Nature therapy

There's a whole school of study (ecotherapy) into the therapeutic benefits of being close to nature. It cleanses the soul. Tonight, after Zumba, I was still feeling depleted do I made a trip to St Kilda to walk along the beach.

I walked and pondered a text I had received from a friend. I listened to the waves and felt the rain on my face. I marveled at the lights of the city and delighted in their twinkling brightness. I breathed in the fresh salty air. I felt my hair blow in the warm autumn breeze. I know that all too soon the warmth will be gone so I wanted to make the most of the glorious night.

I walked a long way; pondering the text in relation to my life. I thought of family and friends; thankful that I have the opportunities I do. As painful as it is that I am not with my children I try to make the most of what I have. I am determined never to repeat my actions of years gone by. If I see an opportunity to do something that might bring me a fleeting moment of happiness I jump on it.

I walked, stepping out my frustration at myself for being such an idiot. I trudged along, loathing the way my mind works; wanting desperately to be more like other people- detached and unfeeling. I want to be able to turn my emotions off and just ride through life.

After hours, I came back to the same conclusion I always do. I can't change the fundamentals of myself. I am who I am. So I sat down and dtafted a response. Drove home, read the response again once tucked up in bed to make sure it accurately portrayed the appropriate sentiment.

The rise of the expert

Craft beers, artisan bread and posh toast, gourmet burgers and sliders, pulled pork rolls, twice cooked duck fat potatoes (my personal fave) and slow cooked everything has seen foodies orgasming as they dine in various eateries. I have no problem with any of these menu items per se. It's just the snobbery with which they emerge. All of a sudden everyone is an expert on delivering the most intense homemade raspberry jam white bread toast. FFS peeps, it is jam on warm crispy bread.

Get in my belly

I love food. Good food. Real food. Food that contains ingredients that are a single word and, generally speaking, direct from the farm gate to the kitchen.

I consider myself lucky to have had a lot of good food recently with one of my favourite people.  While I love good food at any time of the day; I can honestly say that I am in love with brunch. I can be guaranteed an onion and garlic free dish without having to embarrass the company I keep by having to ask the waitress who invariably has to ask the chef.

From the following photos it is clear that I have a penchant for smashed avo. Being my favourite fruit, avocado features heavily in my own cooking - sammiches, pasta and salad are all enhanced with the addition of avocado - and there's no meal you cannot have avo in. Breakfast, lunch or dinner there is always a place for the divine fat-filled fruit.

Smashed avo, feta and lemon at Miss Polly's

Smashed avo with roasted tomatoes at Demitri's Feast

Smashed avo and tomato with basil at Small Town Bakery

Smashed avo with crumbled feta at The Peddler Cafe

Berry pancakes at Red Robyn

Banana ice cream, banana compote and banana rice pudding at Longrain

Twice cooked duck fat potatoes at Romulus and Remus

French toast with Nutella ganache, strawberries, bananas, double cream and hazelnuts at Santucci's

Progress not perfection

I have been working really hard on changing; no, reverting to my former self. I made the horrendous mistake once upon a time to hand myself over to someone else. He took control slowly over any years. Little by little I gave up more and more. Until one day I was unrecognisable to myself. I didn't do any of the things I loved - listen to music, dance, netball, gym, walking, running, going to movies and out to dinner, visiting family and friends and spending time in the sun. I stayed indoors, wore dowdy clothes and was pretty fricking miserable. I ate because I was sad. I would cry for hours on end; rocking myself in the fetal position. I was suicidal. I hated myself. I loathed every fibre of my being.

I tried and tried and tried to change the situation. For years I begged, pleaded, encouraged, supported, guided, shepherded and pushed for change. I resorted to demands and ultimatums. All my efforts were in vain. I threatened to leave. Many times. My sorrow, pure heartache, fell on deaf ears. Until one day when I walked into my parents home after an enormous day at work and Mum offered to make me a cup of tea. That small sign of compassion at my weakest moment flicked a switch for me. I was able to walk away and start again. Start the process of very slowly building myself up again. I stumbled. I fell. I tumbled and tripped. I scraped my knees and landed at the bottom of cliffs. Every time I got up. Every time I picked my sad, sorry, lonely, guilt-ridden soulless self up. I dusted myself off and I tried again.

