Life is full of choices

Sometimes we make the wrong ones and have to live with them. Sometimes life just sucks.

Kingdom of isolation

I took my daughter to see Frozen recently.  It's the typical bullshit Disney creation fairy tale crap that leads young girls to believe that true love will find them and set them free.

But, as is often the case when under stimulated, I got to thinking.  I think I have possibly swung too far in the other direction. I am so sceptical about men and love that I discount it for everyone but that is not the case.

I watched my two cousins with their respective partners at Christmas and my heart glowed for them. I know it is but a snippet of their lives, I realise that there is always more to a relationship than people present externally but it gave me fresh perspective. Unprovoked these men approached their women to hug or kiss them. I had forgotten that was a thing. They both helped clear plates and their faces were fillies with joy as the girls opened their gifts.

I have been stuck in a certain mindset for so long I had forgotten that there are people in the world that actually care about other people (family doesn't count in this scenario). I was in a kingdom of isolation in my marriage and I let that carry forward afterwards.

I have been like Elsa from Frozen for so long - “Conceal, don't feel. Don't let them know" - that I had actually forgotten that there are good people out there. This reminded me of something my psychologist had repeatedly said, until I am ready to bring down my walls and show people who I really am I will continue to attract the wrong type of person.

To be brutally honest I have been so scared to demolish my protective barrier because I did not like what lay behind it. But my epiphany on Christmas morning has me confident enough to do so. Sure, I will likely get hurt but I hurt easily anyway.

Like Granpa Troll says - "The heart cannot be easily changed but the head can."
It is time to pull down the shield (no doubt it will go back up many times intermittently until it can stay down permanently). Mans is out at all times, no longer just for interspersed snippets.

Bootylicious

A friend of a friend made a comment recently "anyone who has the opportunity to wake next to you, especially with that arse, and doesn't is a total dick". Now, I have known this person for a long time. He knows me well and his comment made me laugh.

One of my favs of the Destiny's Child collection is Booytlicious. Notwithstanding the fact that I would love a top like the one Beyonce wears in the clip, the sentiment of the song is good for building self esteem. Let me be clear, I am not encouraging entitlement here. I do not like princesses. I do not endorse expectations placed on others. However, everyone should have standards. And have the self respect to stick to them. Set whatever standards you want, according to your own criteria but do not settle for someone that is not worthy of you, who does not treat you the way you want to be treated. Doing so will make you feel less important and, more than likely, unhappy.

Women, there is a shortage of quality men. Many are lazy and have little pride in their appearance. They have fucking ridiculous demands for their women yet expect that they can do whatever the fuck they want and have us waiting for them when they get home. Not on.

Again I say set your standards and stick to them. Find what you are unwilling to put up with then do not allow someone to push your boundaries.

And, remember, your body is bootylicious. Bootylicious is not just sex appeal, though that does form part of it. The essence of being bootylicious is not related to size either. It is a feeling, a sense of confidence and happiness in your own skin. Be proud of the person you are. Chase your dreams, fall madly in love, use your body, love it and let it love others. Don't be afraid of it and never be ashamed of it. Your body is your best asset. Look after it. Because, like one of the indiscernable cosmetic companies proclaims " you're worth it".

Casual sex

I read and article this morning. I don't want to link to it and promote it because I don't think is worthy. It was  a proponent for abstinence. I have no problem with people waiting until marriage to have sex. I have a problem suggesting that is the only course of action. There are plenty of people that don't marry but choose to live in committed defacto relationships. There are people that struggle to find someone they want to marry.

I believe that sex is special. I have never had sex with someone I don't love. I could never have a one night stand. I don't judge those that do. It's just not for me. I have body image issues and, on top of that, once I give someone my vagina they also have my heart. I hold both in very high regard and choose very carefully those that have access to either.

But I am in the minority. Most people are happy to shag someone they have just met. Good for them. Sex is a healthy thing and not something to be ashamed of. I have issues with promiscuity that is unsafe - unprotected sex with a stranger in an alley when drunk as a skunk is probably not the smartest move.

I know that my choices around sex is possibly one of the reasons men find me in attractive but I am done changing for others. I love sex. I miss it. But I am not about to hop in bed with someone to get my needs met because that is not the right thing for me. Moreover I don't share and there are plenty of men out there playing the field. Not my thing. Considering I have children I am okay with living apart together but, like a friend of mine says, loyalty is key.

I am happy for people to make their own choices as long as those choices that make them happy. Just don't impose your opinions on me.

Tea for one

A friend gave me a gorgeous oversized tea cup and saucer for Christmas. It takes half a kettle of water, weighs a tonne and requires a second stomach but I fucking love it!

The mug is large enough that if I hold it in both hands it warms them thoroughly. As I sit here in my quiet home looking forward to a day with my family and to picking up my babies tomorrow morning I can breathe. My hands are warm and my heart is full.

I have spent a great deal of time in the last week in quiet contemplation. This time of year is always one for reflection and vowing to do things differently next year. However, I am finally in a place where I am content with who I am inside. I do not need to make New Year's resolutions for I have done the hard work. I have found a place where I am proud of the person I am. I am, at 37, finally surrounded by gorgeous friends who are truly a part of my life. People who I have let in and see me at my worst and shared time with when I am at my best. I have come to realise that I am fun. That, when people say they love to be around me, they are not lying to make me feel better about myself - they actually mean it. I am meeting new people and growing in confidence that, because they are not obligated to spend time with me for they have no connection to me, they actually like me. And these people have met me at a time where I refuse to put on a mask so they like me me; not the facade that I have presented for the last fifteen years. They like me. Despite my flaws they want to spend time with me. I am learning to stand up for myself and make my needs known. I am (mostly) okay with being on my own. Though I yearn to share my life with someone I am not going to fall to pieces if it does not happen.

I have even come to peace with the fact that I do not spend anywhere near as much time with my children as I would like. I still cry every day, yearning to be with them but I have come to accept that there is nothing I can do to change that right now. Countless hours reading the family law act and the equal opportunities act have taught me that the law is against me. I do not have the funds to fight it and expending my energy trying to find a way to change the situation has meant that I sleep for about forty minutes a day. That is not sustainable. It stops now. My children know that I love them. I will fight for them in every way that I can but this is a battle I cannot win.  As they get older they will learn that you don't always get what you want, regardless of how hard you try. They know that I want them with me and that is the best I can do. I will continue to wage battles with their father on their behalf but he is a good Dad and I know that my babies are okay. Of course I would do a better job but I am biased!

So, as I finish my mammoth cup of tea that leaves me with a slooshing sound in my stomach as a move, I realise that I am in a place I need to be. I am free from daily abuse. My children no longer endure the countless arguments over the same thing. I have showed my daughter that women do not need to endure that behaviour. I have shown my son that the behaviour I was subjected to is not acceptable. I hope that they both carry that with them through life.

I sit here in my quiet home on a bright, overcast Christmas morning and I realise that I am worthy. I am but one person in the fabric of life; no more or less important than any other. Except for to me. To me, I am the most important person in the world. I am going to focus on not sabotaging my life as I have done in the past. In thinking I was not worthy of love, affection, friendship and respect I have allowed people to mistreat me. I enabled my ex-husband to consistently take from me, never having my needs met. And because I was not brave enough to speak out, the situation spiraled out of control and I lost something that was very important to me. Moreso, I lost myself. I became a shell of a person willing to do anything to please the man that I loved, hoping in vain that it would mean that he would love me back. But the truth is that he did not love me. He loved the idea of me and wanted to mould me into the person that he needed. It is not fair to ask that of someone. To ask someone to become someone else in order for you to love them means that they are not the one for you.

