This is.....

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Probably insane, sometimes cynical, mostly absurd and occasionally feisty, buddhist, sapiosexual witch with a passion for love, food and life. Convinced that most people either need a hug, or a damn good slap :)

Sunday, 29 November 2015

Could this get any more whiny??

I'm going to indulge myself in this blog. I'm going to winge, feel sorry for myself and generally have a pity party. I maintain a positive, bright and sunny disposition for everyone who sees me, but here, in the darkess and quiet, where no one can hear, no one can object or say "oh, surely not!" I'm going to put down thoughts that I have about myself. This will only happen once so I'm going to make the most of it. Feel free to bail. 

Having said that, I have no idea where to start. I don't often delve into the black room in my head to see what demons are lurking. I usually leave the room firmly locked and barred, so they can't get out, but since I've just finished clearing out my walk in cupboard and it's looking a lot neater now, I feel it's time to let them out for a while, before locking them firmly back in.

I feel so useless. I do nothing that benefits anyone, not even myself. I don't lose weight because I don't feel I deserve to. I punish myself by eating, and in that way denying myself any hope of having a relationship or enjoying life. 

I'm not needed. There are no friends who turn to me when they need something. No one who wants my company enough to come and see me. No one who calls me to say "Let's go out and have a laugh". Again this is my fault, as I clearly am not enough of a friend to anyone to make them want to be with me. I am under no illusion that this is anyone's fault but my own. I don't put myself out to see people, mainly because I'm too afraid of rejection, or getting the vibe that they are only being 'nice' and really they would rather wash socks.

At best I would say I'm tolerated when I venture out and about. I know I'm blunt and tend to say things people don't necessarily want to hear but I'm not rude and most of the time if I feel they can't take the truth, I keep quiet. 

I hate conflict. Not only directed against me but any conflict. If people are arguing near me, I will do anything I can to get away. Not because it scares me, but because I can feel the negative emotions and frankly, they hurt. A lot. However, because I hate it, I don't show people my passions very often, in case they conflict with anyone else's. 

Odd little aside here. My dog has just come up for a hug, she does occasionally, stamping all over the keyboard and demanding a few minutes of attention. As is my habit, I nuzzle into her and breathe in her scent. It takes me right back to childhood when I stayed at my aunts house. She bred border collies and the smell of dog always takes me there. It was one of the happiest times in my life but in this pity party, it just made me want to weep for that child who had her whole life ahead of her, not knowing how crappy it was going to turn out.

I weep for humanity. I look out my window and think of all the pain and suffering going on. Then of course I feel guilty for feeling down. I have a home, food, clothing, a job, some have none of these. Then, I look around at what we are doing to our planet, to our mother and I  have to fight the anger down. We really are a cancer, slowly destroying her bit by bit. She's going to fight back one day. Don't think for a moment we will win because we won't.

Good grief, living alone sucks. If it weren't for my dog I think I would seriously go downhill. As it is I'm becoming stranger by the day. I hate being alone, but then I hate crowds. Crowds just prove to me how alone I am. I would love to go to the Christmas Market in Manchester, but alone? No. Families, couples, friends, all laughing and joking and I'm on the outside? Self inflicted solitude is better than that kind of reinforcement that I'm not worth being with I can live without. 

Here now is another twist. I've said above that I'd love to go to the Christmas market but everyone who knows me thinks I hate Christmas and would be shocked that I'd want to go there. I confess I don't hate Christmas, but I do hate how it starts in September. Thankfully I don't watch television anymore, because every advert showing families around the table at Christmas prods me in a sore spot and a little voice in my head says, that won't be you. I won't spend the whole of Christmas day alone, as I'm going to my daughters. But I will wake alone, and I will spend the evening alone. 

I would love to be in a relationship. I would love to look forward to coming home to someone. The only relationships I've had for years though are ones where I'm an option, not a priority. I'm not about to give everything to someone who goes home to someone else. I've realised that I need to be the most important person in someone's life or it's just not going to work. Of course I'm not likely to get this now. I put too many obstacles in my own path for that to happen. 

So these are the demons that sit in the black room in my head. There is one slouched in the corner, not even wanting to come out and be seen. The one that is the fear of dying alone. Oddly I'm not scared of dying, to me it's just another step in the adventure. Doing it alone though, boy that's terrifying. So he can sit slouched there while I stuff all the others back in, chasing down those that don't want to go back. 