I used every vice I had to prop me up - alcohol, shopping, exercise. There were times when I would drink so far beyond my capacity in the hope of a few hours painfree. I'm not proud of myself. I made many bad decisions. I terrorised my body and ended up in hospital as a result. But I didn't know how else to get through. I had been taken to the darkest of places and left to rot. And I damn nearly did too. I spent many nights sitting on bridges and tall buildings. There were many times that I fought with my inner demons and only just won.

Some days I would fall more than I stood. Those days gradually got further apart. I very slowly investigated my options and the emotions that they brought up. I read. I wrote. I cried. Oh how I cried. I ran. I ran until my legs burned, my chest heaved and my body was drenched in sweat. I wrote and wrote and wrote. Some of my writings are here. Others have been burnt. Some have been deleted. Others I keep and are just mine.

I have very slowly discovered what matters to me. What I will and will not tolerate. What I want and where I would like to go. I know that life doesn't always go according to plan and that I now have a support network of friend and family that I can rely on. I am happier than I have been since I was a teenager. I have many people to thank for helping me along the way but I am the only one that was there all the time. I have come to realise that, although I didn't do it on my own (like I would ordinarily like to), I was instrumental in my success. I built up my support network slowly and deliberately. Letting go of those people that were toxic and spending more time with those that have back.

I am not where I want to be yet but I am well on the way. There are still times when I come off track. New situations are challenging but I try to maintain my core values to ensure that I never again end up in the pit of despair. There are triggers that see me sliding down there again but I am better at recognising them early and pulling myself back before I fall too far. I  better at asking for help - something I have never done before. I am capable of doing that thanks to the reliable, loving family I have refound.

I can, for the first time on my life, see that I am worthy of people's time, affection and support. I am a good person and I can occasionally see that I add value to the lives of those around me. I am starting to relax more often. I am sleeping in longer stints and napping (sometimes in strange places like the hairdressing salon as I wait for my inevitably late appointment). I am stronger than I have been in a decade and working on bringing my fitness up again. I am far from perfect but I am making progress.

Wrong in all the right ways

I love Pink. In an interview for the release of the greatest hits so far she talks about her "new" boobs. Her quote is thus "Didn't buy 'em. Ate 'em".

Love her!

Oh, puh-lease

Kylie is known for her tight tush. She's 45 and, apparently, she still likes sex. Shock! Horror! Stop the press. Let's make a big deal about a sexy woman who puts effort into her appearance that still likes to do the horizontal mambo.

This kind of shit angers me beyond belief. Honestly, what kind of world do we live in where there is an end date for people enjoying sex? No doubt, her Sexercize video is tacky. But I'd be honoured to have a body like that at 25 let alone 45. 

As a woman, I am enraged with comments such as "women sometimes want to forget their Caesarean scars". FFS, if you've had knee surgery do you need to forget about that to be sexy? It is what it is. If people are so preoccupied with their age and physical appearance that they cannot enjoy a roll in the hay then they are with the wrong partner. When in the throws of passion the last thing you should be thinking about is your "thinkening waist". I believe the right partner will make you feel sexy and desirable regardless of the number on the scales. With their touch, kisses and eye contact they should be able to make you feel like you are the only person in the world when you're in bed, the couch, the floor, up against the wall (or however you like to fuck). 

But seriously, bodies change over time. Gravity takes over as we get older and, yes, as women our bodies change shape as the result of pregnancy, childbirth and breastfeeding. ALL NORMAL. We are humans, not robots. Boobs sag and, sadly, so does everything else. It's not the end of the world though. Those of us over 23 (or whatever the magical number is at which women reach their expiry date for sex) still like sex. Some women have higher sex drives than others. Some find that their libido is like a rollercoaster. Some find it hard to get lubricated as they get older. We're all different. 