I have learnt many things in the last few years. The biggest lesson being that if someone does not love me for exactly who I am; if they cannot provide me with the things that I need (not want, I can cater for that myself) then they are not worthy. I am worthy of being loved for who I am - warts and all! I don't ever pretend to be perfect. I have flaws aplenty and I own them. I am transparent. I do not pretend to be someone I am not. I am insecure. I do get jealous. I am fussy when it comes to food. I will jump on the retaining wall and walk along it just for fun. I will put ribbons in my hair like a five year old. I will cry when I get upset. I will get angry when people do the wrong thing. I am passionate about my job and I take pride in the work that I do. I will not reapply lipstick or any other makeup once I leave the house. I will dance. I am affectionate. I love hugs and kisses. I will do yoga. I will go to gym twice in a day. I will walk for pleasure. If any of that bothers you then don't hang around. For I am me and I am worthy just as I am. I am happy with my big yellow mug and my tea for one.

But, for those that do like me for who I am, you will be rewarded with the most loyal, generous and devoted friend. I will stick by you through thick and thin. I will sacrifice for you. I will lie for you. I will prioritise you and I will love you unconditionally.

Merry Christmas

For all those people who asked why I didn't have a tree - they don't see Ryan at Kmart:

And for those who believe in Santa:

And to you all, a very merry Christmas to you and your loved ones.

Made with love

I believe all food should be made with love. Last night my nephew made my 'dinner' with love. It consisted of Oreos, Freddo frog biscuits, junbie lollies, honey, chocolate fudge sauce and ice cream. It was loaded with sugar and totally inappropriate for dinner but it was delicious and, best if all, it was made with love.

Let me live!

I caught up with one of my favourite friends on the weekend. She came down from Gippsland sans kids. We shared a lovely meal at L'amina (which I can thoroughly recommend). We then went dancing and it was so much fun. We've only known each other post children (our daughters are besties) so we have not done the nightclub thing together before. Our loss! Damn, we had so much fun!

One of the things she shared with me over the course of the night was an expression she and her husband use "let me live". It's something that came about after an incident which left them exasperated and his response to her was "why won't they just let me live?".  It's something they have subsequently adopted to all manner of situations - someone's blocking traffic "let me live"; someone takes too long to serve you "let me live" and, in our case, someone won't leave you alone on the dance floor "let me live!".

"Let me live" is my catch cry for 2014. I am going to try to stop berating myself, punishing myself and holding myself back. In 2014 I am going to give myself permission to live. I deserve it just as much as anyone else.

The naked truth

I don't love my body but I work hard - I go to gym, do yoga and walk. I used to run, which I miss because it is good for my emotional health (and it has a positive effect on my arse).

This morning I got out of the shower and could not decide what to wear; a common occurrence on a work day. I lay on my bed, nekkid, trying to decide what to don for the day and I was reminded of something I saw recently. It was a gorgeous piece about a girl accepting her body for what it is, imperfections and all. No one has a perfect body. No one.

Every child has fallen over and scraped their knee or sliced themself open. We are all scarred. Skin is a living, breathing organ - it discolours; it stretches and shrinks; eventually it sags.  No one is perfect. We all have hair in places we may or may not want it to be. And our hair will go grey or fall out or both. We are, all of us, imperfect.

I have been working hard to accept my imperfections. Not only the superficial ones - the stretch marks, the hair, the cellulite, the chub, the wrinkles, the dimples and the scars - but also the fundamental ones - the insecurities, the low self esteem. The list goes on.

As I lay on my bed, I thought about my imperfections. What I noticed, however were the muscles on my stomach, the curve of my hip and the lines of my legs. I may not be perfect but, for a chick with two kids nearing forty, I am doing okay.

Fuck the naysayers! They shall have no part in my life.

Face About Frinspiration

I have been in a foul mood for days. I know why and I am processing as best I can. I find these tips helpful most of the time when I am cranky but this time is different. I can't yet figure out exactly why it is so and I know that I will most likely be in a cranky mood until I can get to the bottom of it.

So, in an effort to pull myself out of the doldrums I shall turn to the Dalai Lama:

"Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions"

Insults abound

So. I had a work Christmas party last night. One of the guys from work told me I need a boob job and another guy I met told me I am single because I am old and dull. 

What the fuck makes people think it is okay to say that kind of shit? What happened to the old adage "if you don't have something nice to say don't say anything at all"?

I know I'm far from perfect but I don't need my flaws shoved down my throat!

Body image

I don't like my body. I don't hate it as much as I used to but I see the flaws first. My fears that no one is going to ever find me attractive were highlighted recently when at the pub with some coworkers. Apparently one of them saw fit to appraise my physical form and the results were not pretty.  Needless to say, the doubts creep in a little further and I once again find myself cursing the fact that I cannot run at the moment.

Sleep

Sleep is a real issue for me. I can't seem to do it anymore.

I saw a gorgeous story about a toddler and his pup sleeping together today and it made me so happy. I firmly believe that humans are meant to be touched and that sharing sleep is a natural extension of that. Evidence abounds regarding the synchronisation of sleep cycles when people share a bed. It does not surprise me - sharing a bed means sharing body heat, security and love. Who doesn't want that?

Comfort zone

I have been outside my comfort zone for 18 months or so. It's frightening, challenging, disappointing and terrifying but I have grown and changed as a result. I can do things I have not been able to previously. I am okay with most of me now. Previously I have hated every aspect of myself. I am now able to see that my opinion of myself is the only one that matters.

Who cares if the guy in the office thinks I'm a dick? So what if the dude in the bar says I am too old to be out dancing? What does it matter if the barista thinks I have food issues? What bearing does it have on anyone else's life if the only man I am interested in is not interested in me? So what if people don't approve of what I wear?

I own my shit. I am mot perfect. I never will be. But for the first time in my life I can hold my head up when a group of people diss my outfit. Fuck you guys! I wear clothes for me. I wear what makes me happy. If you don't like it don't look.

I am learning to stand up for myself. When someone tells me I to do (or not do) something I no longer automatically comply. I will take a minute to determine what I want and then I do that. Regardless of what that person may think.

I used to be such an attention whore. I was only happy if I had reassurance from someone else  - do I look okay? Did I say the right thing? Did I do something wrong? I realise now that those habits were formed as a response to the constant negativity I was exposed to. The insecurity I displayed were a reflection of my deep seated hatred for myself; for my inability to stand up for myself and because I was scared. Fear is a terrible thing.

I now do as I please rather than doing what I think others want me to do. I worry a lot less. I am living more in the moment. I relive situations and conversations less often. I don't stress about tomorrow as much and I am finding inner contentment.

I am finding that I am able to constantly and consistently stretch myself. I try to step out of my comfort zone regularly so as to continue to flourish. It's not pretty but it will be worthwhile.

Frinspiration

I have selected the Frinspiration for this week in the hope that the lady I witnessed in the assault has been strong enough to stay away from her abusive partner.

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter - Martin Luther King Jr.

