tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13916087788013767292024-03-13T21:42:12.385+02:00Designing the Next PhaseIn the middle of my life I'm finding I'm changing everything. Midlife crisis? Open Marriage. Selling Business. Moving house. Turfing Narcissists. Dealing Autoimmune and Stress issues. This blog is helping me unpack that journey. And the Pink Book is the journal where I began to write myself well. Journey with me. Let's learn together.
(Title Pictures all sourced via Pinterest.com)Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger171125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-9336644456461665242015-12-23T09:19:00.001+02:002015-12-23T09:30:16.920+02:00Is Waiting a form of Loving?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pmAEpy9ApYA/VnpK_SxehLI/AAAAAAAABD8/U5CHfCALlpc/s1600/7a157c95beaacedaa13cc1ab46409755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pmAEpy9ApYA/VnpK_SxehLI/AAAAAAAABD8/U5CHfCALlpc/s320/7a157c95beaacedaa13cc1ab46409755.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
You're either writing or fucking.<br />
<br />
So says one of my best mates when I told her how long its been since I last was able to write a post here. She gives me permission to let it go..so I suppose I will too. Because, to be honest, and a not just a bit crude, I have been doing an awful lot of fucking. And it's been just beautiful!<br />
<br />
But now the fucking is not happening. Because my Lover and I are apart again, because it's family holiday time...first his, then mine. So, besides a very brief connection between the two family holidays, there are almost 6 long weeks of being apart that need enduring. And it has tested both of our endurance already...much more strongly than we would have imagined, whilst thinking about it in the middle of our connected physical cocoon.<br />
<br />
So to finish off my slightly shocking opening writing device, I need to say that I am suddenly moved to write again. Because there can't be any fucking. Naturally.<br />
<br />
We are beginning to see a pattern around our finding time to be together. Our togetherness consists of a couple of nights at a time together if we are able to co- ordinate our business trips away. And then a possible once a week overnighter when my Lover commutes into my city. We make the most of these moments. One of us usually draws the other in, gently, and quickly, as we come down from the adrenaline-fueled deadline-packed lives we both lead. There's a quiet sense of urgency between us - get to the calm and connected beautiful cocoon as soon as possible so as not to waste a moment. A massage. A hot tub. A connected couch conversation. A fierce and urgent fuck. Something that makes the world fade away and become only the deep and connected space between us. And that space, however long it lasts, feels really like another world. We do both escape there. Love. Laugh. Talk. Fuck. Sleep. Hold. Paradise for the two introverts that we are.<br />
<br />
But the harder pattern to bear is, of course, the separation. The inevitable ending that is brought on by The Next Thing, whatever that is. And we are suddenly packing, showering, leaving, saying goodbye, with never quite enough time to process the separation before The Next Thing begins and real life resumes. There is an ache in parting, but it can't be seen and felt too much because there is life to make happen and the cocoon is supposed to be the restorer of the life force that enables the rest of it to some extent. It's all right in those times when we know it will be a few sleeps until we are together again. But it gets worse when that can't happen. When we know it will be long and distant weeks before we can find each other again.<br />
<br />
And so at those times the process of separation takes days. And it is this separating time that I feel my old pain coming to me. I know that I was so very interested in the process of self-revelation I was having with each man I've met. And this actual real connected and happy relationship is no exception. I can see that it will stretch and challenge and grow me more than any relationship ever has... if I manage to stay the painful part of the distance.<br />
<br />
For some reason. Co-incidence? My Lover's issues? Universe intervention to teach me things? Every time we separate in anticipation of a longer time apart, his day seems to consume him. He disappears from me, able to be only briefly be in touch. I find myself reaching for him. Longing. Aching. And he is unable to reciprocate. So the separation always seems to begin for me in a suddenly back-footed way. I need too much of him. He can't reciprocate. I feel the deep loss in disconnection and I begin to grieve. And cling. And feel a rejection (unintended) and the pain that comes with that. I begin to spiral into sorrow. And that sorrow feels so intense and painful, not helped, I'm sure, by the cocktail of drugs I'm currently taking to try to quell my most recent Rheumatoid flare. Chemo. Cortisone. Biologics. All messing with my emotional and physical disposition in a way that I can't quite get a handle on. So. On shifting sands. And lost in an ocean of sadness and despair at times. Not an easy way to miss a Lover.<br />
<br />
But of course, things aren't a straight line here anyway, are they? That sorrow. Loss. Sense of rejection and abandonment. They are not simply created by my Lover's distance. This isn't something he's 'Doing To Me'. I know now, after years of therapy, that these are ancient feelings, being churned up in response to this place, but not formed by them. Just even being able to see that has to be a black belt in my own journey of self awareness. I can't blame him for them. And it's really good to know that unequivocally inside myself. But that's grownup me. 5-year-old me has a different perspective. She is always sitting in her familiar place, cheek and ear up against the door outside daddy's studio, not allowed in, waiting for that moment when the door may open and he will emerge, and be mine again. Waiting for love. Waiting for love.<br />
<br />
In my case, the metaphorical door is my cell phone. My WhatsApp account. Lover messages come in through a special alert that is reserved for him. I carry that phone around obsessively. And drop almost anything I'm busy with when his message comes in. In true Pavlov's dog style, every time that bell rings I get a little surge of adrenaline-fed frission and excitement. It's him. Talking to me. Brilliant! Sometimes it's a very arbitrary something, and I feel a twinge of disappointment. Sometimes it's him telling me he can't talk right now...disappointment deeper. Sometimes he asks me a question...I answer...but by the time I finishing typing my response, I see he has already left the conversation and it may be hours again before he picks up the phone to read my response. Even deeper disappointment. I find myself living my life between messages, and tuning into him deeply the moment he is available to me. His experience of me is, I think, of almost total availability. Access. I know I cannot even tolerate the idea of letting him down by not being available. Unexplained absences. Distance. Never want him to feel that Pain of Absence. Unavailability. Things that I suffer on a daily basis. I love him by being almost obsessively available to him. Because that's what I crave. How I think love is. Protecting the one you love from the pain of separation.<br />
<br />
I thought everybody loves like this. At some naive level I think I see loving as doing everything you can to protect your loved ones from the pain that life can bring, and most especially from the pain that you might bring to them, in this case, by 'neglecting' them by your absence. But, I'm starting to be regularly reminded, not everyone has this particular flavour of pain that I carry around inside me. They don't need to be protected from it because THEY DON'T EVEN FEEL IT. Whaaaat?<br />
<br />
Last session I spent with shrink she gave me such an important story to work with. Her first boss had the weirdest habit. He was wealthy. Very very wealthy. But every time there was some sort of office function he would send her to the food table to pile him a plate of food. Pile being the operating word. He would stand at a distance and monitor her piling, secretly encouraging her to put more and more onto the plate. Then she would have to go and hide the plate in his office fridge. And then pile a second one. That was the ritual. And then he would snack on those plates of food, well into the following week...where the food was stale and limp. Even though he had money enough to order in fresh gourmet food daily if he so desired. She found it a nauseating and disgusting habit. Until one day he told her the story about the poverty and real starvation he had grown up with as a child. How he would go for days without food and knew real hunger. She joined the dots. Never knew whether he did.<br />
<br />
She says that I have the equivalent poverty of emotional connection and care. Brought up with very few of my emotional and connection needs met in an abusive (mom) and neglectful (dad) world. My inner child well knows that pain of waiting and waiting for love. And there is a very strong part of me that suspects that love can be withdrawn at any time. I'm prone to hoarding it in just the same way that boss needed piled plates. Drop everything. Every time. Be present and available for that connection moment. Feel the transitory emotional rush of joy that happens with each connection. Cherish it. Never. Ever. Miss an opportunity to allow it to happen. Anticipate it. Make space for it. Plan for it. Embrace it. This could be the last scrap ever.<br />
<br />
The fear in me is about the sense of loss and abandonment in the terrifying potential withdrawal of love that is so normal for me that I don't even notice myself expecting it. And so all-consuming is it, that I can't believe that every human being around me isn't feeling that same fear. So I project it onto everyone I love. Assume they feel it. Work like crazy to reassure, surround and protect them from feeling it. Because it is my deepest pain. And how would I be able to even say to myself that I love someone if I don't work tirelessly to ensure they never experience it because of something I've done. My need. Your need. Satisfied in very present, deeply bonded connection. And the completely incorrect assumption that we both feel the pain. And both crave the connection.<br />
<br />
So to my lover. We have both felt the unravelling of us as the days go by into this long separation time. I'm feeling more and more of that ancient pain coming up while he lives his home life, and work life away from me. I get more and more needy and clingy. More and more wounded by what feels like his lack of presence. He feels more and more blamed and at a loss as to how to reasonably and lovingly respond to what must feel to him like an abyss of need in me. He is struggling with his own drug-induced imbalance and shifting sands as he also wrestles a flare. Both of us despairing at some level - this thing is supposed to be enriching and life-giving, and instead we find ourselves drowning in our own and each other's demons, not really sure about how to keep this place safe. My ever-presence is starting to irk him.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Trudy: "Lover, I'm hearing that you're too busy for me. That my need for time with you is a burden. That my disappointment when we can't have time is unacceptable. That my expectations are unreasonable. That this pain we're experiencing is because I'm doing it all wrong."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Rainman: "Trudy, I'm saying that we're not getting it right. That our need vs expectation/hope ratio is out of alignment with what is practical.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"And that our remote connection is not good and it spirals downward </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"And that I find it a huge challenge constantly being or feeling like I'm on the back foot with respect to your needs. And that I seem unable to change that.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
" And it is difficult knowing that you are always looking....Hoping...Waiting...Disappointed" </blockquote>
My guarding my phone. Obsessively carrying it with me. Cheek leaning up against daddy's door. Answering his every text. Being present whenever he has time for me. Organising my life around being with him when he can make the time. It's too much for him. And he will never love me back that way. It's how I love. But it's not a normal way to love. And I need to find a new way. I need to hold the anxiety in my little child and soothe her. And find a more grownup, functional way to love and be loved.<br />
<br />
I tried a new practice last night. I left my phone alone in my room and focused completely on feeding my huge family. Chilled with my boys, let them figure out the finer arts of chicken carving and serving dinner hot to hoards. Had to keep soothing my growing anxiety of my phone alone in my room. Telling myself over and over that my lover would survive the distance. That he wasn't craving connection like I was. That he would comfortably take it in his stride. That this separating time wasn't about love, or the lack thereof at all. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was subjecting him to feelings of abandonment because of my lack of presence. Coaching myself through it all was exhausting. By the time dinner was finally done and the dishes washed, I fell into bed, with a deep turmoil inside me. Didn't know how to even tell him what was in my mind. And then did another 'abandoning' thing. I told him I thought I needed to sleep to recover. Which I did.<br />
<br />
We said goodnight. He wasn't able to intuit that I needed loving words from him that would calm and reassure me. Maybe he wasn't capable of them either. I know I wasn't.<br />
<br />
So Waiting seems to be how I love. One of the ways I love. I think it's time for me to gently let go of that practice. It comes from a dysfunctional place in me. and if I am to heal then here is a good place to work at that. I end this piece, not with a hopeful sense of 'Eureka'. My heart feels heavy and sad, and my body wants to sleep, even though its only 9.30 am. I hope my lover will want to see this through with me. It feels like it won't be an easy path that I can facilitate lightly and make it feel simple. It feels dark and fraught. And I feel tired when I look at it. Growing healthier sometimes takes a very painful path. I'm walking it now.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
</blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
</blockquote>
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-6785493061522236172015-11-10T17:25:00.002+02:002015-11-11T09:59:41.229+02:00Finding Each Other in Conversation 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3XUXikMjo-k/VkI6oPNrFVI/AAAAAAAABCg/Sz8goTVs9lM/s1600/990a5f3522719f3f8e164eeec5f94044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3XUXikMjo-k/VkI6oPNrFVI/AAAAAAAABCg/Sz8goTVs9lM/s320/990a5f3522719f3f8e164eeec5f94044.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
Rodin<br />
<br />
Riverman and I are a thing. The L-word has been exchanged. Lovemaking has happened. I'm feeling so very very happy with him...and so have neglected my blogging programme. <br />
<br />
What I haven't done, luckily, because it often happens when one falls in love, is abandon my therapy work. Somehow I am succeeding in holding this loving space, and work the sore Trudy stuff at the same time.<br />
<br />
So much of our time is spent talking on WhatsApp. So I decided to create a few WhatsApp narrative posts to help me remember the important conversations Riverman and I have as we learn each other.<br />
<br />
This one happened while he was away with his kids on holiday, and I was down in Cape Town with my mates. Before the last blog, <a href="http://betterboundaries.blogspot.co.za/2015/10/more-than-just-kiss-on-park-bench.html">More than just a Kiss on a Park Bench</a><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:39 PM - Riverman: So what scares you?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:42 PM - Trudy: It changes. I'm scared of
falling for you. And you running for the hills when that happens. Leaving me
abandoned and in pieces. That would be an action replay on my past 3
relationships. Devastating.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:47 PM - Riverman: I tried to type an answer.
But Trudy this conversation we must have face to face. It is important.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:48 PM - Riverman: I am not prone to running
for the hills. But this is new to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:48 PM - Riverman: It feels so very right and
fills so much of that empty space.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:51 PM - Trudy: Well we're probably getting a
bit ahead of ourselves. ...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:51 PM - Trudy: I do this. ... Sorry. ... Bit
intense. ..<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:51 PM - Riverman: Yes. Over planning?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:52 PM - Riverman: Don't be sorry tho.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:52 PM - Trudy: ok. You have to promise me
something please. ..<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:52 PM - Riverman: Yes?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:53 PM - Trudy: And I'll promise it back<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:55 PM - Trudy: However this plays out, if it
has to end for any reason, you end it
well. With a conversation. An explanation. A truth. No ghosting. Disappearing.
Withdrawing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:56 PM - Riverman: Promise. At the very
beginning we discussed honesty. I promise you that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:57 PM - Riverman: You already know things
about me that no one else does.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:57 PM - Trudy: God. I'm so intense.
Sorry. Sorry. Too much<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:58 PM - Riverman: Trudy?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:58 PM - Riverman: This is good. Don't
apologize.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:59 PM - Riverman: I don't see you as probably
most people do... I'm lucky that way.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 10:59 PM - Trudy: Meaning?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:02 PM - Riverman: You seemed surprised that I
'saw' some of those aspects of your personality. But I am not coming into your
life through work, or your existing family, or your existing friends.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:02 PM - Riverman: I can, if you let me,
embrace more of you. If you let me...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:03 PM - Trudy: I scare people D.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:03 PM - Riverman: <span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">🙀</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:03 PM - Riverman: Which people?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:04 PM - Trudy: Men<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:04 PM - Trudy: Not women<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:04 PM - Trudy: My girlfriends adore me<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:04 PM - Trudy: Are you a girl?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:04 PM - Trudy: <span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">😁</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:05 PM - Riverman: All men are bad and to be
mistrusted..<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:05 PM - Riverman: <span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">👽</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:05 PM - Riverman: <span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">👹</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:05 PM - Trudy: But they're so delicious<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:05 PM - Trudy: When we met<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:06 PM - Trudy: And hugged Hello<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:06 PM - Trudy: Was I imagining you were
nervous?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:06 PM - Riverman: Very.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:06 PM - Trudy: I felt you trembling<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:06 PM - Riverman: Hehe!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:07 PM - Trudy: And then thought I'd got it
wrong<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:07 PM - Trudy: Why nervous?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:08 PM - Riverman: Expectation. Unknown I
guess.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:10 PM - Riverman: It surprised me too.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:10 PM - Trudy: And what are you most afraid
of?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:11 PM - Riverman: Being chewed up and spat
out by warrior dontfuckwithmewoman.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:12 PM - Trudy: Copout. But funny.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:12 PM - Trudy: She doesn't do that. She
protects the innocent.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:12 PM - Riverman: Seriously, not finding what
I want. And finding what I want.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:14 PM - Riverman: Your '<a href="http://betterboundaries.blogspot.co.za/2015/09/finding-my-sadness.html">sadness'</a> piece talks
to existence, not living. I want to find the living.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
(I had sent him a copy of my <a href="http://betterboundaries.blogspot.co.za/2015/09/finding-my-sadness.html">Sadness</a> blog)<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:16 PM - Riverman: I have been in a holding
pattern, and the expectation of getting beyond this is...can't find word<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:17 PM - Trudy: (I think living involves the
full spectrum of emotions though.)... *Still listening. ..<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:18 PM - Riverman: Yes, it does. But it has
lacked depth of feeling.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:18 PM - Riverman: Clarify. I have lacked...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:19 PM - Riverman: Control, getting it
done. Family. Stress. Sadness. Been
there.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:20 PM - Riverman: Important, but not
everything...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:21 PM - Trudy: How do you feel today?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:21 PM - Riverman: The last few days have been
really good.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:22 PM - Riverman: Fun. Connected.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:23 PM - Trudy: Good. I'm having fun too.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:24 PM - Trudy: I think we're braver in text.