I'm sick of hearing this shit about women liking sex. If you're doing it right, most people find it pleasurable. Period. The love of sex is not gender, race or age specific.

Sex? Good. Penises? Good. Love? Good. All three? Fucking unbeatable!

*steps down from soapbox*

The value of love

I'd take love over money. Every day. But I am unwilling to settle for something short of spectacular. I'm far from perfect; I am insecure and tend to get jealous. At the same time I am tolerant, loyal and generous and I put a lot of effort into relationships.

I never make demands but if someone is not prepared to put a little effort in to ensure my happiness then he does not deserve me.

Real woman

I have missed the mark. Again. I have chosen clothes based on what I think men will like. I drink too much too often. I have been neglecting my mind, body and soul. I am so stressed out I find it hard to breathe.

Today I caught up with one of my favourite women. This lady is phenomenal. She's a true professional in the workplace; she is exceptionally talented and has an air of grace about her that is so rare. She is kind, smart, interesting and insightful. In short, she epitomises the qualities of a women that I admire.

I'm changing tack somewhat. I'm ditching the sailor swearing and the short skirts. I am picking up healthy eating and ceasing alcohol. I'm bringing classy back. If I want a gentleman I need to behave like a lady.

Knowing what you need

You'd think that someone of the downhill slide to forty would know better what they need. I keep chasing clouds and catching air. I fill my life with distractions so as to avoid facing the inevitable truth. I need to share my life with someone significant. I crave it. Living without it causes me pain. To avoid the pain I drink too much, eat poorly, don't sleep and focus on the wrong things. I'm chasing a fairytale and I am not a princess.

The things I do

I like to give more than people expect. I like the look on people's faces when I do. I like the way I feel when I do something nice for someone else. I get great joy from seeing the people I love happy, especially if I had a hand in their happiness. 

I know that this comes at a cost though. I miss out all the time. C'est la vie. 

Gentlemen, please

I have posted on various topics surrounding my love of men including sexiness, style and sex appeal. I have a thing for lips, eyes, arms and arses. In that order.  However, one of the most redeeming qualities of a man is gentleness. I'm not after some sappy weakling. Hell no! I like manly men - hairy chests, deep voices, strong arms and a penchant for mechanics. But I am a sucker for a gentleman. Give me manners, good personal hygiene (including soft clean hands), punctuality, stylish dressing and respectful behaviour and I am putty in your hands and, for those that know me, that is no mean feat. I can be a hard arsed biatch! I have more balls than most men so the man for me needs to not only be able to cope with my feisty behaviour but be smart enough to see that I am the way I am out of necessity. I have borne the responsibility of everything for a very long time so I have adapted and adjusted to ensure that the needs of my children are met. I am sure that, with time, I will soften again.

To me, a gentleman is:

• Courteous (yes, please open the door for me; chivalry should not be dead)
• Kind
• Open-minded
• Confident (not arrogant)
• Honest
• Capable of feeling and expressing emotion

There are other qualities that make a gentleman including never kiss and tell, making the first move and respect for a woman's baggage.

Unlike many women, I do not expect a gentleman to offer to pay. While this is sweet and ridiculously flattering I believe it is unnecessary. And, honestly, it makes me quite uncomfortable. Perhaps this is because I don't believe that I am worthy of someone spending their hard earned on me. It is something I am working on accepting. From time to time. 

The power of greatness

Being around truly great people (whether they be family or friends) makes you feel like anything is possible. I choose to dedicate more time and effort into relationships that have a positive influence on my life and steer away from toxic people who, when I am around them, make me feel inferior, insufficient and insignificant.

Self care

I've neglected my mind, body and soul this year. Tonight I started my journey to make amends. I went to the gym after work and did and upper body workout. I had a delicious salad dinner then went back to gym for cardo, legs and Zumba. I drank loads of water. I bought myself a new toothbrush. I applied a hair treatment and face mask and gave myself a manicure. Feeling the love. I watched a movie snuggled under my blanket and tucked myself into bed before midnight.