Love, true love

This is one of the most simultaneously beautiful and nauseating things I have ever read. Hoax or no, the cynic in me thinks this is just publicity at its best. The optimist knows that love is what pulls people out of the depths of despair. I know. I have been there. Thanks to those friends and family who have been with me on this tumultuous journey. The road is long. 

Pure simplicity

I love this

Wake the fuck up

I've been contemplating my last post. People take advantage of me because I let them. I am too generous because I am still seeking approval. I crave affection. I am lacking physical contact. Due to this deprivation I am vulnerable. I make poor decisions. I am looking for something that does not exist. I need, as a friend aptly pointed out, to get over myself.

Generous to a fault

I am overly generous. I give more than I should and more than most deserve. I give because it is my way of showing I care. I don't mean financially (though I would be that way inclined if I was wealthy). I mean in terms of my time, labour and love.

Most of the time I have not issues with it. I know that others are not that way inclined and I do not expect reciprocation. There are times, however, where I feel somewhat used. I get angry at myself for  putting myself in that position. I put not responsibility on the other person but I often wonder whether they are even aware of it. For example, I was going to get sushi for lunch today so offered to pick some up for a coworker. It bothered me that when I had the courtesy to let him know there was a huge queue and that I would be a while his response was that he didn't care whether I returned or not. Don't ask me to do something for you if you're not interested. It is a waste of my time and effort. That disrespect is unnecessary.

I am angry that I don't learn though. I know that next time I head out I will feel obliged to offer and I will kick myself for it.

Plan B

It always pays to have a backup plan. While chatting to a girlfriend, I have decided that I am stranger than most. I am living my plan B, waiting for my plan A to eventuate.

Pain in the butt

I have injured myself. Specifically my gluteus medius or piriformis (the "experts" cannot agree). It is, quite literally a pain in the arse. I cannot find comfort. It hurts to sit. It hurts to stand. There is no way I can sleep on my side and I can't sleep on my back. I miss running; I feel terrible without it. I have spent way too much money on therapy - osteo, physio and massage as well as doctor and waiting to spend hundreds on an MRI. I feel like my body is failing me.

In reality I wonder whether it has reached saturation point. I have been emotionally exhausted for the better part of a decade. I worked three very stressful jobs to support my family; moved to Melbourne and endured the greatest heartbreak ever. I have survived physical and emotional abuse and separation from my gorgeous children. I fell into a pit and have pulled myself out. I am not surprised that my nails are splitting, my hair does not grow and my muscles are fatigued.

Domestic violence

I was fortunate enough to witness a domestic violence act tonight. My gorgeous friend and I were departing a particularly ordinary public event when we saw a man put his hands around a women's throat, push her backwards into a van and then punch her so hard in the face she fell to the floor. I say fortunate because, having both been exposed to domestic violence, we were in a position to assist this women in her battle against assault. No one deserves to be treated like that. Not by a stranger and definitely not by someone that is meant to love you.

If you are exposed to domestic violence, seek help and get out. He's not going to change. Hitting, punching, pushing, throttling or grabbing are not okay acts for one person to do to another. Please respect yourself enough to walk away from that. There is help available to identify domestic violence or get assistance.

First rule of Mandy

It is Thursday. Bring on the dancing. Escapism at its finest

The whole package

There is an episode of Friends where Joey is given word of the day toilet paper. His response is a confident "Look out ladies, Joey Tribbiani's got the whole package". I have a friend, two actually, who regularly tell me they wish they were lesbians so we could hook up. They seem to forget that I like penis and am about as far removed from lesbianism as it is possible to be. Anyhoo... I have digressed. My point is thus; there are (scant and scattered) days when I think they might be right. There is little I cannot do. When asked I used to respond with "pee standing up" but I've since managed to cross that off the list of things I cannot do. I am not a great singer (but I don't let they stop me).

I was chatting to a friend tonight and I had to see his point. I'm pretty amenable to learning new things and I am not averse to doing "manly" jobs. I may not have big breasts or the voice of an angel but I do alright. I'm finding that I don't detest myself with as much vigor as I once did and I am okay if people don't like me. Whet matters is that I like me. I am comfortable on my own. I would like someone to share it with but not at the expense of my morale or values. I will hold true to me first. No one is to use me as a doormat again.

I think people can see the shift, too. I don't need anyone in my life. There are plenty of people I want as a part of my life, everyday if possible, but I don't need them. I can look after myself and if they don't like me I am sure to find someone who will. For I am pretty damn close to having the whole package and nobody's perfect so this may be as good as it gets.

Bat shit crazy

Why is it that when I stand up for myself people think there is something wrong with me? Apparently I am insane, totally bat shit crazy, for maintaining established boundaries. For calling someone on their bullshit I am projecting and have a skewed perception.

I have been a doormat in the past and it will take me years to undo the damage that has caused. My poor self esteem was pummelled and I was so insecure. I have vowed never to allow myself back into that. I find it really difficult. I regress, especially with my family (who I feel obliged to placate at all costs) and my ex. But I keep at it. I have pretty simple requirements - don't cheat, don't lie and follow through on your word.

I can see that a reaction like this when someone stands up for their beliefs is a self defence mechanism. People are generally not fond of hearing something unpleasant about themselves.  Change is difficult and it can be confronting when faced with the truth. I can also see this reaction can become habit.

In this situation, as I see it, the person being confronted can take one of a number of paths. They can ask questions and try to understand the situation (this requires the ability to empathise and is based on respect and care for the other person). They can ignore it and hope the problem goes away (potentially risking the relationship). Or they can throw a barrage of insults at the first person and turn the issue into their own (thereby protecting themself by not having to acknowledge or accept the situation).

Option one is the most difficult but it is the only one that leads to resolution. Either the issue is sorted out and the relationship continues or there is an impasse and the relationship comes to an end.

The second option will only hold up for so long. Like sweeping dust under a carpet eventually the ugly lump will show, someone will trip up and there is likely to be an injury. In this instance, damage for the person trying to maintain the boundaries is usually long-lasting and difficult to overcome.

The third option is the path of the insecure. It is used primarily when the unpleasantness hits a raw nerve and is too confronting for the individual on the receiving end. Rather than see it for what it is they take it as a personal insult and, usually as a result of conditioning, they lash out at the first person; turning things around and highlighting flaws in the person that is trying to stand up for themselves. A slinging match may start and it generally leads to a downward spiral of blame and finger pointing that can be very hard to come back from.

Music therapy

I have the most wonderful friends and I am so thankful for them all. One in particular has been instrumental in my life. Mostly literally. He accepted me exactly as I was and still does. He knows my imperfections, more so than most, yet he is unperturbed. He has fostered my love for music and is the reason I now take every opportunity to attend concerts. My appreciation for live music is totally attributable to him. When we were in our teens he'd play guitar while I laid on the floor of his room and just listened. Those are some of the happiest memories of my life.

This man is a true gentleman. He is sweet, kind, strong and adventurous. He is a loving son, devoted husband and will make a fantastic father. When I think of him I see him travelling Asia with random children on his shoulders. He has, and always will, make me smile and laugh until I cry. He is smart and exceptionally talented.

When we were at school he made me a mixed tape. I still remember and adore much of the songs that were on it. When I hear them now they make me smile because they remind me of him. Today, I came home to a carefully selected mix of music. I lay on my floor in the dark with the smell of fresh summer rain coming through the open windows and listened. Just like I did when I was a teenager. As tears stream down my face my heart feels simultaneously lighter and fuller.