Right I've aired the room, hoovered the floor and cleaned so you demons can just get right back in there. Thank you.

Well... that was some clear out! Do I feel better? A little. It can be exhausting 'putting on a face' all the time, it was nice just to let it all out, like squeezing a particularly annoying and painful spot.. getting rid of all the gunk. 

I'll leave you with that delightful mental image and wander back into normal service. 

Saturday, 28 November 2015

Wedding Day Pride

I blogged a while ago about my daughter getting married. It was an amazing day, full of love and happiness and in spite of all her worries, it went off without the slightest hitch. We all wish we could do it again as it was so beautiful!

The thing that surprised me the most was that although I knew it would make my girl cry, when I had finished, I looked up to give the toast to see a sea of white hankies and sniffles throughout the room... oops!!

So for anyone who is interested, here is the speech in full.

Ladies, Gentlemen and Gentlefolk

We are here today to celebrate the marriage of my daughter to her dream man, Kyle. Well, what can I say? I know what I can’t say, and that’s anything against Kyle, for three good reasons. 1 because my daughter would skin me alive, 2 because actually I can’t think of anything bad to say and lastly, well, I’m just a tad outnumbered here today!

But in a way it’s a good outnumbered. This is a happy day and I for one am overjoyed that they can share it with so many good people. 

I have no need to talk about Kyle, most of you know him far better than I do. However he has made my daughter happier than I’d ever hoped I’d see her and y’know what? No one can ask for anything more than that.

So that leaves me to talk about my girl. Every mother is going to stand up and speak about their child in glowing terms and I could do that.. I really could. She is every mothers dream child.. but she’s given me some ‘interesting’ times along the way...

I knew my daughter had arrived in the world, apart from the obvious way, but also by the piercing shriek that nearly took out my eardrums.  She calmed down fairly quickly though and spent the rest of the night blowing bubbles. However, as I and several of my friends found out, that shriek wasn’t a one off. She’d go from sleep to shriek without any snuffling or fidgeting to give warning.  So it was, with sleepless nights and shredded nerves my daughter introduced me to being her mother.

Opposite in every possible way to my eldest daughter, who sadly can’t be here today having just given birth to her fifth child, Bonnie grew with a personality as big as her grin. She really was the kind of child that would quite happily lead you through your emotions one by one, from joy to frustration through tears of love to tears of rage.

We lived in a cul-de sac, right at the end and the little turning circle became Bonnie’s stage. There whenever she could, she sang and danced, convinced she was going to be famous, as most of us do at that age. The neighbours used to watch from their windows, I know because they used to tell me, although she was oblivious to them, wrapped up in her world.

Bonnie coped with her teenage years a little differently to most. Every teenager works busily to find their own path. Bonnie was no different in that. Everyone here who knows her sees the woman who loves fine things, takes care of herself, wants the best for her family. I dread to think how many clothes that she and Greyson have that they’ve never worn. There’s nothing wrong with that of course. Perhaps you think she’s a little ‘girly’. You might be surprised by the teenager she was.

Picture a young 14 year old, who in discovering the world around her, noticed a lot of homeless people. I think I remember her asking me a few questions about it but then she seemed to forget about it. It was only a few years later I found out that she’d been spending most of her time with them, with no thought for her own safety, sitting, talking to them, trying to understand them, mostly just giving them the reassurance that actually someone did care.

For one particular man,  she was his turning point. She hounded whoever she could to get him a place to live. Nagged him to within an inch of his life to stop drinking. He was her mission. She won too. He ended up getting a place, going on a course and made himself some money fixing people’s computers. He also found himself a wife. He wasn’t the only one she helped but that was I think her biggest success.  She thought nothing of sitting in the dirt listening to them and I couldn’t have stopped her. I learned, very quickly that this girl had her own ideas and nothing I could have said would have changed that. So I did the only thing I could do. I was there for her. So if she likes the finer things of life now, perhaps you can understand why.

She is my rock, my star, my proudest achievement.

Writing this, I’m afraid I came over a little poetic. And so I give you,

Ode to Bonnie and Kyle
(does that sound familiar to anyone?)