I'm in a happy place.

Complacency

One of the reasons relationships fail is because people stop trying. Once someone is "theirs" there are no longer daily texts, attempts at seduction or polite 'good morning' and 'goodnight' messages. People are not possessions. You do not own them as you would a car or a handbag.

If you were willing to put in the effort to do certain things at the start of a relationship, continue with them throughout. Start as you intend to finish, as my wise friend says.

Just because they are loyal to you does not mean that they no longer deserve anything less than the time you were willing to commit when you were trying to win them over

Well. Fuck

It would appear that, despite my best intentions of always wanting to help, I just make things worse for people around me.

Sometimes it's hard to find the words to say

I often find it hard to talk to people. I find it hard to find the right words and what I say is often misconstrued. I always have the best of intentions but somehow I keep missing the mark. I am determined to keep trying and I am no longer interested in being censored. Not only with what I say but what I do too. I will always be mindful of others but I am tired; emotionally drained. So I will say what I mean and mean what I say. I will lavish those around me with kindness, generosity and love in all its forms. I will continue to put others ahead of me. These are traits in me that others find infuriating but they make me who I am.

I am overly generous. I always give more than I receive. I go above and beyond. While babysitting for my sister I will clean her house, whether she notices or not. I do not do it for thanks but to be truly helpful. So that when she comes home after a horrendously long day there are no dishes in the sink, no pasta sauce on the bench, no cake crumbs on the kitchen floor. I do it because I WANT to make others lives easier.

I want the people around me to be happy. Happiness is found in fleeting moments. I am going to savour ever single one. So, I will continue to bring little treats for the people I like in the office - a chocolate here, a banana there, a favourite drink, cake - not because I expect anything in return but so when they turn up in the morning there's a little something to make their miserable work day a little brighter. Just because I can.

I looked in the mirror this morning before I walked out the front door, as I always do, and I thought to myself "If people don't want to be around this then that is their loss". And, shocked, I realised I actually believed it.  Thanks be to my beautiful sister and my spectacularly supportive and brutally honest, blunt and intolerant cousin, I know that I am enough. Just as I am.

Move your body to the beat

I have not been dancing much this year. I have been taking stock of my life, reassessing and reprioritising. I do miss it, weekly. But I have other things that are more important to me and life is all about prioritisation.  So, I have to make do with Zumba and dancing in my lounge room to get me through. I still listen to music at work, in the car, while doing the groceries and walking. Music is my sanity saver; my salvation. It cures my ills, heightens my mood or lifts me from the pits of despair.

Happy happy joy joy

Yesterday was my son's 10th birthday.Today is my Dad's birthday. I love celebrations. I love that our family bands together for the important events in life.

The purity of love

I am blessed to be loved by many people - my family and some gorgeous friends. One family friend in particular always makes me feel like a million bucks. His compliments are so sincere and heartfelt that they actually stick. Where I usually brush comments about my appearance or personality away without a second thought when this particular man compliments me I know that he means every word of what he says.

I feel like the luckiest woman in the world to have someone like him in my life.  I am richer, happier and less stressed for knowing this man. He continues to show me that there are good guys out there. He adores his wife and his children, he is a successful businessman and has many hidden talents. I am forever indebted to him (and his lovely wife) for the support, compassion and comfort they provide me. They have opened their home and their hearts to me and I am very thankful.

Fucking shit up

I just can't seem to get anything right. I try so hard to do the right thing; to make people happy; to help out; to make others feel special and to show my love to the people I care about. But I just keep missing the mark. I seem to fuck up at every turn. I'm exhausted by it. After all my efforts I just get thrown to the wolves. I'm tired. I am so fucking emotionally drained.

Vomit brings clarity

I accidentally ate garlic last night. Not much but enough to force me to spend multiple hours on the bathroom floor throwing the contents of my stomach violently into the toilet bowl.