It's harder when we talk to move into the braver conversations<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:26 PM - Riverman: Yes. But We'll get better.
Bet if you were right next to me here the conversation would have space for
braveness.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:26 PM - Trudy: Believe me, if I was next to you we wouldn't be talking
at all! !!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:27 PM - Riverman: Hehe!!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:28 PM - Trudy: Hey<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:28 PM - Riverman: Yes?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:28 PM - Trudy: You're keeping me up!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:28 PM - Riverman: Good!<o:p></o:p></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:28 PM - Riverman: Tough.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:29 PM - Trudy: Rheumatoid woman here! !!!<span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">💅</span>🏻<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:29 PM - Riverman: Ok, you're dismissed.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:29 PM - Trudy: Don't really wanna be<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:30 PM - Riverman: Understand. Sleep well.
Thanks.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:31 PM - Trudy: Like really don't wanna be<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:32 PM - Riverman: We've got days ahead.
Waiting...<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:32 PM - Trudy: Don't remind me<span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">😳</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:33 PM - Trudy: Thanks for holding me gently
tonight.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:33 PM - Trudy: Bye sexy man!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30/09/2015, 11:33 PM - Trudy: Still want you<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:33 PM - Riverman: My pleasure. Wish it was
for real.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:33 PM - Trudy: More<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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30/09/2015, 11:34 PM - Riverman: Want you too! <span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">😘</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">Next morning....</span></div>
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01/10/2015, 6:37 AM - Trudy: Shoooo<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 6:38 AM - Trudy: Seriously intense last night<span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">☺</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 6:38 AM - Trudy: That's a blush!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 6:58 AM - Riverman: Morning!<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:04 AM - Riverman: How're you?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:11 AM - Trudy: <span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">😊</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:11 AM - Trudy: Good<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 7:30 AM - Riverman: So I learned some stuff
about you last night<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:31 AM - Trudy: Oh dear<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:31 AM - Trudy: What did you learn<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:31 AM - Riverman: <span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">😄</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";"><br /></span></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:31 AM - Trudy: Cringing. ..<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:34 AM - Riverman: ...<suspense>.....<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:34 AM - Trudy: <span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">😖</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:35 AM - Riverman: ....cue dramatic music.....<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:35 AM - Trudy: You killing me!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:36 AM - Riverman: You're human!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:37 AM - Trudy: <span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">😝</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";"><br /></span></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:37 AM - Riverman: I like that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:37 AM - Trudy: Nooooooooo<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:37 AM - Riverman: Ok, with complexity. Better?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:38 AM - Trudy: Ok<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:38 AM - Trudy: Sigh<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:39 AM - Riverman: I like that too.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:39 AM - Trudy: Thank god<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:40 AM - Riverman: I think now, more than I
thought before, that we could be..no..mean more to each other than I thought.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:41 AM - Trudy: Shew<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:41 AM - Riverman: That is scary tho.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 7:41 AM - Trudy: Yup<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:07 AM - Trudy: Riverman<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:08 AM - Riverman: Yes?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:08 AM - Trudy: I do like you<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:08 AM - Riverman: That's good!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:09 AM - Trudy: I think I was probably trying
to scare you off last night<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:09 AM - Riverman: Should I go?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:09 AM - Riverman: ...is it too fast, Trudy?<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:10 AM - Trudy: Probably.<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:10 AM - Trudy: But that's me<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:10 AM - Trudy: Driving emotional intensity<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:10 AM - Trudy: I try to hold myself back. ..
but struggle to<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:11 AM - Riverman: Well then it is you, not so?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:11 AM - Trudy: Yup<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:11 AM - Trudy: So if you're scared you better
exit sooner rather than later. ...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:12 AM - Trudy: PG warning. .. Things could get
real<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:12 AM - Riverman: I am scared but not OF you.
But BECAUSE of you. Big difference.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:12 AM - Trudy: Tell me<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:13 AM - Trudy: What you mean by that?<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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01/10/2015, 8:19 AM - Riverman: Trudy, for me this decision
has been years in the mix. Intellectually it is there. But to be in the mix of
these - really good- things: the feelings, fun, potential... It is <can't
find word> overwhelming? Consuming? In a good but scary way.<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:20 AM - Riverman: So these feelings, this
potential, is what I thought and hoped about for so long. Now there you are....<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:22 AM - Riverman: I real see how difficult it
is to Programme this. So the scariness is 'riding the wave' I think.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:25 AM - Trudy: Riverman I am emerging from a
very tough space. It's been a year of emerging. And I am tough and sassy on the
outside and needy and fragile on the inside. I'm by no means 'sorted' yet. Some
days I'm great. Some days I wobble like mad. That could be more than you
bargained for<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:28 AM - Riverman: Let me make that choice.
Unless you're pushing...<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:29 AM - Trudy: I need to say that because I
don't want to reel you in under false pretenses. The sexy siren song that
brings you into a space where you feel you've been caught up in a crazy space<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:29 AM - Trudy: I'm not pushing<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:29 AM - Riverman: Ok.<o:p></o:p></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:29 AM - Trudy: Just aware that I can be too
much for people<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:30 AM - Trudy: And. Honesty moment. Terrified
of being rejected for that<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:30 AM - Trudy: Again<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:31 AM - Riverman: I hear you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:33 AM - Riverman: My experience is less, but
longer. The terror still big.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:33 AM - Riverman: Trudy?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:35 AM - Riverman: I am looking for more than a
fuck buddy. Reread my profile.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:35 AM - Trudy: I know<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:35 AM - Riverman: That means this is not a sex
transaction. It will be more complicated.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:35 AM - Riverman: But more rewarding.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:35 AM - Riverman: I hope.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:36 AM - Trudy: Me too<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:36 AM - Trudy: Shew<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:36 AM - Riverman: What I don't yet know is
whether I can meet your expectations/ needs fully.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:37 AM - Riverman: We both have other lives. Yours
possibly more sorted than mine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:37 AM - Riverman: How these fit together is an
experiment.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:37 AM - Riverman: It has to be.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:37 AM - Riverman: No manual for this stuff!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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01/10/2015, 8:37 AM - Trudy: Yup. We must walk gently<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:38 AM - Trudy: And decide if and how we can
craft it into something that fits nicely into our lives<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:38 AM - Trudy: and it does also depend on the
first kiss you know. ..<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:39 AM - Riverman: Yes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:40 AM - Riverman: Yes. We're not there
yet. In physical terms anyway<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:42 AM - Riverman: God. Lionel
Ritchie..."I've been alone with you inside my mind....</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:42 AM - Trudy: <span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";">😊☺</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "segoe ui symbol" , sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Symbol";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:48 AM - Riverman: "And decide if and how
we can craft it into something that fits nicely into our lives"... I like
that.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:49 AM - Trudy: Yes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:49 AM - Riverman: I think we can.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:50 AM - Trudy: I'm a time touch AND words
person.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:51 AM - Trudy: I would need us to be able to
create real connected time together. Doesn't need to be extremely frequent. ..I
know that's impossible<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:51 AM - Trudy: But needs to be<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
01/10/2015, 8:52 AM - Riverman: Good. Agree. As you know the
connection is what is big for me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I like this conversation because I can see myself being brave enough to be vulnerable. Telling him my truths as we go. Slowly opening myself to him. And him responding gently. Kindly. And reassuringly. As we tentatively move towards each other. Loving!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-15064339805110661802015-10-17T16:14:00.001+02:002015-10-17T16:23:02.882+02:00More than just a Kiss on a Park Bench<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8IZ13ayfqJc/ViJXhkzewoI/AAAAAAAABCE/7iLst1rSq60/s1600/3818401d917d51a7bad5496824de0df5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8IZ13ayfqJc/ViJXhkzewoI/AAAAAAAABCE/7iLst1rSq60/s320/3818401d917d51a7bad5496824de0df5.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
I'm having an idyllic afternoon. I'm in Kalk Bay, a really pretty seaside town. It's the most beautiful Saturday afternoon and I'm sitting at an outdoor table at a little restaurant overlooking the sea, which is an impossibly beautiful bluegreen, and gazing out at the mountains in the far distance.<br />
<br />
I bought a book at little bookstore on the corner (Essays in Love by Alain de Botton) and have had a beautiful couple of hours here by myself. Having a delicious meal, some flourless chocolate cake and a magnificent coffee.<br />
<br />
I'm happy. So so happy.<br />
<br />
Because in about 21 hours time, Riverman lands in this same town as me, and we are going to have the most beautiful night together. I know it.<br />
<br />
How can I be so very sure., having not yet sampled the 'delights of the human flesh' with him before? Well, mostly, I just know. And also, because when he kissed me on the park bench on our first, 'kissing date', I could feel that our's is going to be that beautiful, sensual, soulful lovemaking that I know is possible, but had to begun to despair at finding.<br />
<br />
When we kissed, we really kissed. Kissing in all it's flavours: I'm happy to meet you again kissing; I want to taste you more kissing; you bring out the tenderness in me kissing, the barely restrained edge of I want to ravish you kissing, I will kiss you again now because I can't get enough of you kissing, and, my personal favourite, the I want to climb onto your lap, wrap myself completely around you, and lose myself in you kissing...that kissing when even fully clothed, you feel like you're defenceless, vulnerable, sexy and naked. Just two souls, breathing each other in and experiencing the nearness of each other for the very first time. The warmth of the morning sun. The wind that blew too much. The coffee that tasted just magical because it was drunk in that space of heightened awareness and strong sexual desire..where everything is just more vivid. And the smiling. Couldn't stop smiling. And the looking. Into his blue blue eyes. Losing myself.<br />
<br />
This man and I have spent hours and hours talking and texting. Sharing our stories. Hearing each others thoughts. Defining ourselves to one another with words that are not actually enough to hold what's happening to us.<br />
<br />
I think I already love him. I think he may already love me too. We have not said so, because we're adults. In the middle of our lives. And know that saying those things would make us seem naive. Presumptuous. I don't know...that something like that is too premature. That this is not the time to say. Even though both of us are absolutely awestruck that we have found each other.<br />
<br />
But life is real. And complicated. His wife lands today. And he will be confronted with the reality of a situation that he needs to hold and honour. Even though his intimate life with her is many years in the past, she will not deal the idea of an open marriage easily. He needs to feel who she is when she returns now, and then decide how he will manage the way forward with her. He may tell her about me, he may not. He may bring her to the point where she can contemplate a relationship where he has his emotional and intimacy needs met outside his home, or he may decide that it is kinder to protect her from the truth. Not my marriage. Not mine to control in any way. Somehow, this feels ok to me. He will do his best by her, and he will love me. In fact he will love us both - just in very different ways.<br />
<br />
And no - even though I can feel these very delicous feelings of new love, and lust, and deep, soulful attraction to this man - I'm not changing my position on the fact that I want this precious time with him to exist outside of my current life. Even though my husband and children already know he exists, I still want to be able to find him in escape places. Coffee on a park bench. Hotel rooms on business trips, stolen magical moments rather than mundane domesticity. I think it will keep this space alive and magical for us for a long time. So we can both experience this side of ourselves that is sexy, playful, adventurous and capable of incredible soulful connection and sensual exploration.<br />
<br />
I now know, for sure, how very rarely in ones' life one comes across a connection as wonderful as this. I have no idea what life will throw at us, or whether this is a short season or a love that will last away the decades. And yet, I have decided, I will hold nothing back with this person. I will see him. And let myself be seen. And love him wholeheartedly with my body and my heart and my mind. And when it ends...because, I already I know that these things do that eventually, I will take the pain of it ending with the joy that it is creating in my life.<br />
<br />
It's already worth it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-15115087802495349242015-10-06T17:50:00.001+02:002015-10-06T18:05:15.732+02:00Oh there you are!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5vqw5Uiwes4/VhPtuYjOtKI/AAAAAAAABBs/27iGc00gesM/s1600/740c3cbdb68244a8a0bc5869bd391f17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5vqw5Uiwes4/VhPtuYjOtKI/AAAAAAAABBs/27iGc00gesM/s320/740c3cbdb68244a8a0bc5869bd391f17.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Just like that.<br />
<br />
He's here. This elusive 'Man' that I've been seeking. The one I thought I'd found with each of the misses that I've had over the past 18 months or so as I've waded through the layers and layers of work that I needed to do before I would even recognise him.<br />
<br />
He's been on Ashley Madison for a few years. I've glossed over his picture lots of times, never clicking on it because it broke my rules - was a picture of a guy's torso. No head. In a T-shirt. Nice build. But My Rules said that he wasn't bringing himself to this space properly so I would not invest. Eliminate from my process because, like the dick shots and the international sex chatters, I assumed all sorts of things about him that weren't true.<br />
<br />
But then, for whatever reason, I did click on him. And his challenge to me was: 'Don't be that girl who sits and waits for invitations to pour into your inbox...if you like my profile, contact me, and let's see if it's worth investing'..or something.<br />
<br />
So he is Riverman from my previous blog. We slowly and tentatively picked up our conversation over the weekend and have spent the most glorious week getting to know each other, albeit via cyberspace. He headed out to take his kids on holiday and has been in a Utopianesque space of being able to focus on just his kids. And me. And a little work here and there. And post my 'Tender' days, I've been giving myself the slack to just catch my breath a bit before I hit the road running with serious hard work again. <br />
<br />
And so we've both had the headspace to just be with each other. And it has been just so very lovely! The metaphor of the Ashley Madison picture being off my radar would have been true to this man in real life if I'd met him there first. I have not been ready to see a man like this until now.<br />
<br />
He's strong. Emotionally solid. Not swaggering or roguish like the men I am usually drawn to. He is passionate. Honest. Takes emotional risks and puts himself out there like I do. Before I do. He embraces my emotional oversharing, and is interested in what I have to tell. My stories. My challenges. My struggle. It's not boring or overwhelming for him...just intriguing. I feel seen. And I feel allowed to be me. I am not holding back on my emotional overshares that I'm famous for. I'm letting him just see me. It's safe enough. He's not judging me. Or trying to close me down. Or running like crazy from my disclosures. I've met someone who actually really gives a shit about this stuff of mine. And tolerates my darkness. Because he is already conversant with his own.<br />