Future wanted

Today I decided that perhaps I am not unwanted but future wanted. Maybe there's someone out there that would find me attractive, fun and interesting. I just have not met them yet.

Clean sheets

There is a special joy in having a shower and getting in to clean sheets. I am trying to avoid ifs but I feel it would be nice if there was a sexy man as well.

Beggars cannot be choosers as they say.

Power hug

I've spoken previously about the power of human touch but the quote sums it up so nicely.

Love my vejayjay

Jamie McCartney has created the Great Wall of vagina. Jamie has moulded 400 vaginas of 400 women aged between the ages of 18 and 76 to create a nine metre long tribute to the vulva.

I have strong objection to genital mutilation. I am against circumcision for males and female genital mutilation. Removing body parts to achieve a cosmetic end is questionable at best. Female genital mutilation is not straightforward and can involve removing part of all of clitoris, labia minora and/or labia majora; narrowing the vaginal opening by creating a cover or seal as well as pricking, scraping or cauterizing the genital area.

I have a poor self image. It is something I am working really hard on. I hate being naked but have been forcing myself to try not to be repulsed by my body. If I cannot accept my body then I cannot expect to stand up for what I want if I have an intimate relationship.

While I can see that Mr McCartney may have had ulterior motives with this work of "art" I like the sentiment behind it. All vaginas, like all noses/feet/teeth/ears, are different. Accept it or move on. No one should tolerate their partner telling them that they are imperfect/unattractive/not worthy because of the shape/colour/length/lumpiness of their lips, the depth or width of their vagina or the location of their cervix. The clitoris is the most sensitive erogenous zone in a women's body and should be revered not severed.

Women, love your vejayjay!

Love

Dr Seuss is one smart man

Best thing I never had

Sometimes it is the one that got away that is a blessing. Finding out early that a man is a snake has to be better than enduring a barrage of crap. Those who believe in karma would say that he'll see what he missed out on and regret it. I do not believe in karma.

If you are one of the lucky ones that avoided heartbreak by not entering into a relationship with a man that did not deserve you, was not worthy or treats others like crap; be thankful.

Crazy in love

I do not fall in love easily but when I do I fall hard and it takes me a long time to get over people I love. I am the epitome of crazy in love. Perhaps that's one of my problems. I have been working very hard on controlling my emotions, constantly pulling back. Consistently withholding from others. The leash has been getting tighter and tighter. I find myself clenching my hands together behind my back to stop myself from physically reaching out at times. I am so restrained in my actions. I bite my tongue, I resist following my natural instincts and I harness my every move.

I think I am pretty easy to love. I am fairly relaxed about life, I am easy to please and I don't impose on others. Clearly my ex thinks differently as he has dubbed "totally unloveable" (and fundamentally flawed). Bitterness aside, it would appear that he is actually right: I am unloveable.

I don't want someone to need me; I like my independence and I am not prepared to let go of that again. I just want someone to want me. I would like, just for once, to be chosen. I'm the girl at the end of the night that's still dancing alone when all the girls are kissing guys. I'm the girl that is friend-zoned. Guys are happy to look but none are interested in anything more than that. I would much rather be unattractive and likeable. To be pretty is nothing. It's a veneer, an outer coating that has no real value. There's no greater insult than having someone reject you once they actually get to know you. All the things that attracted them in the first place are not strong enough for them to hold on to once they take the veil off and see what lies underneath.

I am flamboyant, energetic, generous and fun. All of which are apparently unattractive qualities, embarrassing to those around me and offensive. I cannot, and will not, change who I am so I need to learn to accept that I am going to be alone. I'm just not sure how to do that yet. I have had a lot of practice in the last eighteen months but I hate it, to be honest.

I know I can cope on my own. I have my interests, my friends, my family but I miss being touched. I miss being hugged. I miss sex. I do not believe the humans are designed to live without touch. I am finding myself craving it more and more. It's the only thing I cannot provide for myself. Though it would be nice, I don't need emotional support from a guy. I have very little financially but I don't want a man's money either. I like nice things and have expensive tastes but I don't need gifts or lavish outings. I miss the intimacy of a relationship - sharing thoughts, ideas, feelings. I miss the occasional gentle touch, a peck here, a butt squeeze there.

Hair of the bitch?

I am taking a quick diversion from Beyonce week because I went to the night noodle markets in Melbourne  tonight. I saw all these hipster douchebags sporting Ned Kelly-esq beards, running around in their Capri pants and canvas shoes and I wonder whether they've taken the pubic hair from their partners nether regions and their facial hair is just compensating for all the naked vaginas.

Ed - Came across this article and thought it fitting

Put a ring on it

One of the reasons I love Beyonce is that she is willing to take the piss. JT's spoof of Single Ladies is gold. Any woman that can do a side lunge like that in heels has my respect. And, quite honestly, the analogy of a man hugging me tighter than my very own jeans is so appealing right now!

Irreplaceable

I am dedicating this week to a pop princess - Beyonce Knowles-Carter is an advocate for empowerment and has been touted as a 'modern day feminist'. All accolades aside (and there are a number), she is an exceptionally talented individual with the voice of an angel.

Right now I am loving the strength that Beyonce shows. This is a woman who seems pretty self-assured, something I am definitely not (but am working on establishing a framework for). I am, step by step, building a base to which I can return when I lose my way. I am sorting through my shit and developing a firm base of who I am, what matters to me and where I want to be. I am reinforcing boundaries and letting go of inhibitions. I am spending a lot of time exploring things I have never had time to think about let alone assess and define. I am a survivor.

One of the songs that is resonating with me a lot lately is irreplaceable. No one is irreplaceable. Realising this is a blessing and a curse. I once, foolishly, thought my ex would miss me when I left. He did not. He has moved on. Twice. And is happier than ever. I know no one believes me but I am honestly thankful that he has someone in his life. I want him to be happy. He is the father of my children and I believe he will be a better dad to them if he is personally happy.

Beyonce

Contentment

This morning I woke (alone as usual) and while I would love to be loved and share my life with someone I am content today. I have a whole weekend ahead with no plans. Six weeks ago that would have terrified me but today I have been lying in bed thinking of all the things I would like to do and there are so many. Being alone means I don't have anyone else to consider. I can cram a million things into my day or I could lie on the couch. No one would know. No one would care. Either way I can do exactly as I please.

While there are a million reasons why I want a sexy man in my life I am not willing to settle for someone who won't treat me well. I'd rather be alone than have the actions (or in actions) of another affect my happiness. Until such time as I am fully comfortable in my own skin I am better off alone. Otherwise I am likely to fall for another arsehole.

A picture is worth a thousand words

Today I changed my profile picture on an internal application at work. Previously it was a photo of me taken from outside working at cleaning second-hand windows that had been left out in the weather for way too long. Though I am smiling my eyes are dead. I have instead replaced it with a photo of me smiling wholeheartedly. I am not hiding behind a veil of glass. I am raw and exposed. And my smile comes from my eyes not just my mouth.

I find it telling. I am alone, without my children that I absolutely adore but I am shining from within. I am still fighting the demons in my head and the monsters within but I am free of daily negativity and soul destruction. Baby steps but that mountain is getting closer and one day I will be on the other side of it.

Frinspiration

Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. 

Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing 

- August Wilson

Self opinion

A forensic artist drew a group of people. First with that person's description of them self and then with a strangers description. The results are amazing.

