as three roses and baby breath being preserved. To me the are a memory of my three children taking me out on mother’s day this year. It’s weird. Why would I, a woman who was bulimic for thirty years deserve such wonder? Or is this my message that each of them have and keep yelling at me to say screw this world and focus. I’m actually doing this, but some days I slide. Not in bulimia. Other ways that I chose not to share at this time. Suffice it to say I fear my children judge me as their father did. Not good enough, and I hold that fear too with my parents and employers. NOT GOOD ENOUGH!

I want to thank my readers. You make me feel like I’m good enough and I know my children have shared their fear too lately of feeling that way and come to me about it. But my fear is fighting this am I the person they should discuss this with?

Hummm… Absolutely.. I may be.

In all this there is one person I will miss. My ex’s daughter. My best friend. She went home today. She is a rose missing on the three but maybe the baby breath is what my daughter added to reflect her.

Male Version of Meaness

I didn’t think I’d find one! Bonus google! I DID. Meaness. This is my ex. Cruella In male form. Both. Interestingly enough I used to be afraid, not anymore. They hide behind their own insecurities. May they find their peace. I used to eat them and throw them up. But they cannot get me into that mode anymore. I really feel sad for their hate of women that I could feel, simply by their need to control.

So glad not only that I left the first but realizing I have to fight the second to gain back my strength.

Losing Love Happily

I don’t know where to begin. All the things that I hate came out tonight by some evil devil who brought up my past pains of the previous relationships I had. The one who is jealous but claims to be protective and one of two only men I loved. Strangely enough both controlling but in same/different ways….

I’ve had enough. Seriously enough to last a lifetime. At one point here I wrote “ate” instead of hate and had to edit. Hummm…. the two somewhat related? I’m clean of bulimia but interestingly learning more about my Freudian slips. Ate hate. Ate lots of anger, ate lots of emotion. Now I just yell them out. 🙂 Not pretty but beats the bulimia 😉 here is to taking control. I, now with normal people unlike my ex, SPEAK it out and owning my life. Followers? I heard and listened. Control people around you need to know you will not be controlled and that is a choice! Freedom. A choice.

Severe anxiety sucks until you learn the biggest lesson. Don’t let the Goliath beat David. I think I am finally figuring this lesson and all the calmer in knowing the ending.

Don’t let people bully you, and if they start just put your fingers in your ears and humm your favorite thoughts or song. They will think you are crazy enough to leave you alone. 😉

Best Day

No not my three children but their love and wisdom of love is reflective. So too the humour. And to my other three loves that are my dogs I thank you for being here when my beautiful humans cannot be. Beautiful balance of love. A Mother’s love.

One of The Most Awesome Mother’s Day Gifts

One might think a Mother’s Day gift is wrapped in fine paper with a ribbon on top.  Mine is not.  Mine happened tonight when my youngest son spoke to me about my influence on how he wants to treat a woman and his apology for not responding to my texts.  I don’t mind no responses.  I send out I love you’s just because not expecting anything back from a University son.  If I do get response it’s a bonus.  It is just how I have learned to live life as a single rehabilitated bulimic.  I like my solitude, so understand theirs too, but doesn’t mean I can’t reach out now and again to say “hey, I am thinking about you”.  I am sure somewhere in my posts I noted that when I was 16 I wanted to be a successful architect in my future, and with a home by a river, overlooking the lake.  I saw the home I had once wanted to design at one point in my life, safe for the room with mirrors and bars to dance in.  I didn’t ever want to marry or have children, and I owned a Porsche.  It was my dream.  My dream that twisted in circles until I fell in love two years later, married him seven years later and had three children.  To this day I have no regrets.  I am single again living in a tiny barn apartment, with nothing but a paycheck and a beaten up 1995 Honda Civic.  And I thank God for the most beautiful gifts I have.  One is that I am a mother and am celebrating my quarter of a century of being on, albeit he was to be born three months later.  Didn’t matter.  I was a mom and he was six months in my belly.  I am having dinner with my baby tomorrow.  Money meant everything to my children’s father including a certain style of womanhood in front of the big wigs as his climb up the latter kept getting higher.  Remember, stress for a bulimic is not a good thing and that followed me.  But with every pregnancy, I didn’t do it.  Sometimes during those times I wished I could be pregnant my whole life.  But leaving him alieved that issue later in life.  Anyway, it was perhaps some strange futuristic vision that led me to want more than one child.  I had my beautiful daughter.  Then it seemed complete.  I was ready to close off the valves when it was too late and number three, my baby son, was born.  He is the story behind this beginning of the Most Awesome Mother’s Day Gift.  It means all three are what are the most awesome mother’s day gift, but it brought me to this:

Youngest said tonight I was his inspiration in regards to love, and how to treat a woman.