<br />
We have spent hours talking and texting...telling each other our stories...confessing our secrets...sharing our passions...having the most connecting, sexy, inspiring cybersex I could ever imagine.<br />
<br />
Each day has brought new levels of exposure, vulnerability, trust, connection...and my heart feels so very full of joy at this connection. New Relationship Energy abounds and it feels heady and rich and beautiful.<br />
<br />
And in his presence I am feeling beautiful. I'm taking selfies when he asks (and sometimes when he doesn't). And framing myself in a way in those pictures that even I am seeing a beauty in myself that I haven't seen before. There's one. We both call it 'Boudoir Babe'. I took it in my bed one morning - naked, but with the sheets just beautifuly draped around me. I'm looking wistfully up at the camera. It captures a mood and a space that I would have loved to be in...and I am. Because she is me. He's deleted all the other, much more revealing and sexy shots I've sent him, for safety's sake. But, he said today, he can't bring himself to delete Boudoir Babe.<br />
<br />
I've shared with him some of my earlier blogs on my challenges with feeling beautiful. How it was sad and lost with Hubby, How John the Narc helped me find the goddess, but then his whole premise turned out to be a lie. How I've struggled to keep her in me through all these months of brutal trial and error with all the other men I've spent time with. And he has simply responded with enthusiastic passion, heartfelt affirmation, and raw desire to my photos, sexiness, and playful teasing.<br />
<br />
So I'm happy. In fact. I'm going to say this. Today I am the happiest I have felt since I started writing this blog! How interesting that I am able to be here, after being in deep sadness just a short 2 weeks ago!<br />
<br />
I'm not ignoring reality on this. God knows, I am a veteran of rugs being pulled out under me, abandonment, ghosting, and bitter disappointment. There's a huge risk that Riverman walks away from me. He has to go back home and figure out how to work this with his family. His situation isn't explicit. His wife may be too depressed and emotionally unable to tolerate the truth. He may need to hide this situation from her forever. Will he be able to? Will his guilt outweigh his joy? Unknowns. Uncontrollables. If that happens, I think I will be more heartbroken than I have been at any time in the past 18months.<br />
<br />
But I'm going to take the chance. Because I've used up my Sadness allocation for a bit. It's time for some joyful connection. Passionate sex. Soulful being.<br />
<br />
For however long this season lasts.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-56322128634569924372015-09-30T07:13:00.001+02:002015-10-28T07:55:49.037+02:00Cortisone and some Emotional Asprin hits the spot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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By Saturday morning I was done. Finished. Sadder than I could bear. My hands were swollen and sore. And my feet. And my heart was in the same place. I was halfway through my Tender with a weekend of work looming ahead of me. And Red had ignored my messages for a full week. Even my husband headed off cycling with his girlfriend without even saying goodbye. Or making me some fruit salad for breakfast...even when he knows I can't cut fruit for myself in the morning because of my rheumatiod flare.<br />
<br />
I suddenly hit 'intervention mode'. Showered. Took my pills. Got my fingers moving again. Cut that darn fruit and had my breakfast and coffee. Then walked up to the pharmacy to collect my new cortisone meds. I thought I might walk from there to my favourite coffee shop 2km away.. but by the time I got to the pharmacy I realised that I was being too ambitious for a post chemo Saturday morning and just stopped right there at the coffee shop next door to write some more of my Tender proposal.<br />
<br />
And then I just decided. I'm tired of being this sad, sore girl. Took my new cortisone. And opened up my Ashley Madison profile on my phone. Time for some emotional Asprin too!<br />
<br />
'Nooo' all my friends want to yell at this point. 'Step away from the Ashley Madison!!' But I didn't. I walked in there quietly, touched up my profile, and went live.<br />
<br />
And this time I decided to do something different. I just usually put up my profile and wait for the deluge of male offers. But post the hack, I was wondering whether, in fact, there were any men still out there. So I started browsing the profiles, looking to see if anyone actually caught my fancy.<br />
<br />
Found one. Shot him a quick message...and then realised I had a message in my inbox. From him. He had been typing to me at the same time as I was..interesting timing, I thought.<br />
<br />
Almost at the same time I saw another profile I normally would have ignored. Looked like another nice guy. Messaged him too. And after a couple of back and forthing, and a pile of pecker shots that started arriving from other men across the world, I decided to call it a day and exited. I think I had spent a total of about 20 minutes online.<br />
<br />
So now suddenly, there are two men. They kept me company through the hard weekend and into this week. They're both very different men, and I find myself liking them for very different reasons.<br />
<br />
I met 'Riverman' for coffee on Monday morning. We're both going to be in different towns for the next two weeks and I needed to be sure we had some sort of connection in real life to justify two weeks of online chatting. I've done this too many times before and suddenly I'm jaded. Don't want to get caught up in some whirlwind online imagination connection only to find that in real life nothing is there at all!<br />
<br />
He arrived nervous. Not that he said so, but I felt his body trembling when we hugged hello. And his mouth was dry. It was quite endearing really. Not suave and in control, but rather a little vulnerable and real. This feels important to him.<br />
<br />
We had a lovely hour. Interesting conversation. Silences didn't feel awkward. Just nice. A bit of lingering eye contact which felt promising. There is scope for sexy. He can stay.<br />
<br />
Then there's The Foreigner. He's in South Africa for a few years' appointment. Has a family in his country, older, and is looking for a connected lover in South Africa. Haven't met him face to face yet - that will happen on Saturday I think. But we met on the phone this morning. I'd have to get used to his accent I think. Not always easy to hear and understand everything he says. He's older, bolder than Riverman. I like him too. But I do have a little bit of a warning feeling about him. Is he for real? Narcish? I felt a bit spooked by yesterday's astrology prediction warning Capricorns to beware of people with hidden agendas. He scares me a little.<br />
<br />
So both men are staying in touch enthusiastically. Like Red did. I don't want to play them against each other, or even chat with them both simultaneously. It feels out of integrity, and I wouldn't really want them to be doing that to me. But I suppose it's early days for choosing a path. Maybe neither of them end up being the 'Lover Material' I need. I have no idea really.<br />
<br />
I don't want another 'Red' scenario. Someone pursuing me relentlessly and then backing off me once my heart is hooked in. I just can't take another premature heartbreak. I can feel myself backing off when both Riverman and The Foreigner try to get into closer into emotional risky talk. I know I'm afraid to go there now.<br />
<br />
I was saying to shrink that I don't know whether I've learned enough to be able to walk carefully through this unscathed. But it does take the fun out of this part a bit. I'm becoming guarded, jaded, cautious in my interactions. That protects me I suppose. But it's not very romantic. She said she was reminded of a saying that says in order to write great Poetry, you have to stay well away from Philosophy and Psychology!<br />
<br />
So can I stay in the play with this a bit? Just 'be' in it with these men and enjoy the seduction process? I'm so aware that I don't want to hurt either of them, but, as my shrink was reminding me, they're grown men and are responsible for their own hearts. My job is to protect myself.<br />
<br />
OK then. I'll try that. Play. Be in it. Have some fun with these boys. And see where it takes us!<br />
<br />
Oh....and the cortisone? Worked like a charm! Monday morning, after 2 days on it, I woke up with almost perfect hands. No paws. Very little pain. It was so exciting!! I whatsapped ALL my mates the good news.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately my good fortune only lasted a day. This morning the paws were back! But I have been SUPER stressed with work over the past few days, so hopefully over the next couple of days, while I chill with my best friend in Cape Town, my body will calm down enough for the meds to kick in properly and I can find a better space.<br />
<br />
Can't wait!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-31064972164735898572015-09-24T18:38:00.001+02:002015-09-24T20:15:24.716+02:00The Risk Exchange<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tawADGnSVDg/VgQl6FbKozI/AAAAAAAABA0/-iuikj3VuE0/s1600/2b7500bed7a6de8f5173b5fa28651af5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tawADGnSVDg/VgQl6FbKozI/AAAAAAAABA0/-iuikj3VuE0/s320/2b7500bed7a6de8f5173b5fa28651af5.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
Really interesting article I read in PsychologyToday.com last night. I've been thinking about it all day. For people like me who actually couldn't spot a functional human being if he was the only person standing in the Namib desert, I thought this may help me notice some Red Flags in the early stages of a relationship. It's about how people deal 'risk' with each other. Check it out at <a href="https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/healing-and-growing/201509/start-new-relationship-the-right-way">https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/healing-and-growing/201509/start-new-relationship-the-right-way</a>.<br />
<br />
So I realise that I am owning too much of the risk early in a potential relationship. I put myself out there, and when my men don't reciprocate with equal disclosure I feel terrible. Vulnerable. Exposed. Heartsore. And then blame myself. And then tell myself to dial it back a bit. Or a lot. And if he gives me something vulnerable, I hold it. Cherish it. Reciprocate carefully so he doesn't ever feel that horrible exposed and vulnerable feeling I have a lot. I protect him from that. Because I know how dreadful it feels. Maybe I risk too much too early? Yes, I'm sure I risk too much too early. I need to be more careful about that.<br />
<br />
And I suppose that people who risk too much scare those who risk too little. But there I go again, owning all of the responsibility. And actually I think I should be asking the question - 'What ASSHOLE would let me hang out to dry like that?!' And the answer is, of course, the Assholes that I keep choosing, keep being drawn to.<br />
<br />
And if hanging me out to dry by leaving me to carry all the emotional risk is a criterion for Asshole, then I guess I've chosen a whole pile of them in the past year. Stellenbosch Banker? Yes. Mark? Yes. Berlin? Yes. Bush man? Not really - he was pretty clear. Tasmanian? Yes and no. Charlie Harper? FUCK YES. The CEO? Another FUCK YES.<br />
<br />
And Red? Yes. Finally yes. Yes I am prepared to say that Red has to go under the Asshole column. I don't want him under that column. I want the Red that I met at first: the full on, enthusiastic, open, passionate man who swept me off my feet even in my reluctance, and won my heart! But that's not the Red I have now. The Red I have now is Asshole Red. The Red who will, like the others, let me carry the emotional risk and leave me vulnerable, heartbroken, grieving and sad. And will ask me to keep in touch, and when I do, just let me blow out there in the wind.<br />
<br />
I sent him this. My open-hearted truth in all its glory. Vulnerable. Raw. Honest.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
22/09/2015, 6:54 PM - Trudy: So how does it work? How does one be 'half' in something?</blockquote>
No answer.<br />
<br />
Next morning:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
23/09/2015, 7:52 AM - Trudy: I'm trying to imagine how that might feel. And all I can come up with is 'mediocre'. Because when you're holding yourself back to protect your heart in a situation like that surely your life experience is muted. Greyed out.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
23/09/2015, 7:53 AM - Trudy: Bland.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
23/09/2015, 7:54 AM - Trudy: Like looking at a table of magnificent food and choosing just the leek soup because there may be an unpleasant taste in one of the dishes hitherto unexplored.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
23/09/2015, 7:57 AM - Trudy: There are so many things I've held back on in my life. Mostly physical risk things that my hubby and kids do and I'm too afraid. They relish those moments. I hold their cokes and jerseys. Muted and grey. Because I'm afraid.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
23/09/2015, 7:59 AM - Trudy: Weird. I'm terrified of physical risk. And I hold myself back from that. But emotional risk. ... Not so much. There I want to be wholehearted. Open and free. Rich and beautiful.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
23/09/2015, 8:01 AM - Trudy: The risk is huge. Heartbreak. Sadness. Loss. Grief. I've felt them all deeply before. I'll feel them again I'm sure.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
23/09/2015, 8:03 AM - Trudy: But I want that magnificence that comes from loving wholeheartedly. Being safe enough to let go and relish the sheer joy, however fleeting, that comes with that.</blockquote>
<br />
He read it.<br />
<br />
Didn't respond.<br />
<br />
Still hasn't.<br />
<br />
Asshole.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-13441906677664958402015-09-24T13:20:00.000+02:002015-09-24T15:41:27.811+02:00We met. But what is Closure Anyway?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qnMSQ4g-_vA/VgPcO3bIXyI/AAAAAAAABAk/GZWv8CMeSck/s1600/01c7e9bce89ee4d1c70aed2a232e0b99.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qnMSQ4g-_vA/VgPcO3bIXyI/AAAAAAAABAk/GZWv8CMeSck/s320/01c7e9bce89ee4d1c70aed2a232e0b99.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>
Finally. After 66 days. We sat opposite each other in a coffee shop to have the conversation I really wanted. The conversation Red should have initiated in the first place as part of the 'right thing to do' if you're stepping away from an intimate relationship, and instead of a 120 character WhatsApp message.<br />
<br />
It was nice to see him again. We were very quickly able to relax into the conversations we're good at having - light, comfortable...the catchup on what's been going down for the past few months. He's moved out. Divorce lawyer conflicts escalating. Nasty relations between him and ex-wife. Settling into bachelor life. Spending real time with kids. Reconnecting with old pals who weren't compatible with his ex-wife. Sometimes he's peaceful. Sometimes he's lonely. He's not regretting leaving. He's stressed about the future.<br />
<br />
And me? I'm working hard. I'm lonely. I spent some time chasing new AMboys but they weren't Red. So stopped. The Tasmanian and Bush Man popped up for a play but I turned them both down because it's not time for me to do that. Because my heart is too heavy.<br />
<br />
We talked business strategy. Work challenges. Child challenges.<br />
<br />
And then, my conversation: I wanted him to know what I was really wanting. Because I thought he may have backed off because he imagined me wanting more of him than he is prepared to give. So I told him - I want a Lover Relationship. An escape from my real life. Fleeting, stolen moments. Sexual monogamy (for emotional safety and STD protection). Not meeting each other's families. Not demanding more time than we can both spare. Connection. Sex. Stolen time. Weekends away sometimes. Overnights sometimes. But no lifetime commitments. A time where 'now' is what counts. Until it doesn't work for one of us. And then we exit. In truth.<br />
<br />
I think is what I wish I had communicated. I did manage to convey some of it. But this is real raw hard truth for me. So execution is messy and clumsy. I guess the gist of it came across. I did manage to tell him that I know I am inclined to prezel myself into whatever shape my man would want of me. And that I need to practice not doing that, starting with him.<br />
<br />
He responded the same. He doesn't know what he wants. Doesn't want to make a commitment now. Thought he wanted an affair and then decided to leave his wife anyway. So what does he want? Fuck buddy? Friend with Benefits? Long term relationship? He doesn't know. Doesn't want to be unfair to me by stringing me along until he makes up his mind. Is afraid that if he finally makes up his mind in two months' time that he actually wants a Lover Relationship with me that I'll be long gone by then. Knows it's not fair to ask me to wait.<br />
<br />
Then he asked me to stick around. Stay in touch. At that moment I had to hold back my tears. I said I didn't know how to be half-in something. He said he did know that.<br />
<br />
And then he was gone. Rushing off to fetch his child from a school function. And I sat for a while. And then left too..<br />
<br />
I have sent him WhatsApp messages since then, staying in touch. Like he asked. Vulnerable messages. Just saying my truth. He read them and didn't respond. At all.<br />
<br />
What. The FUCK.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-55279154350913536142015-09-16T19:07:00.001+02:002015-09-16T19:08:41.621+02:00Rheumatoid Flare:1, Trudy:0<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bbkuEHrNEy8/VfmhxpvCqpI/AAAAAAAABAU/YMdYXrAh9bk/s1600/f6a8000e8ae691f64e219ada5593982a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bbkuEHrNEy8/VfmhxpvCqpI/AAAAAAAABAU/YMdYXrAh9bk/s320/f6a8000e8ae691f64e219ada5593982a.jpg" width="181" /></a></div>
11 Weeks and counting. My flare was a little better the past few days while I was in Amsterdam. I wonder if the sea level air pressure or moist climate has anything to do with it? Or maybe my meds were finally kicking in? Or maybe the stress was less?<br />
<br />
I've only known about this disease inside me for about 18 months. And I have to confess, I don't think I've really got a handle on it yet.<br />
<br />
I read a lot about it, and I see that people who manage to live with it with most vitality are the ones who follow a healthy lifestyle. Eat well, exercise well, and manage stress well. Eating well means, for me I think, being sugar free and dairy free mostly. I notice that if I take in a lot of dairy and sugar together, I wake up the following day with swollen hands and feet - something in this autoimmune body of mine there is a sad resistance to all things delicious!<br />
<br />
But now I'm flagging. I have huge projects to deliver, and high level Tenders to produce. I sit in front of my laptop and try to produce the output I need. But nothing happens. My brain doesn't engage. I end up troubleshooting all the other little tasks around me that need doing, and allow myself to avoid the big painful one.<br />
<br />
I have always had a bit of a tendency to procrastinate, but this is bigger than that. Rheumatoid Arthritis has Brain Fog as a symptom. Hashimotos has Brain Fog as a symptom. The chemo I take has chemo brain as a side effect. I suppose I have to expect that I'll have at least one of those afflictions sending me it's symptom. I have no idea which one. But here I sit anyway. Stuck. Afraid. Nervous. Stressing. Not sleeping. Feeling the building tension that seems to be making my Rheumatoid worse again now I'm back in South Africa.<br />
<br />