I know I don't see what others do. I know I am overly critical of myself. I ignore compliments and fixate on negative comments and insults. Ian a perfectionist seeking the unattainable but I recognise that and I am fighting against it.

Self love peeps, it is the path to acceptance and self confidence. Cockiness and arrogance are unattractive but confidence is sexy as!

So what

I like Pink (SURPRISE!). Today my mood matches "So What". It's all a farce. She's not alright. Not even one little bit.

Control

This says it all.  Apart from the reference to a speedometer rather than an odometer, this is the most accurate and succinct article on the topic I have read in months.

It saddens me greatly that our society is so lax on people who behave in this manner but it worries me that we are not equipping our children to stand up for themselves. Self esteem is undervalued where cockiness is revered. We need to be teaching children to develop healthy self esteems, where they respect themselves enough to turn away from those that treat them badly.

Furthermore, we need skilled practitioners that can help those exposed to such abuse pull themselves up to the point where they don't repeat their same mistakes. People exposed to treatment like this don't need to hear that they should top themselves (they're probably considering that anyway considering the abuse they have received); they don't need to hear that time will heal all they need coaching to develop the skills to assert themselves.

Denigration, especially if received over years, is difficult to undo. It becomes ingrained and habitual. The constant insults swim around and attack when you're most vulnerable - those moments when you are about to stand up for yourself or when you want to make a big decision in your own best interest. And the people that abuse are smart - they know who to pick, those with low self-confidence and people-pleasers are easy to manipulate. They spot a weakness and feed off it.

Wishful

I sit between two guys at work. All day long they're texting; smiling when their phone vibrates, thrilled that their woman has sent them a message. The chicks say "jump" and I can hear their subconscious response ("how high?"). While it's cute it's also an infuriating reminder that I'm alone and unloved. They're going home to adoration, affection and company and I have nothing.

I crank up my tunes and submerse myself in my work; try not to let it get to me. But it does. It really and truly does. I find myself thinking 'what's wrong with me?'. I am kind and generous, thoughtful and fun. Why is no one interested in me? Is my ex right? Am I fundamentally flawed and unloveable?

No one said life was easy but this is completely fucked up.

Music therapy

Yesterday as I drove after a particularly shitful encounter with my ex I cranked up the tunes and sang until my throat hurt. I sang 'How Come You're Not Here' for all the fuckers out there that have rejected me once they have got to know me. I sang 'Wings' for my Mumma. I sang 'True Love' and 'Pursuit of Happiness' for my soul mate. I sang 'Acapella', 'Roar', 'There You Go', 'Fighter', 'Shackles' and 'Fuck You' for me. I sang 'The Gambler' for my sister and 'Bright Lights Bigger City' for my cousin.  I sang 'Beep' for my niece.  I sang 'Talk Dirty' and 'Shake That Ass' for shits and giggles.

I sang and I sang and I sang.  And I danced.

As a result, I am still here today. Bring it on fuckwit! You won't win.

Dry as a bone

I am over fighting. I am over chasing. I am over it all. I have nothing left. I am dry as a bone. I am tired of bearing the brunt of hatred and anger. I have endured it for nearly a decade and I am worn through. Like a rock in a river, I have been picked up and thrown back, cracking as a result. I have been eroded by water and tumbled in rough sand. I have been admired briefly for my outer appearance but discarded time and time again for the qualities that lie underneath.

I have no way out; no avenue to explore. I have no hope. I am stuck on a path for at least another decade and so I have no choice but to plod on. Left foot. Right foot.

The only joy I have are the brief times I spend with my children but they are too infrequent and bittersweet. My other sources of joy have dried up like my humble heart. Shrivelled and smelly like a corpse on a hot summer day.

Pepper Pots

I rarely wear my hair up as it tends to give me a headache. However, when I am running late or the power is out (like it was this morning) I will sucumb. I wore my hair in a straight pony tail when my cousin was here and he told me that I looked like Pepper Pots. I love Gwyneth Paltrow and I think she portray Pepper Pots perfectly. She's glamorous, efficient, loyal and stands for no shit. She is confident and competent. I aspire to be like that.

Parenting fail

My son and I are clashing terribly lately. Regardless of what I do he's cranky at me. It's heartbreaking, frustrating and challenging. I know that I had real issues at the same age and I am trying to ensure that I provide him with all the emotional support that I can to help him through but I totally lost my shit with him today. I'm not proud of myself. In fact, it is tearing me apart. We talked at length about it afterwards and he seemed okay but it's shattered me.

I'm pretty fragile anyway but to see my children suffer just tears me to pieces. Throw your shit at me; I will find a way to cope. My children are different. I feel guilty that I lost my temper. I did not say anything I regret but I worry that I was too harsh.

I'm not a patient person. My son isn't either. In fact, we have very similar personalities which is why I find him challenging to parent. I know tomorrow will bring with it another opportunity to rectify things with him but right now my heart is aching for my boy who is struggling to articulate what's going on.

Frinspiration

Some people believe holding on and hanging in there are signs of great strength. However, there are times when it takes much more strength to know when to let go and then do it.

Ann Landers

Light the spark

People like us - we don't need that much

Just someone that starts

Starts the spark in our bonfire heart

~ James Blunt

In my lifetime I have met two men that have made me feel truly alive. Both were sexy as all get out and so much freaking fun! Besides those I have with my children, the times I spent with these two men are the happiest memories of my life. I feel blessed, to be honest. Some people go through their whole life without experiencing the spark. It's undervalued and elusive. It is hard to describe and impossible to create - it's either there or it is not. It is not something you can fake, nor is it something that you can hide. It is something that is envied and absolutely addictive.

Falling in love

The seventh is at ladies' night at Spice Market - let the dancing begin.

Compassion

I have a beautiful friend who is really suffering at the moment. It is written all over his face, in his body language and his eyes. Pain oozes from him yet he won't divulge the cause. My heart bleeds for him.

Compassion, the sympathetic concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others, is rare in our competitive society. Generally speaking, children are brought up to advance themselves at all costs. Taking advantage of others for personal gain is rewarded and admired. Listen to a group of guys at a pub and they'll brag about how they are ripping off women for sex, free drinks, meals and travel (this needs to be moderated somewhat as men tend to bang their chests when in a group but it's likely to be based on truth). As long as you don't get caught, it's okay to cheat on your partner (and now I have Shaggy's "It wasn't me" stuck in my head!).

Not in my world!

People, show some basic human qualities of compassion and respect. Let others share their burden, download their troubles and spill their foibles. Then, keep your fucking mouth shut about it. Don't share it with other people, whether they know the first person or not.

Pretty me up

I love frocking up. I love the way I feel in a dress and heels, hair done and make up on. It is a mask. It hides my inner fears and allows me to blend more easily among the real women of the world (you know, the flawless glamorous women who reapply lipstick and always look awesome).

Thursdays are my favourite day of the week. My dependable girls and I go out dancing. There's sometimes drinking but that's secondary to getting our groove on.

I dress according to my mood. Tonight will be a either my green one shoulder dress and beige heels with matching clutch or a black leather-look skirt with sheer top and black strappy heels with shoulder bag. If I am feeling flat I'll go the black option because there's no need to worry about slippage exposing breast.

Most importantly, I always dance up a storm. I love the escape from the shitstorm that is my life. I love that I can go to another place in my head and no one can penetrate into it. For those five or six hours that I am dancing I am safe and happy.