My youngest daughter got married today to a man I’m proud to call son
Her eyes told me with no hint of a doubt that he’s her own true one
I wore them heels all down the aisle to make me look less dumpy
But took them off as soon as I could because they made me grumpy
Oh how I tried not to cry as we walked towards her man
To be honest he looked as terrified as any one probably can
As I handed her over, this girl I had raised the tears began to fall
This last task was done, to give her away when she had been my all.
I trust you Kyle to keep her safe, to cherish her forever
To go through life hand in hand, the true meaning of together
Always put each other first, never go to sleep on a row
Always put the seat down, and always look at each other like you are now!
Fight each other face to face, fight others back to back
Look out for each other every day though I think you have that knack
And now I’ve finished this little speech there is only one thing to say
And that’s be upstanding one and all on this most excellent day

And now..
Raise your glasses high for the toast to bless this union
To my daughter, my son, and my grandson too
A toast:  Success, love and happiness always

Bonnie and Kyle

The Tomorrow People

Well! It's been a while since I've been here. Time got a little away from me I think and I've had lots to do, so not much time for reflection. It remains to be seen at the moment what this blog is going to be about but I do want to at least aim for the topic I had planned.

I guess I need to start with a disclaimer. This is the perspective of someone who has very little idea so I really hope I don't offend anyone with my thoughts. It certainly isn't my intent, and I will make a decision about posting this once I've reached the end because it will only be then that I will know if I've made the remotest sense. 

This hasn't stopped you before! I hear you cry. Well no, it hasn't but this is a much more sensitive topic than usual.

Over the years I've managed to create this little bubble of existence. It's a very lonely little bubble but it's safe. I love people so much, but only let them in so far, in fear that if i do open up completely, they will pop that bubble and walk away, as so many have done in the past. If I feel that's about to happen, I run. I don't have the mental strength or shielding to let that happen. It destroys me.

However, I know who I am. I know my strengths and weaknesses. I know my sexuality and have never thought of myself as trapped in my own body. I can't say i like my body particularly, but that has been of my own making, along the lines of 'well if I'm fat then no one will fancy me so I won't have to cope with them walking away'. Messed up? For sure.

Enough self obsessed rubbish. I am what I am. Time to try and force this blog in the right direction.

All this was getting around to talking about those people who aren't happy with the body they were born with and have the strength of character to go ahead and change to become what they should have been all along. I can't say I understand it, because how could I? I can never experience it. I can't say to them 'I know how you feel' because of course I don't. What I can do is accept it and that I find easy to do. 

Why is it that people find it so hard to grasp that we are just entities, actors in a play if you like. This skin that we wear is temporary and it's really not surprising that occasionally, it doesn't fit. It's not what we were supposed to wear for this play. My entity is neither male or female. It is both. Even though the body I inhabit for this time is female I have very very strong memories of being male. One of the strongest memories i have of a past life is seducing a woman, slowly, sensually, feeling her body move beneath me and entering her in a wave of passion. Let me tell you, if men feel like I do in that memory, it's no wonder they spend most of their time trying to get laid! I completely understand!

Back from a cold shower and back hopefully on topic.

I could venture an opinion that those who feel that they are in the wrong body, are suffering from past life memories that are too strong to ignore. It's a possibility for sure but no basis in fact and very probably a gross over simplification of it all, but I do tend to do that because often, the most complicated of problems have the simplest of answers. 

What it all boils down to though is that person needs to change themselves into what they want to be. The strength it must take to step down that path, not knowing if loved ones are going to be supportive, faced with a million and one unknowns. Wow. That has me in awe. What a steep hill they have to climb armed with only a deep conviction that they need to do it. So much more can be done to support this decision. 

If you love someone, you might quite like the outer appearance, but you don't love it. Much like a favourite book, you don't say 'This is my most favourite book' because of the cover but because of what's inside. If two people love each other and then one day some horrible totally made up affliction comes along and they turn into green blobs.. they will still love each other even while they are saying 'eww... you're green!' 

Isn't it enough that two (or three, or more) people love each other? It certainly is for me.

I've known quite a few trans people over the years and in getting to know them, without fail, every single one of them has presented mentally to me as the gender they need to be. Even if they didn't though, I respect the hell out of their right to do what they feel is right. 

A thought to finish this. If it is indeed true that the most homophobic people around are the ones fighting their own insecurities about their sexuality, is it possible that the most transphobic are doing the same about their genders?