Every morning now I'm waking up with hands frozen. They feel more like paws...fingers stuck on 'curl' until I have a warm shower and take my Anti Inflammatories! It is making me feel depressed and despondent. When I go to the toilet first thing in the morning, I am unable to hold the toilet paper to wipe myself clean. It seems like a simple thing, but it feels quite devastating actually. That's a basic thing I take completely for granted and suddenly I can't do that in the morning. I'm working hard to keep this desease at bay, and yet it seems to continue marching at me, ignoring my attempts at mitigation.<br />
<br />
Once I've delivered my Tender at the end of the month, I think I'll have to take a few days off to try and destress myself. I'm thinking that the building tension is impacting the flare I'm having and making things worse. I think that actually writing my tender may also help me feel better - I must apply myself more to that.<br />
<br />
I feel like even writing this peice is coming to me heavily. The ideas aren't flowing the way they usually do. The thoughts and words feel stilted and stuck, like me.<br />
<br />
And still I pine for Red. We have intermittent spurts of trying to meet up. And then the efforts die down again and nothing happens. I'm pretending to myself that I'm not waiting for him. And yet I wait and wait and wait. It's agony, this waiting. I don't want to be here, doing that. I want to have someone who would hold me at this time, offer to sit next to me on the weekend, and give me moral support while I write my way through this mountain of a tender. I want Red to be that person.<br />
<br />
But he won't. I do know this at some deep level.<br />
<br />
It's still just me. Fucking lonely me.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-77128685332084604512015-09-09T11:00:00.002+02:002015-09-09T11:01:12.705+02:00Finding my Sadness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O4lbZIyANfo/Ve_06X3TudI/AAAAAAAAA_8/zVg6jyycafw/s1600/8af10ff74891a54c2092e030952afec1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O4lbZIyANfo/Ve_06X3TudI/AAAAAAAAA_8/zVg6jyycafw/s320/8af10ff74891a54c2092e030952afec1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
First rains of the Southern Hemisphere spring arrived yesterday. It's cold and miserable outside and I've spent the morning in my pj's reading articles online. I eventually drifted onto my blog and started taking myself through some of my pieces from a year ago.<br />
<br />
Wow. I was a very sore girl then. Struggling with the cognitive dissonace of emerging from that horrible ground zero moment of just losing everything, including myself. I'm still sore, but the pain has shifted. I guess I understand the loss more now. I have learned that the loss was not John-the-narc. Or the life I had before him. The loss is actually the illusion I had of my life.<br />
<br />
I have lost the picture I created for myself about the perfect world. The life I painted for myself in my own head that denied so much of my reality. I know that I spent many years running ahead of my deep sadness and loneliness. And masked it for myself in all sorts of ways. I believed loneliness was for losers. And they have only themselves to blame. So I created noise noise noise to eliminate the voices in my soul that wanted to draw my attention to that pain. Running. Doing. Marrying. Building. Mothering. Performing. Worrying. Learning. Growing. Shagging new men. Loving. Being unloved in return. Getting sick. Healing. Years and years of busyiness. More and more work and loads to carry.<br />
<br />
All masking this deep sad lonely girl sitting at the core of me. Mute. Alone. Lost.<br />
<br />
And so now the sadness I feel is her's. The sad, lonely girl at my core. I have put down enough things to be able to let her grief come through. There is less noise at my centre. And I feel her pain. Of course, I want to keep on running from it. It's horrible, this lonely sadness. And my lifetime-honed skill at escaping this pain keeps begging me to run again. And I do, often. In little fits and starts. Until I remember again that running won't really help me. That this pain at the core of me needs feeling. Moving through. Holding, until it's felt it's fill.<br />
<br />
I still have not cried. I know there are a lifetime of tears sitting inside me still. Unshed. Waiting. I don't know what for. I think of that Disney movie again when I think of those tears. Inside Outside. Where Joy draws a circle on the floor and instructs Sadness to stay in that circle. I think I have done that to my sadness. She can stay, so long as she stays in the circle. Joy is terrified of what may transpire if Sadness oversteps her circle. The chaos! The devastation. Joy can't abide that. She would prefer to keep things light and 'together' forever. Of course that doesn't happen, because life isn't like that, is it? Sadness must out.<br />
<br />
And life gets richer when Sadness is part of the range of healthy emotions we allow ourselves to experience. If we allow it. I think I know this intellectually, but I'm having a really hard time letting Sadness be. Still, I try to contain and hold her, and not allow her to spill out and contaminate my world. And I have also become wise enough over time to know that I can't force this thing. That this barrel of unshed tears that is still travelling between my heart and my throat will unleash itself in it's own time. And I need to just be patient with myself and trust that I will find my way there when it's time.<br />
<br />
A dear friend of mine had her sadness overcome her last week. She booked herself into a psychaitric hospital. I'm standing close to her and loving her well as best I can. She's on anti depressants and giving herself the time and the space she needs to recover and heal this space. I can't help feeling a bit envious of her: she seems to be able to access this stuff inside her a lot more readily than me. She has such great instincts about it all. She is getting well, slowly. I take so much longer to learn these lessons. And I have no anti depressants.<br />
<br />
Feels like going through major surgery. Without an anaesthetic.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-43856420484088023032015-08-24T20:42:00.001+02:002015-08-24T21:54:46.957+02:00 The Hidden Online Profile<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm in Amsterdam. Came in yesterday afternoon and saw my client in Arnheim today. Landed a deal! That was worth the trip!!<br />
<br />
But I was afraid of coming here. Afraid of once again wandering through the streets of a beautiful old city and feeling lonely again. Like <a href="http://betterboundaries.blogspot.nl/2015/01/barcelona-alone.html">Barcelona</a>. Barcelona was beautiful and lonely. I ached there by myself and promised myself I wouldn't travel alone again. And then I did. Now, for example.<br />
<br />
And for the past two weeks, while I have been planning this business trip, I've felt the fear sitting on my chest. And in my stomach. Fear of what? I don't really know. But the loneliness is the most likely answer.<br />
<br />
And so here I am. Not lonely. Go figure! Just actually finding a good mix between work engagements, chatting to mates on Facebook and WhatsApp, and wandering the streets and waterways of Amsterdam. And sampling copius amounts of food. Delicious new things. And watching the people.<br />
<br />
I've also been watching the people online. Seeing the debate rage about the Ashley Madison Hack. Reading through the sanctimonious judging assholes as they take pleasure in the pain and fear that the exposed are experiencing. And the cheating assholes responding to their jeering. And other cheating assholes denying ever having done anything on Ashley Madison except talk to fake profiles and netbots. Finding someone who actually admits to meeting people: actual real live relationships that may or not involve sex...none of those things happend. It's almost as hard to find anyone in South Africa who once voted for the Apartheid government in the bad old days!<br />
<br />
I am clearly one of the very rare people out of 33 million who met up with live actual men, if the stories are to be believed. Not one of the men that I met and actually had sex with had wives, although the Tasmanian was in a committed long term relationship. And Red was on the way out of his. And Berlin was in a similarish open 'don't ask don't tell' situation, (not that Berlin and I had 'The actual sex' mind you...). Some that I met and decided to not have sex with were married. It felt weird. I'm glad I didn't go there. And glad I pulled out of the Tasmanian situation as fast as I did - I couldn't really abide the lack of integrity that comes from consciously lying to one's spouse. So my AM men are watching the 'exposure' with interest, rather than panic. We all would prefer this not spilling into our professional public domain, but aren't concerned our relationships will be affected. There's that part where I really don't want my kids to be exposed to this, and I hope that won't happen. I used a fake name and email address.<br />
<br />
So shrink set me some homework, which I'm about to start: I need to write out my 'hidden' online dating profile. I'm sitting in a pub in Amsterdam having dinner by myself, and so now is as good a time as any, I suppose.<br />
<br />
I haven't deleted my AM profile yet. I suspect that AM is a bit of a Ghost Town at the moment. But I haven't been back there since Red. I'm not completely sure it's over with Red, and I'm also trying now to not fling myself into yet another tough relationship. If he's not to be, I want to try to give myself some time out to recover more before I re-engage.<br />
<br />
So my online profile reads like this:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #454545; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.7999992370605px;">I'm in a consenting open marriage. I want a relationship with a man who will enjoy exploring this life phase with me. My dream mate is clever. Successful. Soulful. Sexy. Healthy. Strong. Kind. Funny. Solid.I have lived life and learned stuff. I value wisdom and lifelong learning. I'm a curious thinker about the human condition. I write. I read. I work out (within reason). And I work.I want soulful connection and hot sex! Sometimes at the same time! An intimate life companion without the domestic ordinary that comes with marriage and kids. A place to escape sometimes and be this other part of me. Love Scammers that trawl this site: stay the fk away from me. I know your game and I'm not interested in playing. You'll be wasting your time with me.</span></blockquote>
<br />
It's all true. Not one lie or fake word here. But there is a lot of stuff missing of course - the stuff I wouldn't put in the shop window.<br />
<br />
Would it read more like this?<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I'm 48 and fucked up. Piles of baggage. Tough childhood stuff shaped me and tough adult stuff drove the message home. I will seduce and entice you with my sexy siren song, and flip on you the minute you show me any interest. I'm not hard to get. I'm far too fucking easy, and give my heart away to undeserving assholes who don't know what a gift it is. I love wholeheartedly, intensely, overwhelmingly. If left unchecked I can smother you with whatever I think you need. I'll think for you, love for you, anticipate your every need, and overcompensate for your shortcomings. I'll let you get away with anything because I'm afraid you'll leave. I'll be dileriously happy with whatever crumbs of love and affection you'll leave me. If you don't match my connection enthusiasm with texts and calls and meetups, if you take hours to read my texts, and even longer to respond, I'll panic and imagine you gone, and turn into a clingy wretch, and pursue you relentlessly, seeking approval and reassurance from you. But I'll forgive you anything you do - I'll protect you from the pain you cause me, and carry it all inside my fragmented and fragile heart. And if you need to leave me, I'll wait for you: days, weeks, months. Take all the space you need. Take everything you need: I'll put my needs on hold for you for as long as you need me to. Love me. I beg you. Love me.</blockquote>
<br />
Also all true.<br />
<br />
I don't want it to be true for me any more.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-62530371627386091132015-08-18T20:11:00.003+02:002015-08-18T20:12:35.404+02:00Is it just my Placeholder?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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No sooner had I posted my previous blog when I found a message from Red on my phone. After 2 weeks of no contact, he sent me an article with advice on things to drink for my Rheumatoid Arthritis. Which I think was probably his way of telling me he's not completely gone yet. I was so very pleased to hear from him...it calmed my very sore soul for a couple of days. And since then we've had a light chat going, about him moving out. About anything. With days between comments. And nothing about meeting and talking.<br />
<br />
And I have carried this very very deep pain in me through all these weeks. The abandonment pain. The yearning. The waiting. My Rheumatoid has been flaring for weeks. Inflammation all over my body. I've upped my chemo meds, and my anti inflammatories. But still I'm waking up every morning now with swollen hands and feet. I know that at some deep level this is my body responding to my pain. That this very very deep and sore old pain is rearing up into my hands and feet and reminding me, all the time, how very very sore I am. Sore in my heart. Sore in my body.<br />
<br />
He's moved out. And is coming to terms with what this new life is to be. He hasn't told me very much about it at all. I so want to see deeper into his life, and walk this time with him.<br />
<br />
But I don't think it's going to be. I think actually I have no idea whether I am pining for Red, or if he's just yet another placeholder for my nameless yearning. I'm tired. So very deeply tired of this cycle that I'm on. Hunt a boy. Meet him. See possibility and hope. Find a connection. Or not. Deepen the connection. Open my heart. Begin to hope and celebrate the beginning of joy in my heart. And then he leaves. And I'm left yearning. Aching. Waiting. Sad sad sad. Its just a cycle of one placeholder after another.<br />
<br />
I no longer have the naive belief that there is 'the one' out there waiting for me. I don't believe in happily ever after. I think all relationships eventually fail or fade. I can't see a future that is a very long term one. All I want to do is be with someone who will hold me. Love me. Even if that doesn't last forever. And how long is forever anyway? I nearly died twice this past year. That could really happen. Any day. I want to be loved and held now.<br />
<br />
Because I'm tired tired tired of being so very fucking lonely every fucking day.<br />
<br />
So I came out of my therapy session with my shrink today and messaged Red:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
We were going to meet up. So I wouldn't have to be the girl who got dumped on WhatsApp. You said your demon was about escaping into yourself. Mine is about abandonment. I guess both of our demons are úp' right now. I'm sad. Fucking sad. Thought you should know. Because I have not done anything until now to let you know that. </blockquote>
<br />
It may well be our last piece of communication. I have no idea.<br />
<br />
But I do know I just can't fucking do this any more.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
</blockquote>
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-57630638266855720582015-08-11T10:44:00.000+02:002015-08-11T11:40:50.499+02:00It's a Heartache<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm in the Madikwe again. My mate with a Game Lodge had a free bed for the weekend so I just got in my car! It's a beautiful Eco Lodge with no game fences, so the big five are free to wander through the camp at any time. This morning we're holed up in the lounge because we've just seen a huge male lion in the camp looking for water. I'm pinching myself that I can actually just do that - get in my car and watch this magnificent creature in the African Bush! Magical!<br />
<br />
I'm still carrying my bruised heart around with me, trying hard to hold it gently and work through the sadness of Red's exit. I'm having conversations in my head wth him, cross with him for leaving. Cross he let me open to him, and then closed himself so very finally to me. By WhatsApp. Really! I keep imagining how I would respond if he came back to me at some stage. Do I rebuke him because, fuck! Who does that to someone?? Or do I give him a chance to win me back because I do understand actually why he closed down and disappeared to focus on ending his marriage, moving out and dealing his kids.<br />
<br />
As I got to Madikwe yesterday, my car radio was playing that old Bonnie Tyler song, ' It's a Heartache'. Shew. I can't imagine how many times I've sung along to that song and not really taken in their lesson:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
'It aint wise to need someone, as much as I've depended on.....You'</blockquote>
<br />
I think I keep on making the mistake of assuming that everyone feels the intense stuff I do. And not really understanding how they can easily walk away after feeling what I feel. But I think what I feel does have a lot to do with my own wounding. The co-dependant, needy, clingy stuff that is awakened in me at the slightest hint of connection is not what everybody goes through. The addiction stuff that rears up at the first taste of 'Sugar' is something that people like me suffer. For us, walking away like that would be almost impossible. Instead, we hang around, craving any crumb that may fall from the table, hoping that soon there will be more.<br />
<br />
And the opposite of this clingy needy addiction is 'cutoff'. A complete closedown of all communication because it is a final desperate attempt at self protection. We assume that because you leave, you don't want us at all, because we're somehow undesireable. And that hurts like hell. Even if it's completely untrue!<br />
<br />
So I keep fantasising about the message I'll send Red on 1 September, 1 month after our last WhatsApp conversation. It says something like "1 month no contact? I guess that means you really are the guy who dumped me by WhatsApp! Wow."<br />
<br />
And because I'm so very fked up about how these things usually go, I have no idea whether this is a really good idea or a really bad one. I think I'm hoping it shames him into contacting me again and setting up a coffee for that deeper conversation; lets him know that I'm still up for something, even though it's rather negative. Or maybe a more positive contact is better: 'Hey you! How's the whole Bachelor Life treating you?' And that feels less needy and more tough. But doesn't it hide all this really sore process I'm going through, waiting for him to make good on his promise? Aren't I just hiding this emo part of me so he'll like me more and come back?<br />
<br />
You see? Lots and lots of co-dependent stuff still oozing through me...I can't shake the thoughts that I am the reason he left, even though he was so very explicit that he needed to do this thing alone! I keep believing that I just wasn't good enough for him, and haven't done enough to 'Earn' his love. This is the core stuff that I still need to heal more in myself, before I can truly engage with someone in relationship again.<br />
<br />
If I don't, I'm going to be Narc Bait. And we all know how that ends...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-52004531010668229152015-08-03T15:12:00.002+02:002015-08-03T15:14:00.136+02:00My Heart is a Ghost Town<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So I stopped waiting. Red missed his deadline. I got on the plane and flew to Cape Town. And I've heard nothing from him at all.<br />
<br />
So here I am, trying to do this sore heart recovery thing again and move on. Already I am able to get through hours of not even thinking about him, and his face is slowly but surely slipping from my mind. Yesterday I landed and already had an Ashley Madison date set up for myself. A companiable walk on the beach and then a happy coffee on the beachfront was a lovely way to begin my Cape Town working few days. The AM boy is a lovely man, and we enjoyed each others' company a lot. But no chemistry at all for me. He was very complimentary about me - was so very pleasantly surprised that I was who I said I was. Told me how beautiful I am, and what a classy lady he perceives me to be. Was good salve for my soul - just to be reminded that I could be considered a good catch by some. He's not really my 'type' I don't think, but I really enjoyed my time with him.<br />
<br />