Grammar Nazi

I am a grammar Nazi. I hate misspelling, loathe the misuse of the apostrophe and if you cannot get a grip on your and you're then you're out of my sphere of concern.  One of my pet hates is the use of 'suppose' instead of supposed.  You are supposed to meet your mother when you're done washing your car. You suppose that your mother will forgive your tardiness because you're going to hug her when you arrive. Get. It. Right.

Texting has killed the vowel. Txt and thx drive me crazy! FFS there's only one more letter to write text rather than txt and thx is just disrespectful! If you are truly thankful for something take the extra seventeen microseconds to type an additional three characters.

Rant over.

Match made in heaven

A friend of mine has this thing where she judges couples we see out and about, assessing them for their compatibility based solely on their appearance. I found myself on the receiving end of the same assessment when I was out with a friend recently. I had no fewer than eight women, assuming we were a couple, come and tell me we were mismatched and stating I could do "better".

Admittedly I was rocking a freaking awesome dress and my cousin had worked some kind of magic beauty spell when she did my hair in curls. But who is to judge "better" for me other than me?

However, I do find it an interesting theory. Can you tell relationship success from how people dress? If so, does everyone dress authentically? By that I mean, do people always wear what they are truly comfortable and actually like or do they wear what they think they are supposed to? Cause that is going to skew your results.

Something to ponder further.

Summer in Melbourne

Summer in Melbourne starts soon (not that you'd know with the wintery weather we've had lately). I am going to check out the Noodle Markets. It's not particularly my type of food but it is my type of event - loads of people, bands, fresh air and alcohol!

The price of fame

It's no secret that I have found the demise of my marriage a struggle. However, I consider myself fortunate. For I am not famous. I think most are aware of Miley Cyrus' trampish behaviour with Robin Thicke at the 2013 VMA. Then there was the travesty of Wrecking Ball - anyone who kisses a hammer should probably seek professional help. Now, she's penned an open letter to Liam Hemsworth, twerked a midget and smoked a j on stage. I feel for the poor troubled soul. I think she's more fucked up than me.

Wading through poo

I met with a friend recently who divulged a lot of information in a short space of time. It was a heavy conversation on many fronts and totally enlightening as a result. A lot of what we covered was challenging, real and raw. I was exhausted afterwards.

I was confronted by the ugly truth of my life following a very trying day. It was late and I was emotionally drained when I got home. Again, I reached out to the wrong person at my time of need and got doughnuts in return. I never seem to learn.

However, my wise friend had commented that wading through poo makes a stronger you. I am sticking with that theory and hoping I don't stink too much when I come out the other side.

Reaching evermore

This was me at the start of yoga last night

I had (another) a terrible day and was looking forward to catch up with a friend, despite my fatigue and the rainy drive and I just was not in the right frame of mind for yoga.

Ten minutes in and the deep breathing had eased the pain in my chest from postherpetic neuralgia; my shoulders had dropped and my mind had slowed down. I was in transition from stress monkey to being in control. I am reaching evermore for peace but it could hurry up and show any time now. Acceptance is elusive and stresses are mounding.

Om.

They be smokin'

Sometimes I wish I was a smoker. I like the social aspect of smoking and the acceptable additional breaks from work if you are a smoker. I think smokers are better conversationalists than most other people, too. Probably from striking up a convo with randoms in the street on a regular occurrence.

Some nights

Ninety per cent of the time I'm okay now. However, there are nights like tonight where I lie and cry. For so many reasons. I cry for Euan and Gemma and just want them with me. I cry for my Lily. I cry for friends who have also lost babies. I cry because my dad is terminally ill and I owe my mum money that I cannot repay and I know all she wants to do is retire and travel. I cry for my sister who I love more than she knows. I cry for my gorgeous friend who just wants to find someone decent. I cry for my best friend who is struggling so much more than he needs to at the moment. I cry because the world is unjust and fucked up.

I cry and I cry and I cry. Until the sobs turn to silent tears which just drop silently off my nose and soak into the pillow. I cry until my throat and chest hurt. I cry until there is nothing left inside and I hope, beyond all hope, that I can maintain the numbness I feel when the tears have stopped falling and the pillow starts to dry knowing, though, that the morning will bring with it the ever present pain. The dull ache of sadness. The effort with each breathe. I know that the morning will bring with it not only yet another opportunity to try to do better but the inevitable disappointment when it draws to a close and I've lost another twenty four hours without achieving anything.

So I take a deep breath and soldier on. I know that these days are infrequent now and continue to be less a part of my life. Time heals all wounds and all that crap.

Wise words

Born this way

I am crazy. Not necessarily admissible nor diagnosable but mad to the core. My gorgeous cousin did my hair for me last night and I was in quite a playful mood when my sister said she wanted a photo. This is what she got for her request!

Art

I generally don't get art. I cannot see the beauty in Jackson Pollock's blobs of coloured paint on a canvas - my kids are talented enough to do that! But there is something really special about art from the heart.

A lovely friend painted "Four Seasons" which I find really special. I am partial to swirls and find that I doodle in curly patterns.  I love the Aboriginal influence and the vibrant colours. I love that each season has a touch of blue - no season is free from sad thoughts - but that the blue quadrant is alive and not at all depressing. The transitioning and blending of colours is what I find really striking; there is so much flow it is like it is a static image of movement.

A relative of a friend painted this mural and I love it. I am partial to yellow and I love the contrast with the "architecture" in the background and the blandness of the path in the foreground. I love the splash of colour and life in an otherwise drab and dull suburbia. I love the spontaneity and cheekiness of it. I don't see it as vandalism (whereas tagging totally is).

I love graffiti art - tagging is nothing but there's something about street art that really appeals to me.  If I had a brick wall I would encourage someone to decorate it in this fashion for me. Hell, if I had the money, I would even pay them to do so.

When I have a bar I would like to have someone decorate a wall of it on a regular basis so the vista always changes.

Strike it up

I am a people-watcher. I love going out and witnessing the goings on of other people. I am interested in the way people interact and the conversations they have. I watch was people chat to randoms and try to pick them up and I am amazed by the things that work. I have seen a guy pick up a girl in under ten minutes by striking up a conversation about their Samsung Galaxy mobile phones. She was outta there and into his car faster than he could make a joke about the pitfalls of iOS7. I've seen men score a pash just by grabbing a girl's hand and spinning her around on the dancefloor. I have seen a man succeed with a woman by tucking her bra strap into her dress. Another held out his hand for a girl to safely navigate some stairs and scored.

It is amazing what a little respect, a smile and a well worded compliment can do. I have seen strong, capable women melt faster than jelly on a hotplate when a man delivers a compliment. My advice here is to be specific. None of this "you have nice tits" crap. There's no class in that! But a compliment about her outfit, a piece of jewellery or her hairstyle is generally a sure-fire way to get a response.

I came across an article recently. I'd like to point out one sentence in particular and, pay attention, because it is an important one:
"Gentlemen, grinding, pinching, ogling, wolf-whistling, groping, grabbing or phwoar-ing do not count as conversation or communication."