Daughter had said I was the reason for knowing why she struggles with mental health issues.

Eldest son just loves me and figures I am who I am.

Three beautiful thoughts.  I will take them all.  the Most Awesome Mother’s Day Gifts.  But more so, I love their insightfulness.  All three have spoken to appreciating my breakdown, my fears, my self sabotage, and then watching as I grow to be stronger, and love them more than money.  To appreciate each of their emotional baggage as children of divorce, and they too me of being a victim of one.

They all talk differently of their lives to me, and I see all of them in me.  That is being a mother.  To understand all their not only emotional, but intellectual, and investigative needs in this world that has so created a more beautiful next generation.  For everyone who at my age of 51 or older do not have faith in the next generation?  I so do.  I have been blessed with three children who are proving that.  Three completely different, yet bound by their sibling traits, wonderful and beautiful children.

Thank you God.  May you lead them continually on the path of a more balanced life, yet one still filled with the excitement and adventure I lived, even if it left me with not much materialistically.  It left me with a pot of gold in unconditional love.  The kind God, you advocate for us through your love.  Thank you!!

Happy Mother’s Day to all, both mothers and fathers who know what being a carelover and teaching out little ones that grow up how to know that love… unconditional.

Eating Disorder And Love

When I got married I had already told my ex that I was bulimic. He strangely enough accepted this without question. It wasn’t until a month after being married that I learned he was a cross dresser. I accepted it too but it did put a glitch in our sexual life. How ironic. I was bulimic trying to keep my body at a sexy size while he didn’t touch me for weeks as he had his ID to contend with. I think it got to the point where it was easier for us to be intimate with our hidden worlds then to be together. I only hope he found his match with his girlfriend. Although word is he is still roaming.

Me? I was happy with the second one. We had perfect sex which I didn’t know existed. We even liked the same things, were best friends before lovers. But he roamed too.

I overcame my bulimia while with him. It was a year later I found out of his wandering but stayed clean. Maybe because even if it ended he remains a best friend and showed me something I never knew before. Although not together we still share a level of unconditional love. I know it sounds strange and probably is, but I’m happy. I like my solitude anyway although there are times it would be nice to find someone just like him who is also faithful.

Did I Ever Love Him?

Interesting thought. I thought I was in love with my ex-husband for the 22 years I knew him yet today wonder if I ever loved him at all! I know I love my children, but 11 years later they are not attached to him anymore in my emotions. And now I guess I know what he meant when I asked for a divorce saying he didn’t love me ever and his response was ‘I think I did at one time’. Hummm. Maybe I understand that comment now because I can’t even remember the kind of love towards him as I had with the second man I loved. It’s a very strange feeling. At least with the second one I remember. I remember the first kiss, the first date. I don’t much remember that with the x-hubby! I can’t remember the chilling amazing feelings on that first kiss. Shit I remember the one of my first boyfriend even!

Was he just a catch back then? Because a bunch of women were after him and he chose me to ask to marry? I don’t know. I seriously don’t know. Or does this happen that you burry the feelings and forget where you buried them never to visit the grave for the memories again? I don’t know. I just don’t know and I wonder. But maybe best to leave that lost grave and not even ponder.

To the second one that is complicated. Not sure if I could ever burry that love only because he is still around and a part of my life. Not sure that is healthy either because he has someone and I don’t and though loving solitude still get an ill feeling when her car is parked in his adjacent apartment’s parking lot. Not sure if the illness is of seeing a married woman drive in every two weeks bringing back bad memories of my past with my ex husband or of the fact he found someone new four years ago ten years younger just like my ex and the memories wreak havoc in my brain. Want to bury again. Not sure where this time that I can forget where.

By the way please look up Nonnetta. The illustration here is hers and all her work is very heartening. I don’t know her, but found her on the Internet. Love her work. She is on Facebook too.