Spent the evening contentedly alone, on my couch, watching TV. And then started today with yet another Cape Town based Ashley Madison coffee date. Ugh. What a contrast. A younger guy. Who bored me from about the 3rd word that came out of his mouth. I was so wishing I could politely get him to leave so I could rather use the time to get some emails done...<br />
<br />
And that's when the sadness came at me again. I know I'm about to start another period, so I'm thinking that the hormones are probably to blame for my sad state of mind, but wow - suddenly I'm just sad sad sad.<br />
<br />
I'm working with Mark today, and even that isn't enough to clear these cloudy heavy feelings I have. That song, 'My Heart is a Ghost Town' keeps playing through my head. It means something different to me than the original songwriter intended, though. I feel like the ghosts of all the men I've loved keep appearing in front of me. And when they do, I don't feel recovered from my pain at their loss. It's like it's fresh again. Each one, as he appears, makes me feel that wounding again. The sadness of their abandonment. The searing pain of rejection. I rehave my conversations with them in my head - telling them my side of the conversation, explaining to them that they were wrong to go - that I'm perfect for them...they just didn't stay around long enough to realise it.<br />
<br />
Red's ghost is freshest: I tell that ghost that I'm not looking for heavy immersion and commitment. That I just want him to be my lover. In a light and connected way. That both of us have families, companies to run, and that I don't expect to be able to see him too much. That he doesn't need to be afraid of my neediness. That I won't be too heavy for him. That I would be a good companion for him while he goes through all of this tough breakup stuff with his wife. That he and I can find some joy together. But the ghost doesn't respond. Doesn't hear me. Doesn't turn to me with his arms open and welcome me into his space. I tell him I'm out here dating again because I want to scare him into coming back to me, not taking me for granted. I want him to be afraid that he is losing me so he will fight for me. I tell him that I'm sad because these two men are not him. That I found what I was wanting in him, and I don't want to start looking afresh. But the ghost looks right through me. Doesn't see me. Has forgotten me already.<br />
<br />
I read an astrology chart for myself yesterday. It said I need to remember that all my emotional sadness is about my emotional addiction, not about actual realtionships that are past. I think that is the most spot on assessment I've ever heard. I think it is that. Each of these ghosts are simply embodying this addiction of mine. The pain of being alone always. The sadness and yearning I had for a narcissistic mother and absent father that permeated every waking day of my childhood, now recreated in these ghosts of men past. The danger for me is when I try to deal with that addiction with the actual men themselves rather than their ghosts.<br />
<br />
And today, with my heart heavy and sad, and my hormones creating a weight in me, I am more at risk for sending that heartfelt plea and emotional overshare that seems to be what sends them all running for the hills. Today is the day that I must practice just not doing that. Holding myself in all my sadness and not trying to hand over this pain for somebody else to hold. Berlin has told me it's too scary and too much. Mark has told me it's too much. The normal men in the world, the non-narcs, are giving me the feedback that it's just too much.<br />
<br />
So the conversations with the ghosts will have to do. Because the live men are gone. The addiction is howling. My heart is sad. And I wander this ghost town alone.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-60201518555902316832015-07-29T08:52:00.000+02:002015-07-29T13:14:29.125+02:00The Expert Waiter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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No. Not the kind of waiter you would expect to find in a restaurant.<br />
<br />
But rather a person who waits. My shrink was pointing out to me yesterday that this seems to be one of my own personal brand of expert skills. Learned and shaped through a lifetime of waiting. Waiting for my mom. Waiting for my dad. Waiting for my alcoholic ex-husband to come home after long nights of drinking and debauchery. Waiting for my current husband to finish off all of his other priorities and find some time for me. Waiting for my ex-lover Narc to come back to me after every blow up fight where he would disappear to 'regroup', (now to be understood as going off to fuck other women).<br />
<br />
Waiting is probably most about waiting for my dad to emerge from his cave. His artist's studio where he would paint for hours at a time, cleverly escaping my mom's bullying in there. It was a no-go area for us kids. He wanted to paint alone. And we were never allowed to see his magnificent oil paintings until they were finished. That often took months. I used to sneak into that studio when he wasn't around. And dip one of his paintbrushes into the paint, and dot a few colours onto each and every painting. Don't know why I did that. He never said anything if he actually noticed. But I would look at those paintings in their prohibited unfinished state and long for my dad.<br />
<br />
This longing, waiting feeling is such an old familiar one. I didn't realise that not everyone feels it. It seems to be a creation of my own particular circumstance. To love seems to be 'to long' for me. I am unable to remove the object of my longing from my mind and heart so I can wholeheartedly focus on my other commitments. Instead I carry it like a heavy stone that sits between my heart and my throat all the time. And it feels like a barrel of unshed tears just travelling inside me.<br />
<br />
So here I am, waiting again. For Red. Shrink says she doesn't want to see me waiting again for anyone. That the danger in my waiting is the red flag that I'm going there again - once again attracted into a dynamic that is so destructive for me. Where my needs and desires need to be put on hold while the man I desire gets the time and space to do whatever he thinks he needs to make his life work.<br />
<br />
I know that a lot of this waiting phase is of my own making. I could have just taken Red's first assertion that he needs to be alone to deal his separation and letting me go on WhatsApp as the final word. I didn't. I fought for the connection. I asked for a conversation, even if it's just going to be a conversation of closure. So I have managed myself into this painful and old, familiar place while I wait it out. Familiar, sore, dangerous place for me.<br />
<br />
Shrink says I have always fought for the connection. Always had to sit patiently while the person I need love from does their own thing, oblivious to the internal pain I experience while I wait.. She wants me to stop fighting. To be able to find it in myself to walk away if the other person does not see fit to fight.<br />
<br />
So I'm going to practice that with Red. While I wait I'm playing with my other AM boys, connecting with girlfriends, setting up things that will soothe and nurture me. Berlin has asked me out for drinks on Friday night. And instead of me making it tentative in case Red wants to see me then, I've just said Ýes'. And another AM guy is coming to Joburg today and I may meet him for drinks. And yet another wants to see me when I get to Cape Town on Sunday. I'm just going to say 'Yes' to them all. See them. Enjoy connecting with them. Not cheat on Red in any way with them, and be clear with them that I'm not ready to go 'further' with them. But leave my options open. Red has until Sunday to do something properly to fight for us. He needs to call like he promised. He needs to try and see me.<br />
<br />
If he doesn't, I'm walking away.<br />
<br />
Because I need to get bad at waiting.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-14336583598117363732015-07-27T18:46:00.001+02:002015-11-01T16:47:59.742+02:00Slipping Through my Fingers?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been working hard through this weekend. On me. Not falling apart. Not pining. Trying to live through the weekend with joy and richness. Friend richness. Family richness. Immersing myself in the people I care about. Trying to forget to look at my phone every 3 minutes to see if he had messaged me.<br />
<br />
I felt like he was struggling. With me? With his wife? Didn't know. But I did know it was bad. He wouldn't have withdrawn from me if it wasn't bad. By Sunday afternoon after hours of bonding with one of my girls, I was resigned to the fact that I may never hear from him again. And that if I did, it could be to hear him say goodbye to me.<br />
<br />
And it felt sore. On a rational level I get his need to withdraw. He feels like he has too much to deal. Not good timing for a relationship. But I also know that connections like this are rare. If it is a real connection. If I'm not making it all up in my head and just projecting my yearning onto him and making him a placeholder for my own ancient pain...<br />
<br />
I heard from him late on Sunday afternoon. Apologising for being gone. Telling me his home shitstorm started raging on Friday. And saying he needed to exit from me. That I'm a good woman and he doesn't want to hurt me. That the timing is wrong for him.<br />
<br />
And I responded one last time to him to fight for this connection. I said that making decisions like this under emotional duress was a bad idea. That I didn't want to take this as his final word on the matter. That I wanted to have this conversation face to face with him. He agreed. Said he'd call me in the week.<br />
<br />
And now I wait. I'm so conflicted about how to deal this. I'm trying to hold my sore heart gently. Are we going to find a way to be together that works for us both? Will I be able to be content with being with him in small doses? Will he even feel he has any space for me? Does he even still want me? Or has he already begun the work of killing his feelings for me in his heart? Is he already gone? Am I doing him a disservice by hanging on to this hope instead of releasing him to find his own way? Am I just being selfish? Or will he be better off riding this tsunami with me? Am I just diving in to rescue and repeating my old pattern? Or is this the relationship where I get to hold myself and love another in a non codependent way?<br />
<br />
So I have no choice about what will happen next. He's not a man who I could manipulate or control even if I wanted to. He knows his own mind. I think he'll hear me out. And consider my opinion. And then make his own mind up. And I might have to go through yet another heartbreak in the process.<br />
<br />
I suppose this time I'm grateful that I chose a man who is a grownup. He's not just disappearing on me like some of the other cowards I've survived this year. He's being truthful and courageous. And seeing this through with me properly.<br />
<br />
Sigh.<br />
<br />
Makes me not want to lose him.<br />
<br />
He's a fucking keeper!<br />
<br />
Is he Trudy? Really?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-84327960548933883672015-07-25T11:30:00.002+02:002015-07-27T18:47:26.613+02:00Have I Done it Again?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Red feels gone. One week ago this morning we were kissing goodbye in his driveway after a lovely intimate and connected night together. I left with lightness and joy in my heart. I felt that I had chosen well and that this would be a rich and lovely path we would walk together.<br />
<br />
But our conversation in this week has been about him withdrawing. First with words. Telling me he's in too much of a crazy space for him to be with me without hurting me. Saying he can't give me what I want - that I need immersion into his life and he needs to be separate for a while.<br />
<br />
I took that to mean we were done, and began to sadly prepare myself to leave him behind me. But when I told him that, he said he doesn't want me to go. That he wanted me around but just wasn't sure how that would look. I said I think I should be forming what I wanted out of the relationship or I would run the risk of prezelling myself into any form he required of me and becoming sad and resentful because I wasn't getting what I wanted out of the relationship.<br />
<br />
So he asked me what I wanted. I went back to my profile on Ashley Madison and resent him my profile description:<br />
<br />
I'm in a consenting open marriage. I want an actual relationship with a man who will enjoy exploring this life phase with me. My dream mate is clever. Successful. Soulful. Sexy. Healthy. Strong. Kind. Funny. Solid.I have lived life and learned stuff. I value wisdom and lifelong learning. I'm a curious thinker about the human condition. I write. I read. I work out (within reason). And I run a company. And a family. I want soulful connection and hot sex! Sometimes at the same time! An intimate life companion without the domestic ordinary that comes with marriage and kids. A place to escape sometimes and be this other part of me. I'm not into just a casual one shag thing. .. Although I know you have to start somewhere. ... so if you have no intention of lingering for a while and investing in a real connected relationship. ... please don't contact me. I'm the real deal and I don't enjoy being with men who would be flighty with my heart. Love Scammers that trawl this site: stay the fk away from me. I know your game and I'm not interested in playing. You'll be wasting your time with me.<br />
My turn ons<br />
Strong. Sexy. Solid. Knows his own mind. Kind. Funny. Clever<br />
I'm looking for<br />
reading. bush time. walking. sunday morning coffee and breakfast. I'm not really into pecker shots and online sex chats with strangers. I'd prefer actual real relationships with real people. So NO to international sex chatters please.<br />
<br />
<br />
As I read this again I realised how very clear I had been in this description for muself. And I felt sad that he was here with me but not really responding to my need. Like I'd been clear: don't contact me if you don't really want to have a relationship like I've described? But I do know some of the answers to that: you read a whole profile once and get an impression of someone, and respond to the impression rather than the actual content. If I'm honest I don't even remember any content on Red's profile at all. Was there any?<br />
<br />
Another possibility is that he got swept away in the moment with me, and then stepped back to ask himself what he was actually doing... and started retreating into himself when it felt too much to deal. Another possibility is that he's found someone else that's pulling his attention from me and just isn't saying so. A red flag on that is that he's just taken off the 'last seen' function on WhatsApp - something many men do when they don't want people to know they're chatting to other people at 'sexy hours' of the night.<br />
<br />
I don't know what it is. But all I'm experienceing is a fading of our conversation. From intense and connected last Saturday, to wistful and sad on Sunday, to sexy hard-assed flirting and banter on Monday and Tuesday, factual communication on what we're each doing on Thursday and Friday, to nothing on Friday night. And nothing today. Just nothing.<br />
<br />
And I suppose any self respecting woman would call it at this moment. A quick delete of his number, blocking of the WhatsApp, and a 'leave me alone you fucker: you don't deserve me' message. Because whatever the issue, wouldn't it have been just right and kind and gentlemanly even to just say what was happening?<br />
<br />
But another part of me first wants the explanation and closure conversation, if that's what it is to be. Because I'm wondering why he's doing this. Are his hatches battoned down and walls up because he's trying to deal something in his own head that's happening that he hasn't told me about? Is it me? Was our intimate time together disappointing for him so he's no longer that interested in being with me? Is that why Charlie Harper disappeared too? Am I just too intense? Did I share too much of myself with him? Is my openness and vulnerability just too much for anyone to take? Am I shit at sex? Look funny? Smell funny? Just not attractive enough for him? I don't think it's these things...but it could be, couldn't it?<br />
<br />
Is it me? Is it him? Should I trust him to come back when he's ready to reconnect? Should I allow myself to be abandoned like this with no explanation? Should I be sending a message to him that says 'this isn't OK - I don't deserve this treatment'? Or just leave this conversation where it lies with him until he returns to pick it up? If he returns.<br />
<br />
And then I keep reminding myself that he's leaving his wife and family next weekend. He's moving out on a marriage that he's been in for almost 2 decades. His life is crumbling and he must be feeling terrible. And we all deal that kind of thing in different ways: I want to be there for him in this. He probably wants to deal it alone. He's being incredibly clumsy in how he's dealing me in that. But shouldn't I be cutting him some slack in this very very difficult time of his?<br />
<br />
What do I want?<br />
<br />
I want to see him this weekend. I want to have a conversation about all of this so I can understand what's happening and how to respond. I want him to want to help me understand. To try. And not to just discard me. And then I want us to work though what all this has been about and agree a way forward. Together. Apart. Semi together. Communication expectations. Connection expectations. Boundaries. Connection times. I just want to know what's happeneing. I want a truthful face to face conversation.<br />
<br />
I want to understand so I can decide whether to keep my heart open and give him the space to heal himself? Or close it up. Walk away. Nurse my sadness. Move on.<br />
<br />
So I think I'm not going to chase this thing. I won't actually impact it positively in any way if I do. The healthiest thing for me to do is get on with my day. My weekend. My life. Spend time with my family. Bond with my girlfriends. Deliver the huge requirments I have at work. And not sit outside his cave waiting and hoping that he may emerge at some stage. He'll come. He won't come. I can't control that. And if he doesn't, then I guess I'll have to go back into nurturing this sore heart of mine.<br />
<br />
<br />
I don't want to have to do that again. Not another heartbreak repeat. But also, I know the sore heart is about much more than Red. And holding this heart safe for me is what I need to really be doing. Holding you Trudy. Keeping you safe.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-30098174455112316022015-07-17T14:46:00.000+02:002015-07-27T18:47:38.068+02:00Holding on Gently<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
PMT day. Again I’m feeling raw and needy. I’m sitting at
home alone, typing at my husband’s desk. It’s Thursday evening.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yesterday Red told his wife he’s leaving her. That’s just hectic
for him. And on this very huge day of his, he needed me to back the fuck off
him so he could process all the stuff he’s going through. I tried my hardest to
do that: just get on with my life and let him deal what he wanted to deal. I so
wanted to be that girl that can just comfortably release her man to the space
he needs.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 4:58 AM - Trudy Green: Hey you. Happy morning</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 7:18 AM - RED: Morning. Things are hectic this morning. Will message when left the house</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 7:26 AM - Trudy Green: Good luck</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 8:21 AM - Trudy Green: Hey you. If you need a
debrief coffee I can meet you at Mugg and Bean. Having an admin day most of
today so flexible. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 8:52 AM - RED: What is a debrief coffee? Sounds formal</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 8:52 AM - Trudy Green: Not formal</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 8:53 AM - Trudy Green: Hectic morning. .. Maybe
you need to connect a bit before you hit work</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 8:53 AM - Trudy Green: You ok?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 8:54 AM - RED: I have an 'angst' feeling all
through my body. Home, work, just
trying to regroup and figure it out.