Then there's this gem which encourages those men who are less bold to take up yoga as a way to find women. Let me tell you; boys who take up yoga as a means of meeting women are blatantly obvious. Men, if you actually like yoga and are going for yourself then by all means attend every session you want to BUT if you are, like Mr Green suggests, attending as a way in: do not. You will look like a fool. Besides, no woman I know wants to be chatted up when they are trying to perfect their downward facing dog or trialing a new version of the sun salute. Yoga is a place for relaxation and peace. Do not disturb that with your overt perving as you are likely to end up in a tangled mess on the floor while your object of affection is practicing her triangle pose.

Also, I know many women fall for it but negging should not be a thing. Keep it above board boys. There is no need to fuel deep seated insecurities in order to cop a feel.

Jordan Frinspiration

Today's dose of Frinspiration comes from my most beloved sport stars. I am not a sports person. I like to  play it but I don't like to watch it. There is one exception - basketball. I love to watch the pros soar around the court. No one flies like MJ though!

I've missed more than 9000 shots in my career.

I've lost almost 300 games.

Twenty six times I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed.

I've failed over and over and over again in my life.

And that is why I succeed - Michael Jordan

This is who I am

I have spent the last eighteen months or so working out what I like and, in the process, found a plethora of things I don't like. It is important to try new things, to expand your horizons and learn in the process. I have spent the majority of my adult life listening to others and doing things I did not want to in order to get them to like me, hoping it would make them love me. Turns out that didn't work so well.

So, I have taken this opportunity to turn that shit around. At the start I floundered. I truly struggled to know what I liked. I found making decisions really difficult (I still do when I am tired or unwell). I would deliberate for weeks over the smallest things. Initially I worried about what people thought of me; fearing they would judge me for the choices I made. I consistently reminded myself of the fact that I wanted to please myself not others. I am all I have. If I am not happy then life is going to suck even more. So I persisted. I went through a process of trial and error. I now know what I like and what I don't. I know what I want. I know what I will not tolerate. I am defining boundaries. I am working on creating a life that I am proud of.

This is me. Unashamed. Uncensored. Unapologetic.

I love my children more than I ever thought possible and will always put them first. I like cut flowers. I insist on a clean house. I believe leggings should not be worn as outerwear unless you are at the gym. I like to be cuddled to sleep and prefer to sleep naked. To say I enjoy dancing is the biggest understatement ever. I am thankful for my small group of friends. I speak the truth so withhold information rather than lie. I love wholeheartedly. I don't like biscuits. I prefer dessert to mains. I use exercise as a means of coping with the fucked upedness of my life. I like wearing heels. I swear. A lot! I am happiest snuggled up with my children but really want to share my life with someone.

I think Ryan Reynolds is hot even though I don't rate him as an actor. I love smart men. I have a thing for belts, scarves and necklaces. I abhor violence. I do not enjoy gardening. I actually really do love my family and enjoy spending time with them. I give more than I should. I love the simple pleasures - walking hand in hand, kisses, hugs and homemade food. My sister is my best friend. I love dresses but am happiest in a pair of jeans.

I love Batman (and Hugh Jackman as Wolverine). I will leave the house without makeup on. In a pickle I can be showered, made up and dressed in about 15 minutes. I don't always match my handbag to my outfit. I cannot wear bold lipsticks because I am too uncouth and it ends up everywhere and I cannot style my hair.

The best 15 minutes of my week is generally the meditation at the end of my yoga class. I wear perfume because it makes me happy and choose the scent based on my mood. I love to sing even though I have no talent. I am high maintenance. I still don't understand girls - the games they play; the backstabbing; the bitchiness; the competitiveness; their love of horses. I prefer the company of men. I love being massaged and having my hair stroked. I love birthdays; Christmas and fairy lights. I don't enjoy classical music and find ballet boring. I don't watch TV. I love a man in a crisp white shirt. I should have studied physics. I prefer action movies to rom coms but I still believe in love. I hate racism and homophobia. Oh, and mirrors; I hate mirrors! I quite like facial hair but hate moustaches. I am almost always cold. I hate secrets and abhor lying. I am a morning person. I prefer blue to pink. I am animated and passionate and, according to other people, this makes me intimidating. Breakfast is my favourite meal. I prefer having the lights off at night.

I can only attract drunk, old or desperate men and once men get to know me they generally lose interest. I can chat for hours unless I am with someone I am attracted to in which case I am too scared to say much. People generally think I am a bitch when they first meet me and misconstrue a lot of what I say.

I am playful and energetic. I am dedicated and loyal. I find it hard to contain my excitement a lot of the time. I actually quite like my job. I am boring and hobby-less. I use avoidance mechanisms rather than face my issues. I think nail polish is funny and wear it in a mocking fashion. I don't drink enough water and predict the great undiagnosed illness of 2009 will kill me within five years.

I love vodka and sweet fruity cocktails. I do not like tequila and it does not like me. We agree not to be friends.

I hate carpet and trinkets. I am comforted by the smell of second hand cigarettes even though it makes me want to vomit. I miss my Dyson. I would probably still work if I won lotto. I could live on banana, avocado and chocolate milk; though not together. I love movies. I struggle to sit still. I like driving in the rain but I want other people off my roads. I eat too quickly when I am hungry and always feel ill so prefer to snack often than to have three meals a day.

I actually like spiders (with the exception of tarantulas) and consider the daddy long legs (not technically a spider, I know) my roommates. I love to watch crabs on the beach. I think there's nothing more soothing than seeing a sleeping baby; maybe because mine so rarely did.

My favourite is vanilla ice cream, but only when made with real vanilla beans. I wish I could speak a second language and play a musical instrument.

My dream is to own a bar and dance every fucking night.

Blooming beautiful

 I love freshly cut flowers.  They are a spark of colour and fragrance in an otherwise pretty bland life. My favourite is to have fresh flowers in the bathroom. I love the contrast with the white bench and harsh surfaces. I find it refreshing and cheerful.

I love the way I feel when there are flowers in the house. There is much scientific evidence to support me.

I am lucky that my mum is a master gardener and loves to share her bounty. My house is regularly filled with gorgeous flowers that cheer me up every time I see them.

I think, because flowers are a frivolous expense, there is a sense of worth associated with them that doesn't come with other gifts. To be honest, though, I prefer flowers with fragrance and commercially grown blooms generally don't offer that.

Sexiness

I love men. I love their energy. I love the way they behave. I love their arms (especially if they have the bicep bulge when their arms are relaxed - grrrr). I love their cute arses. I love the way they walk and how they stand. However, I find very few men sexy. I can appreciate fine form (I am thinking Ryan Gosling, Robert Downey Jr or Bradley Cooper but I don't find these men sexy). For me sexiness is more than classical good looks. For example, I find Eminem sexy but he really shouldn't be, if you know what I mean. He always looks under the influence of illicit substances and makes bad hair choices but he turns me on. So. Fricken. Much.

There is even a man that oozes sex appeal despite being classically unattractive.

Like I said, there is a distinct shortage of sexy men. Come on Melbourne - crank it up. Put in a bit of effort! Australian men, I have decided, think too highly of themselves and, as a woman, I am partly to blame. While I honestly don't care what men wear and think a guy in jeans and a tshirt can be quite sexy there is a time and a place to put in a bit of effort.

I am raising the call - men of Melbourne you need to step up. Put in some effort. Grab a shirt (that fits - nothing is less attractive than bulging buttons) and pull out the iron. Ditch the arsehole act and show some respect. Grab your lady by the hand and dance with her. Look her in the eye. Smile. Pay attention to her. Stop looking for the next upgrade when you are out with a woman - it is poor form. If you must travel that path, stick with going out with the guys.