In the sweaty delirium that comes with an allergic reaction I wished for the first time in a long time that I was not alone. Not that anyone could have done anything for me but it was the first time in a year or more that I would have liked to have someone in the house. Just in case. Perhaps for an "Are you okay?" or "Can I get you anything?".

Today my throat hurts from the acid burns, my stomach muscles are aching, I am light headed and I still feel queasy. I know that the after effects will last a few days and I am not looking forward to that but the experience has brought me some clarity and I again refocus on self care. I have booked to have my hair cut and arranged a massage. I will make time to do my nails tonight. Anything to make myself feel better about the loneliness I felt last night.

Most of the time I have no issues with living alone. There are times where I actually really love it; the freedom, the peace, the calm. But nothing soothes the soul like having someone who cares wrap you up in their arms and tell you it's all going to be okay.

Hey sista

I'm increasingly thinking that there's no such thing as love. I love readily. I'm generous and, as a result, I tend to miss out because I give more than I get.

The power of kisses

This is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen

Give the good, withhold the bad

I saw my psychologist this morning. I love the man. He calls me on my bullshit; provides insightful commentary on the workings of my mind and, apart from his kids' college fund, he has no vested interest in me so I am more able to accept compliments from him.

I find it intriguing that we talk non-stop for an hour and there's usually just one thing that I take with me. I fixate. It is one of my many downfalls. I tend to obsess over things. I am now aware of it and try desperately to moderate that part of my psyche.

I know that I am at risk of overpowering people. I am increasingly mindful of that. I probably overcompensate and withdraw but that's probably safer for me than forming unhealthy and non-reciprocal relationships. I am aware that I have a tendency to divulge too much information and I have an incredible skill at pushing people I like away. It's a protective mechanism but it's also a self fulfilling prophecy.

I'm trying desperately to find a balance. To give the good bits and hide or at least underplay the less attractive parts of me.

One of the things my psychologist asked today was a simple question: why wouldn't people want to spend time with me? Apart from my insecurities, which I cannot project onto others, there is no real reason. I need to remind myself of that from time to time to ensure I don't follow the same patterns I have done in the past.

Time is nigh to ensure I maintain my set boundaries and try not to sabotage my own happiness.

Self sabotage

 I have become an expert at self sabotage. It's a harmful and dangerous protective mechanism I employ when something matters to me; when there is something I want. It's a way of preparing for what my fucked up brain sees as inevitable failure and misery. 

It must stop. 

I am naming my shame in the hope that it will help me overcome this terrible habit. It has kept me away from such huge potential happiness. I am desperately trying to let go of my tendencies so that I am open to real, honest and mature relationships that are based on respect. 

I have to keep reminding myself that I am allowed to accept people's generosity. 

I am permitted to enjoy their company. I am worthy of happy times. I am fighting some pretty deep-seated demons but I am determined to win. 

I want to be spoilt. I want people to open doors for me. I want to be lavished with affection. I want to be treated like the lady I am. 

I do not expect anything from anyone and would never put forward demands but I like being treated well. Very much. 

I hereby give myself permission to accept the generosity of others without feeling guilt about it. I will smile until my cheeks hurt and laugh until I feel like I am going to throw up. And I will love every single second of it

Glory in the mundane

Today I had a glorious day. I found happiness by myself. I went for a beautiful walk before sunrise. I came home at lunchtime to hang my washing in the sunshine. I visited friends then did a weight circuit and Zumba. I cleaned my home, gave myself a facial and put on a hair treatment. I watched a movie and drank a gloriously large cup of tea with homemade caramel slice.

Happiness, I hope you are here to stay.

Respect

Matthew McConaughey's acceptance speech at the Golden Globes is rightfully getting praise. It is succinct but thorough. He's witty and brings a personal edge into his response. He's put some thought and preparation into it and I like that. But it's the bit where he talks about his wife, Camila, that struck a chord with me. His words are filled with respect for his partner and her reaction is just beautiful.

I would like that.