Stay with me but a might need some room to move today.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 8:55 AM - Trudy Green: I'm here Red</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 8:56 AM - Trudy Green: And I can be there in
15.... No pressure</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 8:56 AM - Trudy Green: You want to call?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 9:07 AM - RED: Just a little space this am</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 9:08 AM - Trudy Green: Sure</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 9:28 AM - RED: You’re too special</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 9:29 AM - Trudy Green: Missing you tho</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 9:29 AM - Trudy Green: But I'll suck it up </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I managed to leave him alone. Completely. It was so hard to
do.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 1:37 PM - RED: How's your admin day going</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 1:38 PM - Trudy Green: Oh god</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 1:38 PM - Trudy Green: Serious withdrawal from
you</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 1:39 PM - Trudy Green: I'm in a coffee shop
writing a proposal for a business that doesn't exist yet</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 1:39 PM - Trudy Green: How are you?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 2:16 PM - RED: I'm getting better. Thanks for
giving me the space.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 2:18 PM - Trudy Green: Thanks for managing it
with me so carefully</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 2:57 PM - RED: A bit overwhelmed at the moment
with all the things happening. Just need
to step back a bit to take stock.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 3:27 PM - Trudy Green: So of course my instinct
is to rush in and surround you and hold you and listen to you and think things
through with you... so I'm sitting on my hands because you need to do this by
yourself. I do understand. And I respect the space you need. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 3:39 PM - RED: F... Ck. Why do you say all the right things?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 3:41 PM - RED: Friday is arranged. Hope it is still OK for you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 3:41 PM - Trudy Green: Shew. That's brilliant
news</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 3:42 PM - Trudy Green: Yes it’s ok for me</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 3:42 PM - RED: Cool.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 3:44 PM - Trudy Green: #happydance</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 6:47 PM - RED: Thanks. Had a pathetic talk with wife. Not a talk at all, best I could do was tell
her "I am planning to move out. We
will then deal with the rest later".
Her response was "oh ok".</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 6:47 PM - Trudy Green: Shew</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 6:49 PM - RED: Not proud of myself. Also had estate agent phone today to ask me
if I wanted to sell the house. Bit of a
reality fuck. I said no but gave her my details. I will need to take this step.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 6:51 PM - Trudy Green: This stuff is hard. And
that makes it impossible to deliver flawlessly. It comes from a deep sore
space. Clumsy in execution is to be expected.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 6:51 PM - Trudy Green: Don't judge yourself
harshly Red. You're dealing a lot</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 6:53 PM - RED: I am mindful of this</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 6:54 PM - Trudy Green: He learns fast</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 6:54 PM - RED: A lot to deal with and let go of.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 6:57 PM - Trudy Green: And there's a big grieving
part in that</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But instead, I struggled like crazy. Crazy crazy. So much
Narc abuse stuff had started pouring into me. I was convinced for a while that
he was actually a lying cheat and was using this ‘space’ I was giving him to
pursue another woman – that he asked me to back off so I wouldn’t be hounding
him and disturbing him while he was spading someone else. Then his photo
disappeared off WhatsApp and I thought that meant he had blocked me on WhatsApp
– again…maybe to stop me busting in on another tryst with another woman. He
hadn’t. But that took me a while to figure out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then I managed to soothe myself about that picture,
reminding myself that this wasn’t John-the-Narc, and actually a gentle and
honest man who actually liked me and wasn’t going to cheat on me. And that he
was going through a really rough time and needed some space for that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then the next hole I fell into was that I had come on
too strong for him. And that he was backing the fuck off me because I wasn’t
giving him any space to breathe. That my neediness that comes out at the first
hint of abandonment was going to send him running for the hills and that I had
shown him too much of me. That I had made it too easy for him to access me.
That my vulnerability was too overwhelming for him. All of this creating
intense conversations in my head. All of this I’m determined to not let spill
into his space. And then feeling lonely because I’m alone with these feelings.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had sat on my hands for hours, just willing myself to
leave him the fuck alone. And even though I was really really busy, I just
couldn’t get him off my mind. Picking up the phone and checking it every few
minutes in case I hadn’t heard a message come through. I was also dying to know
what had gone down with him. Wanted to get in my car and rush across town and
take him for coffee. Talk with him. Unpack with him. Soothe him. Rescue him
from his pain. Telling myself the whole time that he’s a grown man who is
wanting to deal this stuff alone for now. And that I need to respect that. And
give him his space. And leave him alone. Little needy broken bird and my inner
nurturing woman were both beside themselves though – just aching to go over
there. I know the right thing for me to respond with to that is reassurance.
Calm the broken little one. Tell her I’ll keep her safe and that everything is
going to be ok. But I didn’t manage to do that very well. It felt like
abandonment. It wasn’t. I know that. But it felt like it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I guess this is part of my clumsy and slow healing process.
I have progressed far enough to recognise my own triggers when they come up. To
know the pain is generated inside me, and not at all by the person ‘out there’.
This isn’t Red stuff. It’s mine. I get it. But I can’t really manage it yet.
It’s all messy and hard and debilitating for me. It takes me out of the game
for a while and my heart hurts like crazy. Projections and false thinking and
pain and trauma all washing around in a cocktail of PMS hormones and I find it
so difficult to find a kind and loving place for myself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the evening we finally began to connect again. We played
a sexy WhatsApp chat game with each other (flip…he’s GOOD at that), and then
moved into the logistics of our meetup on Friday night. And then I started
sharing with him my yearning of having a profoundly deep sexual connection with
him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 9:59 PM - RED: I would love to. Not sure if I can at the moment. Yesterday and today hit me hard. Reality set in. I need to sort out my shit. I want you around but I might not be able or
capable of committing to the level you want.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:00 PM - Trudy Green: Shew. I really want to understand more about what
happened</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:01 PM - Trudy Green: But I'm not asking for
any commitment that you can't do</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:01 PM - Trudy Green: I know the year you're
about to have</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:01 PM - Trudy Green: I know the risk I run is
being your rebound or transition relationship</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:02 PM - Trudy Green: I'm fragile too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:02 PM - RED: Nothing new happened. I just knew I had to tell my wife. The realisation was that the dominoes would
fall. No more delaying or going back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:03 PM - Trudy Green: I think we will bring
each other some joy and comfort in tough times</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:03 PM - Trudy Green: So a lot happened.
Inside you</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:04 PM - RED: Yes, it’s good to have you
around. I might run when feeling
overwhelmed or pushed into a corner.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:04 PM - Trudy Green: I'll try not to push</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:06 PM - Trudy Green: Just be kind and honest
with me please.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:07 PM - RED: You’re happy to go down the
Zambezi on a tomato box boat and take all the rapids as they come. I will want to stop a lot and hold back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:09 PM - Trudy Green: If I trust the Zambezi.
And the tomato box.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:09 PM - Trudy Green: But I hear you</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:13 PM - Trudy Green: I'm serious about that
honesty bit though, Red. I have been so deceived in the past few years that it
has become my biggest fear. Of being gullible and trusting and being lied to.
You feel like an honest man to me. Which is why I'm here. But if I'm lied to,
I'll be gone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:13 PM - Trudy Green: I can deal anything so
long as it's the truth</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:22 PM - RED: I like you a lot. That's the truth. Can I get in a boat and down a river at full
speed and let the water take over. No. I want to stop and sit on the bank to
see if I am doing the right thing. I
can't go down another river and make another mistake. You need to know this. So
be aware that I could stop at a bank any time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:23 PM - Trudy Green: Makes sense Red</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:23 PM - Trudy Green: What would that look
like for me?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:26 PM - RED: You sensed it last night. And gave me the space. The challenge for you is not trying to force
me back on the boat too quickly. But you
might get frustrated and give up on me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:27 PM - Trudy Green: Hmmm....You're right
about the challenge for me</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:28 PM - Trudy Green: But if you are able to
help me understand what's happening I should be able to play in the boat by
myself for a while</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:29 PM - Trudy Green: I do want to be that
girl who is cool with that. Your introverted stuff will always need solitary
recharge time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:31 PM - Trudy Green: I have such an
insatiable need to rush in and fix. It's a real labour of love to hold back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:31 PM - Trudy Green: For me I mean. For me to hold back</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:32 PM - RED: I see that. I appreciate it and need the help. I though tend to push away if overwhelmed or
pushed into a corner.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
15/07/2015, 10:34 PM - Trudy Green: Ok. Try tell me if I
push you there please</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He seems like a really kind and emotionally mature and aware
guy. And he’s telling me clearly and truthfully where he’s at. But even through
that, I start to feel pushed away and rejected a bit. And I know he’s trying to
tell me gently at some level to just move back a bit. That he is overwhelmed
and needing space to sort himself out. And in my grownup space I get that. But
so much of me is actually 5. And 5 year old me really doesn’t want to yield any
space. Wants to rail against the gentle push away and crawl up into his lap and
beg to be held and protected and cherished. And I need to hold her and protect
her. And not try to give the baby away to him again. He’s probably the guy most
likely to be able to hold the baby that I’ve met, but I’m trying to do it while
he himself is hanging on by a thread while his life crumbles around him. I
cannot push him to rescue me. Just stand near him and let us both support each
other to the best of our abilities.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I tossed and turned all night, trying to distract myself
from my spiraling thoughts and pain with podcasts that would take my mind into
other places. But by the morning, I could feel a lot of pain and sadness
creeping in around my edges. Old pain. Triggered by his need for space and
distance. His healthy need to protect himself a bit with distance created my
needy abandonment stuff. Sore. Hard. Natural. I forced myself to not contact
him first thing in the morning. Leave him alone a bit. Give him the space to
feel like he missed me enough to get in touch again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:13 AM - RED: Morning you</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:14 AM - Trudy Green: Hey!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:15 AM - RED: Hey</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:15 AM - Trudy Green: I'm struggling a bit this
morn</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:16 AM - RED: Oh no. What's up?
Sore, tired, other</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:16 AM - Trudy Green: No. Just our conversation
last night</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:17 AM - Trudy Green: Hit a vulnerable button
for me</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:17 AM - RED: Research shows, sky news, if you
on your phone more than an hour a day,
then you are depressed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(He’s not being an ass here: we’re just both typing
simultaneously, as one does on WhatsApp sometimes. So there is a tough
conversation and a playful one happening simultaneously)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:18 AM - RED: Now they talking about
mindfulness</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:18 AM - Trudy Green: Oh. I'm only on, like, 16
hours. ...</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:18 AM - RED: But to you. What was the button.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:18 AM - RED: You 16x more depressed than the
average woman</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:19 AM - Trudy Green: Feeling like I've shown
too much. Been too much. Like I should have been more circumspect and careful
in how I've engaged with you</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:19 AM - Trudy Green: My shit</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:19 AM - Trudy Green: Triggered by your shit</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:22 AM - RED: Apologies, did not mean to hurt
you. Want to chat or do you need space</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:22 AM - Trudy Green: Of course you didn't mean
to</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:22 AM - Trudy Green: You just told your truth.
I'm telling you mine</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:23 AM - Trudy Green: I'd love to chat. But on
Friday. When we have time. And you can hold me. And I can hold you back</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:23 AM - Trudy Green: And I really really need
you to hold me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:24 AM - Trudy Green: And such is my demon that
even telling you that feels dangerous and hard. ..</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:24 AM - RED: That would be good</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:25 AM - RED: What is your main demon?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:26 AM - Trudy Green: Fear of abandonment.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:26 AM - Trudy Green: That's the headline</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:26 AM - Trudy Green: What's yours?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:28 AM - RED: Withdrawing into my self</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:28 AM - Trudy Green: Which happens because of
what fear?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:29 AM - RED: Not sure, I need to figure this
out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:30 AM - Trudy Green: Yup. I have the words
because of my year of therapy. ....</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:30 AM - Trudy Green: I'm going to shower:
family dispatched. ... House to myself for a bit</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:32 AM - Trudy Green: I'm going to try and
manage myself kindly and bravely with this. I'm suddenly afraid. And afraid to
say I'm afraid. My heart is very afraid of being broken again. And part of me
wants to run like hell.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:32 AM - RED: Should I come over and join you</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:33 AM - Trudy Green: Would love that</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:33 AM - Trudy Green: Although I have the
tiniest shower in the world. ..</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
16/07/2015, 7:34 AM - RED: That's the best. Just thinking about taking you up against
the wall.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And so descends the conversation into playful sexiness
again. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s night time now. The day is past and Red is out with his
daughter for dinner. I tried to call him in the day. He didn’t take my call. He
was out driving alone. But didn’t feel the need to call me. I must really try
to find my peace about this. I met this man less than two weeks ago. We like
each other. His marriage is crashing around him. I’m just in recovery. We’re
not soul mates. Yet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m lonely. And sad. I miss him terribly. But I also know
that this missing is not about him. Once again I have found somewhere to place
that childhood yearning for my absent dad. Abandonment. Loneliness that comes
from a lifetime of being lonely. Yearning that comes from dealing stuff alone
always. It’s natural. I must love myself better on this one. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-15431158852629811802015-07-15T10:19:00.002+02:002015-07-27T18:48:00.668+02:00A New Dance Partner?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VhfMYWnTp-g/VaYXYnMaO0I/AAAAAAAAA9M/OVN2_wkybX0/s1600/f2837bf0c522c22e8f3c620564872067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VhfMYWnTp-g/VaYXYnMaO0I/AAAAAAAAA9M/OVN2_wkybX0/s320/f2837bf0c522c22e8f3c620564872067.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I haven’t been writing. You may have noticed. Something in
me just switched off for a while and writing was suddenly no longer part of my
daily ritual. Part of that is because I’m getting more and more busily involved
in the sales and expansion of the company, so writing time feels like a luxury.
And part is about being a bit mute emotionally. Where I’m not in that hectic
outpouring space any more, but more thoughtful. Internally focussed. But with
no words.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s not really healthy for me though. I do know that. My
writing here on this blog has been such a very important personal outlet for my
pain and fear, and I really shouldn’t allow myself to lapse on it. And, as I’m
writing, I also realise that I am a bit afraid about my privacy being violated
here. In the process of corporatizing my company as part of the greater
company, we have all had new laptops set up, inside the corporate umbrella of
the big company. I have this weird feeling that every keystroke of mine can be
observed by some IT dude somewhere in the world (they can get into my computer
and repair it from there, so why shouldn’t they be able to track me from there?).