I've spent countless hours people watching. I know all the tricks - "the line at the bar was terrible", "I was in the loo", "I was chatting to someone while I had a smoke". If you are out with a girl, be present. Treat her like she deserves. She's not just a vagina.

And women - don't tolerate the bullshit. Call him on it. There's no need to turn into bitch features or ruin the night with outrageous demands but do set some (reasonable) boundaries and stick to them. Most of all, though, have fun. Wear comfortable shoes so you don't end up spending half the night complaining. Smile. Make an effort -  line up at the bar occasionally so your man can enjoy his night too. Pay for at least one round if that's the kind of night you are having. The road travels both ways so show your man some respect. Don't dance sluttily in an attempt to make him jealous, you are likely to either enrage him or turn him off. Either way, you lose. If he's not a dancer suck it up and spend time with him (though if he dismisses you and sends you on your way so he can talk to his pals and flirt with other women run. Run away and don't go back. He doesn't deserve you).

Capable

I met a girlfriend for iced chocolate on Lygon Street last night. It was a gorgeous Melbourne evening with a lovely warm breeze. The motorbikes (complete with douchebag riders) were out in force rumbling along the street and making my chest vibrate in the way only a Harley can.

As we ended the evening I walked my friend to her car and was very thankful to realise that I am fully capable and confudent to walk the streets by myself.

Good morning sunshine

I have a lovely friend at work who sends me a "Good morning sunshine" message most weekdays. He probably does not realise but his small gesture can turn my day around. I am lucky to have some truly beautiful people in my life and I consider myself very blessed to have them as friends.

I have been told that I am not a people person and that I lack skills required to deal with people. I do find it difficult to make friends. I can be guarded and someone recently pointed out that I am very animated which tends to put people off.

I am, however, thankful for the limited number of friends I do have as each of them is truly special.

It's a new day

Each day that the sun rises is another chance to fix my fucked up life. Try, try, try again

Glitter in the air

I have always wanted to throw glitter in the air. Yesterday I did just that. My babies and I threw handfuls of glitter in the air and danced as the colours rained down. My sister acted as photographer and my garden is now covered in sparkles!

Gollum

I think Gollum is one of my favourite characters.  Ever.  He is torn between his love of the ring and his desire to be free of it. His internal struggle affects his physical state and his mental health. I think he's a wonderful portrayal of someone that's in constant internal turmoil.

Freezer bread

I've decided I am freezer bread. Passable only if you're desperate or drunk but not for everyday consumption

Pets

I know there are many people who find pets therapeutic. I am not one of them.

I am house sitting for my aunt while she's overseas. Her cat gives me terrible allergies and the door has to be open for the dog which means that the wind whips through the house and it is freezing. I'm not a fan of stinky stuff and all pet food has a stench. The dog is unwell and on medication so I stress when I am not here in case something happens.

I don't understand how so much extra work brings people joy. It's just not for me. Not one little bit.

Why I write

The exceptional Kate Wilson sums it up beautifully "I write to explain myself to myself"

Beautiful messes

My children are divine, independent, opinionated people. But that means they are also stubborn, outspoken people which clashes with my stubborn opinionated independence at times. I am wracked with guilt that my worst traits have been passed on. There are times when I understand why people don't have children. They are like mirrors into me and what shines back at me is often very unattractive.

There are other times when my children are positively perfect in every way. Yesterday we took a friend's daughter to hospital with severe abdominal pain. My children were considerate and helpful as I carried her down three flights of stairs and into the car. They were patient and quiet as we waited a full hour in emergency. The listened attentively whole the doctor asked a plethora of questions. They were hospitable when we brought my friend's son home with us for the night so my friend could concentrate on her sick daughter. They were gracious when his grandmother came to pick him up this morning.

My fears that I have totally fucked up their lives are softened when something like this happens for it is very defining to see how people react in times of uncertainty. My children may end up like me as beautiful messes but I am confident that their beauty (inside and out) will outshine their messes so they are a step ahead of me. That's all a parent can ask for.

A true friend

Today I was at a friends house when her daughter fell ill. Suspected appendicitis turned out to be a virus but I was so glad to be able to help her out. While I thought nothing of carrying her daughter down three flights of stairs and into the car or sitting with her head on my lap while her mum had lunch she (and her mum) clearly thought I had done something extraordinary. The kids and I took her brother home with us for dinner and to stay the night.

I didn't think twice about doing what I did but I am deeply touched by the heartfelt thanks and sincere compliments. I feel blessed to have such a wonderful friend. I choose to dedicate more time to those people that appreciate what I do in preference to those who don't think about me unless I am directly in front of them.

Frinspiration

Today's dose of Frinspiration is brought to you by Alan Watts

"It's better to have a short life that is full of what you like doing

than a long life spent in a miserable way"

Here I stand

Today I stood up for myself. Against someone I utterly adore. I am still shaking. I feel like I could vomit but I have been down the road of letting go of what I believe in for someone I love and it ended in disaster.

I may not be running ahead but I am moving forward and, right now, I'm okay with that.

I love it when it is all too much

Today my gym buddy cancelled on me. Again. Instead of mope about I decided to take advantage of the mild weather and install the key lock I bought last week. To do so I had to steal power from inside so jigged up an extension cord through the window and noticed how filthy the windows are. So, once I installed the key lock, I washed the windows (well, the ones I can reach without a ladder (which I do not own). The beauty of it is that I am now sitting at my table, drinking a cup of tea and looking out sparkling windows.  Spring cleaning has come a little late in my house!

I am constantly assessing how much time I have before my next planned activity so I can work out what I can fit in.  I am planning on going to Zumba at 2015. It is now nearing 1900 so I have an hour to enjoy my tea, finish this post, return the drill I borrowed from my brother-in-law, wash the car and drive to gym.

I fill my life with activity so as to dull my mind. While I love being social and getting out I am acutely aware that I am doing so to distract me from the fact that I am deeply discontented with both myself and my life. With every passing minute, my life seems to get further away from where I want it to be.

So I fill every corner of my life. I rush from one task to another. I cram as much into each day as I can. Not for the right reasons though and, no matter how much I 'accomplish' in a day, I am not satisfied. At the core I am unhappy. I am deeply saddened by my life. I am heartbroken that I am without my children. I am ashamed of the choices I have made. I am embarrassed that I cannot get a job. I am hurt that I am unloved. I am shattered that I am a time filler, only seen when people have no other options.

There are times when I can look at my predicament and see light. There are fleeting moments when I feel contented. And I have been blessed to have experienced sheer joy.

However, when I compare myself to other people I realise I am a freak. People have commented that I achieve in a morning than they would do in a whole weekend.  This is how I have always been, to a point. I don't see myself as superhuman or special in any way. I do what needs to be done. So if this means that I do three loads of washing and vacuum before work, that is what I do.

On weekends when I don't have the kids I am probably home for a total of about 6 hours all weekend. I am generally only home to do the inevitable chores that come from living, to shower and change clothes. I will see my parents, sister, cousins and aunt. I will visit friends and go to the gym. I will go out and dance whenever I get the chance.

I believe that life is meant to be lived and I intend to get as much out of it as I can. I was sheltered from the world for over a decade. I have a lot of catching up to do. And I have a lot of work undoing the damage of that time. Two birds. One stone.

Rock on.