That this laptop is no longer mine, but belongs to the company, and that I
shouldn’t really be using it for personal stuff.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
SO maybe that’s another problem to solve – I need my own
personal writing device, so that I can be fully safe in everything I write, and
that the location of this blog will never be found in any historical URL search
my employers would conduct.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right this moment I’m sitting in the middle of Madikwe Game
Reserve. I’m on a weekend safari. I came here all by myself (although the owner
is a friend), and have just been savouring the peace and quiet of the bush and
the Game Drives out into the wilderness to see wild lions and hyenas and
elephants etc. in their natural state. So good for my soul! And coffee on my
mate’s lodge balcony, chatting and bonding about all sorts of things…this too
has been beautiful!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And soon I will be getting into my car and driving back to
Johannesburg. And there eagerly awaits a new Man..who has invited me to drinks
at his home. Red, I call him. An online dating man. He feels like a kind and good man. He’s enthusiastic about
being with me, doesn’t play cat and mouse with his feelings, and seems to be
the kind of man that I usually just walk past without noticing. Because he’s
not my usual type – the imposing, unavailable, manipulative personality
disordered men that draw me like a moth to the fire, but rather the type that
seems real and open and present and caring and who I then normally dismiss
without a thought. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So this time my question to myself is: can I stay the
distance? Have I healed myself enough to be able to receive the care and love I
think he wants to give me without running a mile because my inner
fiver-year-old cannot tolerate actually receiving the love she so craves?<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-15723380799705312752015-06-07T19:56:00.001+02:002015-06-07T19:56:52.450+02:00And I get Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CWQcgx3PVBM/VXSFulrM-xI/AAAAAAAAA80/U0yQsfvh-0s/s1600/c4ff9624558f832765cef06d4c1bb0ca.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CWQcgx3PVBM/VXSFulrM-xI/AAAAAAAAA80/U0yQsfvh-0s/s320/c4ff9624558f832765cef06d4c1bb0ca.jpg" width="246" /></a></div>
I've just realised that I've not actually told the final part of my hospital story. Which isn't very kind of me...with all of you readers out there wondering what the hell is happening with me... am I going to live a long life or a short one?<br />
<br />
Well, the answer is a long one, (barring the 'hit by bus' scenario). I do not have a lung disease. No Rheumatoid Lung. No 'Atypical Asthma'. Nothing ongoing, which is a great relief.<br />
<br />
What I do have is a pair of lungs that are gradually healing from being lacerated 3 times over the past 9 months. And the laceration came from the <a href="http://betterboundaries.blogspot.com/2015/04/lung-attack.html">Macrodantin drug I took to control my UTIs</a>. All of this is unpacked in the link to this previous blog.<br />
<br />
It seems that only 1 person in 100 000 has this sort of reaction to Macrodantin. But the reaction is severe and life-threatening says my Pulminologist. That feeling I got that I only had a few minutes left when I left my kids alone at home and drove myself to hospital was spot on. That little psychic voice that told me to google the side effects of the drug was spot on. If I hadn't done that when I did it, or found the information when I found it, I wouldn't have made it to hospital. And my kids would have woken to find me dead in my bed in the morning. The oxygen that the hospital emergency room staff gave me literally saved my life!<br />
<br />
Apparently the Macrodantin usually solves UTIs by making a cocktail of Formaldehyde in your bladder. It's a lethal concoction that quickly kills any bacteria in the bladder and is then expelled, not being absorbed by the body. But in very rare cases, mine in particular, for some reason the body makes the Formaldehyde in the lungs instead. That is a lethal thing - the formaldehyde sears all the breathing passageways (the incredible chest pain I felt), scars them, and makes it almost impossible for the lungs to function normally to extract oxygen from the air. Only the administration of pure oxygen will keep the person alive.<br />
<br />
I'm pissed off that I was already communicating with my doctors the first time this happened to me that I thought the drugs had something to do with my condition. But the first Pulminologist was very set on his diagnosis of 'Atypical Asthma' linked to my extreme stress at the time that he was just not prepared to investigate my concerns. So I took the pill twice more, exposing myself to a lot more scarring, another hospitalization and two more life threatening moments before it was solved.<br />
<br />
So all of this is completely unrelated to any of the Autoimmune issues I already have. It's just extra, on top of it all, that I have had to cope with this year. I feel pissed off that this has been thrown at me over and above everything else. Like why the fuck. Really?!<br />
<br />
And at the same time I can feel the purpose in it. The incredible life changes I have effected because of the trauma of all of this. Because I have had to stop completely and look very long and hard at myself. And become more of the woman I need to be.<br />
<br />
And I also feel more loneliness and bereftness through it all. Because to this moment I haven't been able to snuggle up in anybody's arms and cry about what happened to me. Someone who really really cares that I very nearly died twice this year. Someone who gives a shit that I'm still coming slowly back from that edge and fighting daily to reclaim my health. Reclaim my breath. Reclaim my body.<br />
<br />
I'm glad I'm not dying. So fucking glad.<br />
<br />
But I'm not over all this yet. Far from it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-47788239204574551422015-06-07T18:47:00.000+02:002015-06-07T19:12:48.734+02:00Back to the Lonely<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9svkOA2oIig/VXRzycQ2z9I/AAAAAAAAA8k/Xm_IfuYTp6o/s1600/059fa52e9a6f0ab44ae1a9cf27f578fd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9svkOA2oIig/VXRzycQ2z9I/AAAAAAAAA8k/Xm_IfuYTp6o/s1600/059fa52e9a6f0ab44ae1a9cf27f578fd.jpg" /></a></div>
I haven't been able to write for quite a while. Just not been able to sit in front of this page and find the words to tell myself my story. I told myself it's because I'm healing. And because I'm healing I don't have the compulsive need to get stuck in each and every day to unpack the myriad of things that are trawling through my brain. Maybe it's a bit of that. And maybe it's also because I can't really get myself to tell myself the same things over and over again. Healing doesn't seem to happen in a straight line. It's more of a spiral...circling around and around, revisiting issues over and over again, albeit from a slightly different vantage point each time around again. And even though I do know this to be true, it still feels like failure to me to be at the same issue and dragging myself through it all yet again.<br />
<br />
I'm so so sad today. I feel quite bereft. I have had a glorious week at the World Economic Forum with my new bosses learning and circulating and hunting for new potential clients. I've done well, I think. But now the 'post party' exhaustion has set in. Not to mention the PMT blues, and suddenly my emotional resilience feels spent and I'm low.<br />
<br />
Three weeks ago I reconnected with my CEO man. Haven't heard from him at all since February and before that, our '<a href="http://betterboundaries.blogspot.com/2015/01/barcelona-alone.html">almost hookup' in Barcelona</a> which didn't come to be because I wasn't ready. Meeting up with him again was thrilling. I suddenly got all of those butterfly things one is sometimes lucky enough to feel with someone and I just had the strongest sense that this was the time. That we were about to find each other on a whole other level and explore a beautiful relationship together. I let myself fall in love with him a little, I think - my shrink spotted it immediately when I was telling her about him the other day. I felt ready for him. And felt him ready for me.<br />
<br />
So I did two quite drastic things. First, I broke it off with the Tasmanian. I could feel I wasn't being fair to him - we are sexually quite compatible but not really burning to be together. It wasn't fair for me to be in any sort of relationship with him when I was actually thinking that a relationship with the CEO may become a real possibility some time soon. He was sad, but not bereft. He had to acknowledge my point that neither of us was making much of an effort to create skin time together, which meant we were probably more friends (without benefits, mostly).<br />
<br />
Then I had a real conversation with Mark. The CEO is one of his close friends, and I didn't want to do anything that he might feel weird about. In fact I even asked him if it was OK to tell the CEO about him if we got that close. Because it would feel dishonest if I was with the CEO and Mark at the same time and the CEO didn't know about Mark. Mark said it would be cool. He thought that me and the CEO together would actually be great and kind of gave me his blessing to go ahead.<br />
<br />
And after those two quite uncharacteristic things for me, I felt like I'd done the grownup things I needed to do to pave the way for a slow seduction with the CEO. And I was determined to take it slow. I felt like I should leave him the space to hunt me and land me, like somehow his masculinity would need that, and that if I was too forward and aggressive, that may put him off. So I coached myself about taking things slowly, about savouring the tentative seduction and the time of not knowing, and aching to be with him. Mark and I chatted a few days later and he just dropped a hint that the CEO had said that he really liked me (hahaaaa...a bit like first grade wing man games). I was SO excited when I heard that - just confirmation that I was on the right track. At last. I let my heart open more, making more space for him to come in.<br />
<br />
I did send him a couple of text messages over that time. And started noticing a worrying pattern. He was responding to my messages, but in an uncharacteristically reserved way. Not pushing the flirty angle or reciprocating my energy. I kept telling myself this wasn't a problem That he had been reticent before. That this wasn't completely unusual for him. That he's probably quite busy.<br />
<br />
I have spent the week in Cape Town. and was supposed to work there on the weekend too. But suddenly my weekend work plans were cancelled and I had a free weekend in my house alone. I decided to take the bull by the horns and invite him to join me and sent him a short WhatsApp invitation. I was super nervous to send it. I realised I was putting myself out there quite seriously, and the stakes felt quite high. But I did it anyway.<br />
<br />
He read it within the hour. And didn't respond. Shew. I thought he must be thinking about it. Or trying to move his weekend plans around to try to make it happen. Late that night still no response from him. And nothing the next morning when I woke up. I went through the whole next day on tenterhooks, wondering what response he was going to send, with my heart sinking a little more every time I checked and rechecked my phone to see whether he had responded yet. But nothing. And nothing the next day or the day after that. My heart began to sink. Had I misread it? Had I chased him away by being too forward with my invitation? Friday was approaching and a small piece of me was wondering if he was just going to jump on a plane and arrive in Cape Town and surprise me. I was frantic on Friday afternoon when my cellphone battery started running low - what if he landed and couldn't reach me to find out where my place is?!<br />
<br />
But of course there was no surprise arrival. There was just nothing. After a long and hard working week, I finally went home in the dark to my empty house in Hout Bay and poured myself a very long glass of wine and drank it down as fast as I could. I would have to face this pain by myself again and I just didn't want to feel it all alone like that for long. Got drunk fast and hit the sack.<br />
<br />
Only then did it occur to me to check him out on Facebook. Crazy. I'm usually all over that side of checking out my potential dates. I found him fast. And found a very inactive Facebook page. Except for a new entry on the 25th May. He had changed his status to "In a Relationship". And Facebook adds this little heart icon after those searing words, just to rub it in a bit more. As if the words weren't enough to burn deep into my heart!<br />
<br />
Fuck. After being single for a long time, my CEO had stepped into a relationship exactly 2 weeks ago. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. The glass of wine was not enough to numb the pain that came crashing through me in that moment. I could not believe that I had opened my very fragile heart yet again to a man not available to me. That I was going to hit yet another unrequited heartbreak wave.<br />
<br />
There's a rule. Don't text drunk. NEVER TEXT DRUNK.<br />
<br />
I texted.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"<i>FK. Just saw your Facebook. You're in a relationship. I didn't know. Embarrassed. Sorry. Backing right off</i>"</blockquote>
He read my message. Didn't respond. Fuck that hurt. An apology or some sort of explanation would have really been nice. I don't really know what he could have said, I suppose. I'm sure he was a bit embarrassed too - he had most definitely not told me about his relationship and had led me on a bit. Or had he? Had I just been projecting that from our previous time together? Did I make up our chemistry and attraction in my head? Did I imagine it because I wanted it to be true?<br />
<br />
This all feels so terribly humiliating. Besides the heartache I'm also now seriously starting to doubt myself. Maybe I am actually just not the attractive and sexy woman I imagine myself to be. Maybe I actually don't have what it takes to attract the men that I think are in my league. Maybe I'm doing something that puts them off after a bit and actually all I'm good for are the Narcs and abusive assholes in this world who want me for the supply I can provide? I almost feel like asking Berlin or Mark for feedback about that, but I'm too afraid that they will tell me something I really don't want to know about myself. Something I can't change. Something that will rob me of my hope and confidence forever. What is wrong with me? Seriously. What is fucking wrong with me?<br />
<br />
I have a meeting booked with him on Tuesday. Just the two of us. I am going to have to do something very grownup and professional to put us back on a strong business footing so we can get into the business relationship we are scoping out for ourselves. It's going to take a lot for me to 'man up' and just deal this straight. And see him while my heart is still feeling so fragile about him. Well, I managed with Berlin. I guess I'll manage again.<br />
<br />
Fuck<br />
<br />
I wish I didn't have to fucking manage all the time.<br />
<br />
I so so crave being held and loved.<br />
<br />
Still not to be. Still not time.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-70371538603064668522015-05-12T14:58:00.001+02:002015-05-13T11:50:33.681+02:00Treading Water<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm back in Stellenbosch again. Flew in very briefly for a day conference and I'm now, once again, sitting in the gardens of a beautiful wine farm with a few minutes to spare and think and touch base with myself.<br />
<br />
I have time because I got stood up for my lunch date. Well, sort of stood up. Bachelor number 2 is down here at the moment and we have had some playful back and forthing again about getting together. He's landed another job after being retrenched, and so I think seems to be more comfortable about engaging with me again. Although I'm not completely sure about that - we made a very firm date to get together today, and I even booked my flight out later in the evening to create some time to be with him and he bailed on me late yesterday afternoon anyway. Said things were just too pressured right now. Maybe they are....?<br />
<br />
And I get to this conference and here is Mark at the same conference - wasn't expecting to see him, and yet here he is. Nice to hang with him a bit but feeling a bit distant from him. We had a conversation a while ago where he talked of playing with other 'unavailable' women - I'm too available and the risk is a real relationship or something.....? Agh. Fkn hate that. I'm keeping my distance and giving him space to sort out his marriage and he uses the opportunity to play with other chicks. Aaaagggghhhhhh. So stepping the hell backwards from that! My heart is too vulnerable for him. Need to keeeeep awaaaaayyy!<br />
<br />
My Tasmanian is somehow at a distance from me too. We're in some kind of weird relationship where we have slept together twice and have some sort of understanding that we're lovers. But in that space he gets more and more distant and communicates less and less with me. His 'Acquisition Game' is clearly much better than his 'Retention Game'. He's not trying particularly hard to keep me. So I'm not trying particularly hard back. He disappears almost completely on weekends while he's with his live in partner, and I'm so not enjoying just hanging around the edges. I'm finding myself moving to seeing it as a connection of convenience, where I connect with him every now and then but am not giving myself any expectations that my heart and soul could be held in that place. Maybe I can play there a bit. Explore my sexuality in a mutually rewarding sexual space. But my heart? Nope. Not safe there. Only safe with me.<br />
<br />
And how weird for me that is. That I'm allowing myself to be in this quite distant, yet physically intimate space with him. Because I didn't know I could do it like that. But it seems I can right now. So I am.<br />
<br />
And Berlin and I continue to dance around each other, chatting daily on WhatsApp and just sharing the minutiae of our lives. Haven't seen him for more than a month and just living with that.<br />
<br />
And I'm trying to just be OK with being in limbo. Trying to unlearn those not very useful patterns of getting all needy and sad around men, just aching for their masculine energy and trying to hook them in deeply to me so I can feel held. That's the stuff that made me vulnerable to Narc Mindfuckery and I'm determined to bullet proof myself against that kind of attack forever.<br />
<br />
Sunday the 17th will be my 1 year anniversary of<a href="http://betterboundaries.blogspot.com/2014/10/betrayal.html"> D-Day from John the Narc</a>. The day I caught him cheating on me. The day my whole fking world crashed around my feet. I'm going to celebrate it by going to breakfast with the woman I caught him cheating with - Debbie. We'll both have a very private ceremony of escape from him. Only she and I will know really what that means. Sore. Still broken in places. Trying to put our lives back together.<br />
<br />
Sigh. Longer road than I ever would have thought.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-19583094550914582742015-05-03T18:10:00.001+02:002015-05-03T18:26:19.519+02:00Playing with My Family<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Such a delightfully unexpected Saturday I had! My husband planned to take all my sons camping and fishing down at the river about an hour's drive from here. Which meant a weekend alone at home for me. Hubby also discussed taking his sort-of-lover with him and I said it was cool with me. But then came the logistical challenge - one of my sons has been away on rugby tour and would only get back way late in the night and so couldn't go with hubby and the other boys. So I offered to drive him down early the next morning.<br />
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So because I was going to be there anyway, hubby invited me to join them in the river rafting tour they had planned for the Saturday afternoon. Now my default mode would have been to say 'No thanks'. River rafting feels scary. White water. Rocks. Chance of falling out of boat and breaking a leg. Or a head. Ugh. And remember, I'm the one who will happily stand on the side of the activity and hold everybody's jerseys and cokes while they play. Taking part in the play is hard for me.<br />
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Part of my fear is about physical ineptitude. I have felt clumsy and inadequate for years. I don't have a very strong athletic instinct. And my autoimmune issues, particularly my Rheumatoid, has made me feel even more fragile and not robust. So 'No' is easier to say. At another level, this has been a hard part of my relationship with my husband for years. He is very physically talented and robust, and has not been able to disguise his disdain for my clumsiness and lack of energy and stamina over the years. Before I got diagnosed with these issues, he just chalked my shortcomings up to laziness and a lack of courage. And it irritated him immensely. So whenever we have got together to do physical things like hiking or climbing or river rafting, we have often finished the day in icy silence - he getting more and more critical of me, and me fighting back defensively, feeling so sore after experiencing the lack of care from him when I felt afraid of the physical tasks. I'd be slower, more tentative, clumsier. Drove him insane! Made me feel humiliated.<br />
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So over the years it has just been easier for me to just opt out: you guys go along and have fun - I'll just be a burden. See you all when you get back - tell me how much fun you had. The idea of going with everyone and becoming a physical burden that slows them all down and impacts their enjoyment of the activity is just too hard for me. It has been enough for me to enable the adventures of the family without actually participating in them. I felt I didn't have the right, really.<br />
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Shrink said NO! She says it's my default mode to marginalize myself when I feel the slightest bit of lack of welcome or invitation. And that this is <i>my family</i>. And that I have a right to be in the middle of it. And if my physical disabilities inhibit some of the things I am capable of, then my family must help me to work around them. I don't need to just exit myself. I must allow them to step up and take me along, and support me. and also give them the space to find a way for them to do some of the more hard core physical things they can only do without me. But it can be a BOTH/AND rather than a EITHER/OR.<br />
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So I surprised myself and my husband. When he invited me to join them, fully expecting me to say no, instead I said yes. Just yes. and I showed up in my shorts and T-shirt. And let them organise themselves around how they would manage me on the trip. In the end it was easy: my adult son took me in his boat, and my husband took our youngest son. And our middle son, almost 15, took his own boat.<br />
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And it was absolutely fucking awesome! Going in the boat with my very strong son who has been rowing for about a decade meant that I was in the safest hands possible. He is strong and capable. And never once was he impatient with me for doing the wrong thing, even when my steering meant we went down one rapid backwards. My husband would have been shouting instructions and getting pissed off if I couldn't comply. But my son was just cool. And delightful. And gracious. And strong enough to paddle us both down the calm sections when my rheumatoid wrists started protesting about the hard work.<br />
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And at one point we pulled off at a rocky outcrop where the river guide then put my boys into technical rapids where they could do some of the stuff I couldn't manage - and I sat on the rocks and so enjoyed watching them learn and play and get dunked and dunk each other - the things they can't do with mom in the boat - they got to do it anyway.<br />
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The river guides took the most beautiful photos of the day and sent them to me this morning. I love them. Such an awesome record of me playing with all my boys. and one really beautiful photo of our whole family smiling together after a fabulous day. I think I'm going to print up and frame that one. To everyone else it will just be a happy smiling family snap. But for me it tells a story of my own secret triumph.<br />
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The day I had the courage to step up to play with my family.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-90353804290660892192015-04-29T17:09:00.001+02:002015-04-29T17:17:48.189+02:00And that makes Nine (and a half?)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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That would be Nine men I've slept with. In my life. Number Nine last night - the Tasmanian. And it was lovely. I had 'first time sex' with a man and it was like '10th time sex'. Felt like we were already comfortable lovers. What a relief. My instincts about the Tasmanian were spot on. We are very sexually compatible. The half bit would be Berlin - if we're counting near misses.<br />
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We had drinks. I had too much wine. And suddenly shagging him in the back of his minivan seemed like a wonderful idea! Tacky? Maybe. Delicious? Most definitely. And it wasn't anything about the gymnastics of sex. Nor the performance of it. But more the connection of it. We both relaxed against each other, and were happy and lighthearted. And then when he put himself inside me I just felt all of him and it was beautiful. A rich, moving and connected orgasm that rocked me and took me onto another plain for a little while. Delicious!<br />
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I talked him through my objections to 'exclusivity'. I don't want to be alone so much and he won't be able to be present enough with me for me to be ok. And, of course, I shouldn't be trying to fill up all my empty bits with any man. But I have also spent too many weekends and nights as lonely as hell. And I don't feel up to being in another relationship that recreates that for me. I've just started the healing process of being free after almost a year of recovering from the fuckedupness of the Narcery I endured for 5 years. Of feeling desired and wanted. Of unleashing my own sexuality on the world. Confining it again so soon? I think that's not a good idea for me right now.<br />
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And when I told him gently I think he really got that. I asked him if he wanted me to 'map out my landscape' for him properly so he could understand what men are around me and how the relationships work. He said he didn't know if he wanted that - that he thought it may hurt him too much to know. And I thought I wouldn't want to know when he was being intimate with his partner - for the same reason. I told him I would answer any questions and tell him what ever he wanted to know. But that I wouldn't force that info on him. And that we could change the rules of disclosure whenever we wanted. It's a new way of being for both of us - I want to manage it as gently and respectfully as I can.<br />
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Am I becoming a bit of a 'slattern' in the face of this recovery period? Maybe I am. And a lot of people might judge me for this behaviour. But I'm actually quite proud of myself. I'm playing naughtily for the first time in my life and it feels terrific!! I was the ultimate obedient daughter, golden child. I needed to fit into my Narc mother's ideal of how to behave. I was the oldest. I was responsible and compliant. And the policer of the rules for all of us siblings. And up until recently I was just not a girl who plays easily - if I took my family to Disneyland, I would be the one holding the snacks and jerseys while the rest of the family goes on all the rides. I have always held back and been reluctant to actually participate in the life of my loved ones, and even my own.<br />
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So one of my girlfriends was admonishing me a bit today to be careful with my heart. To protect myself better. To be careful with my body. And even though she's right, I also want to be risky. And frisky. And playful. And sexy. And out out out there just having a shitload of fun for a bit.<br />
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And in the middle of that, I bumped into an ex-pupil of mine from when I was a teacher more than 20 years ago. There was some serious chemistry with this boy then, not acted upon. And today he was suddenly standing in front of me, sexy as all hell. And I had my own naughty thoughts about how brilliant it would be to consummate that chemistry now - all these years later. Chill everyone - I'm not acting on it as yet. It's just nice to entertain the thought. Because I'm free to do so.<br />
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And next month I'll find out whether I have a long life ahead or a short one. And I'll think then about how that plays out for me. But for now I'm just going to be free.<br />
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Really really free.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-60569785477915320752015-04-27T17:27:00.001+02:002015-08-11T10:45:05.017+02:00In pursuit of sex. Or love? And is pursuit the right thing anyway?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I had a beautiful weekend. With one of my Cape Town girlfriends. We stayed together in my house and got drunk together on wine. And laughed our heads off. And told each other our truths about where our lives are at. Although we've been mates for over 20 years, we're actually so much closer now, since my big crash, than ever before. Because I'm no longer scared to let my precious people in to my innermost thoughts. I am no longer hiding in my own shadows, ashamed of the real woman who lives there. It's a wonderfully freeing thing. And so very rich to be able to just talk and be, and know that you are loved.<br />
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And throughout the weekend I have also been engaged with my various lovers or prospective lovers. Or ex lovers. And by engaged I mean connecting with some. and mulling about others. Bush Man popped into my messenger system with a delicious naked selfie after months of silence. Asking if I still remember him. And feeling frisky, clearly, and asking me for some new naked pics because he's lost his old ones. I laughed. and complied. Because it was fun to feel desired and playful with him. and because, if truth be told, I was feeling needy and lonely - my Tasmanian had disappeared on me, and my old abandonment issues began to bubble to the surface. Playing with Bush Man for a few hours helped soothe that. And, true to form, Bush man was soon gone as quickly as he arrived. I know this is who he is. I miss him, but I know this is all I'll have of him and so I have peace with that - he told me it would be like this, and he's true to his word.<br />
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And I even sent a tame pic to Charlie Harper in my drunken state. He responded (!!) by calling me 'My Angel'. Really? And said the pic was 'Stunning'. But nothing else. I was surprised he responded at all. But I'm not going to rise to the chasing bait now. If he wants me, he's going to have to come and try and get me. And depending on how hard he tries, I will consider my options and feelings then.<br />
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And the Tasmanian and I have been in contact a lot. A sexy, seductive engagement - far away from each other but still finding a way to be intimate. This pre-sex playing is great fun! He was also away from home, working in another town, and I only really had access to him late at night. But he was around a whole lot of drinking buddies and so, on a couple of evenings, just really disappeared on me, not really explaining his absence to me at the time. I really felt those abandonment things coming back at me thick and fast. All those wounds, old and new, can take a situation and twist it into the most horrible scenarios. He's drunk and shagging another chick. He's irritated with me and doesn't want to talk to me. He's over me already and now I'm just making a fool of myself by keeping in touch. I shouldn't have sent him that sexy pic because he'll show his mates, or even worse, the chick he's shagging, and laugh at me. Or something. Uggh. Horrible horrible stuff. MY stuff though. Not his.<br />
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So I tried to handle it in the most emotionally intelligent way possible. I told him I wasn't OK. That his absence hurt me. He got angry and grumpy and sarcastic a bit - so clearly I was making him feel blamed. He kept trying to push me to move on - didn't really feel happy with the discomfort of my sadness. And in the face of that I just kept on trying to explain that I wasn't blaming him. That I just do have these abandonment issues, and if he would be kind enough to manage my expectations about when he would be able to contact me, and when he couldn't, then I would manage my own feelings much more easily. I think he got it. And did try to do that more regularly after that, which I do appreciate. It's so nice when my man has compassion for how something makes me feel and does something to fix that.<br />
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We talked some more about his exclusivity need - where he needs me to be exclusive, although he won't be. I said 'No' again, and he's trying to push the issue, playfully telling me to inform the other 'dancers' that my dance card is full. But I'm still not biting. I'm not going to commit to that. At least not now. I'm free. I'm open. I'm learning new things with new people. and I still have no idea what the sex is going to be like between us. I'd love to know. Soon. Because I'm really craving that connected and beautiful sex that I haven't had for a long long time. Well, maybe a glimpse of it with Charlie, but very short lived!<br />
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I mulled about Bachelor number 1. And I sometimes think I should call him up and propose a casual sexual relationship. We're geographically incompatible. But maybe the sex would be lovely? Did I miss a trick there by moving on from him so fast to focus on Charlie Harper? And I pined a bit for Mark. Sent him some WhatsApps that he read but didn't respond to. Sigh.<br />
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So all of this flying about in my head. I feel an anxiety and an urgency about getting it settled. And maybe that's because of the backdrop of the pending doc appointment - am I fine or am I dying - maybe I don't have a lot of time left before my illness makes me no longer sexually desirable to anybody and I lose my chance at the sexual connection I'm craving forever. Or maybe it's my daddy issues screaming out loud and strong - hold me. Save me. Surround me. Make me feel safe. Protect me. Anybody. Please!!<br />
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So just letting it all be here, around me, without judgement. This is a tough road I'm walking. And I'm carrying many things that I'm trying to work through. I guess I still need to allow myself to misstep every now and then. Send that ill -advised message. Reveal too much of myself sometimes. Not respond in the perfect way.<br />
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Just be my own best friend on this road,<br />
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And get laid soon.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1391608778801376729.post-5256606589624705072015-04-23T08:58:00.002+02:002015-04-23T09:12:40.160+02:00Showing up as Authentic Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What a weird space I'm in right now. This l<a href="http://betterboundaries.blogspot.com/2015/04/lung-attack.html">imbo month of not really knowing what my health prognosis is for the future</a> is a bit of a mindfuck. I'm living every single connection I have with people in a very raw and real way. It's exhausting!<br />
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This past weekend was full of lovely connections. I spent Saturday morning with a longtime mate who I began a friendship with in the working space. But over the past year we have settled into a much more intimate and connected relationship, talking in a very real way about our lives. I think the shift was me, no longer pretending I'm living the dream in my very sorted life, but rather showing up with my authentic, less than perfect, thoughtful and raw space, and just telling the truth about what I'm living. Which gives her the courage to respond in kind. And the result is so very satisfying for us both. Two women. Walking a brave journey. Sharing it in the moment for a bit. My whole body felt exhausted after that...I had to go and lie down for a few hours!<br />
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And then on to an afternoon with another dear mate. More connecting. More realness. More lovely. And then to an evening engagement party for another of my mates. And there was my whole tribe. And I took Berlin as my 'friend-without-benefits' date. Because I missed him and wanted to spend some time with him. And also, a little bit, to gently shock my friends, if I must confess. Show up with another man, not my husband, just to jolt them all into the reality of who I am now. This (scarlet?) woman who is out there, seeing other men, living her new reality of this open marriage.<br />
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Berlin was great company. Our <a href="http://betterboundaries.blogspot.com/2015/03/he-just-leaves.html">'near miss' intimate moment</a> from a few weeks ago has resulted in a warm affectionate space for us, and it was just cozy and comfortable to be with him. Sitting close together, legs touching, but not having any intention of moving that along to something else. His arm loosely behind me on the couch. Nice. Comfortable. Easy.<br />
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By Sunday morning I was seriously finished, and spent most of the morning in bed, not even getting up for my cast-in-stone breakfast date with myself at Tasha's. I only dragged myself to the shower in the afternoon when it was time for me to have coffee with yet another girlfriend. Which was also real and lovely. Rich, nurturing girltime.<br />
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I didn't spend any time with my Tasmanian. Which I would have really struggled with, I think, had I not had such a really busy social schedule. On the one hand, of course, that's the key. Live a rich and full life of my own creation so I'm not pining away, lonely at home, waiting for Prince Charming to ride up and rescue my sorry ass from myself. On the other, it made me think very seriously about <a href="http://betterboundaries.blogspot.com/2015/04/just-kiss-new-boy.html">his desire to create an 'exclusive' relationship with me</a>. Where he gets my undivided attention, and that of his live-in partner. And I get his divided attention, when he can find secret time for me. I want to be able to head off on weekends away with my lover. Connect when I need the connection. Invite him to be my partner at engagement parties. But this wouldn't be like that. I like this man, and would enjoy an intimate relationship with him. But going exclusive with him? Not sure I'm up for paying the lonely price for that. Not yet anyway. Maybe I'd feel differently if I fell madly in love with him. But at the moment we're just playful and connected. But not in love.<br />
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And then there's the issue of <a href="http://betterboundaries.blogspot.com/2015/04/youve-been-charlie-harpered.html">Charlie Harper</a>. Who has not showed up again in any form. And I'm still nursing some sore heart and bruised ego about that. And grilling myself about being too needy and scaring him away. And imagining various 'you bastard' conversations I may have with him if I should ever bump into him again. But also, I need to look into the mirror and see myself about that again too. If he didn't see '<i>me</i>' enough to want to be with me, then we should not be together. I mustn't try to be different from who I am to make myself more attractive to him, which is my temptation. If he can't enjoy sexy me, and manage needy me, then he shouldn't be allowed to come anywhere near me.<br />
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Tasmanian seems to be able to like me even though I have showed him sexy me and needy me. Bush Man too. And Berlin. Once he got over himself. And, I'm thinking, the more I have the courage to show up as completely myself, which some people will like, and some wont, I'll be sifting through the piles of people who should be with me, and those who shouldn't. Because, really, who wants to be with people who don't like the real me? Where I would need to twist myself like a pretzel before I'm accepted. Fuck that! I get the real concept of this, all of a sudden, but I am still working though it at an emotional level, I must confess. But I will keep at it.<br />
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I'm an interesting woman. Aware of her own shit. Loving. Good. Sexy. Playful. Real. Clever. I can create great happiness and joy with men who have the courage and balls to be with me in all my flavours. And who take the time to know me and enjoy me. Being that woman should be my goal. And filter out all the shit Charlie Harper types who don't have the courage or the depth to be able to enjoy a woman like me.<br />
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Hear me roar!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0