Where did you go?

I have been asking myself that question a lot over the last few days.

I used to be a very confident person, at least to the outside world, even if I was having an attack of self doubt on the inside. It was a long road to get to that point where I felt comfortable with myself, and it took a lot of work.

Lately I have done some things, said some things, and felt some things that are very outside what is normal for me. I am the type of person who does not really care if someone likes me or not. I can't say I do not care what people think of me, because we all do that, even the most confident of people, but it did not consume me. I was the type to feel that you either liked me, or you didn't, and that was that. I did not lose any sleep over it. I am not exactly lacking in the friends department. That might sound a little arrogant, but what I mean is, I know I had people in my life who cared about me, I had people who I mattered to, and I was happy with that. I was not out there trying to win any popularity contests, because I had no need to do so. I was secure in myself, my skills and abilities, and my life.

Then everything changed.

It started when I broke my ankle. I was suddenly incapacitated, having to rely on my parents and kids to do everything. I was separated from Jack for over a month because he had to work, so I only saw him briefly at night and on weekends. That was the first time I have been away from him for that long. I lost two people who I thought were really close friends, through no fault of my own I found out later, but I spent a lot of time wondering what I had done to be abandoned so suddenly. I lost one of my best friends, which WAS my fault, but luckily I got her back a year ago.

Not long after I got back on my feet, Jack got hurt, and our entire life changed. Nothing was secure anymore, we started struggling really bad, and we were not that well off to start with.

Then I found out my Dad had cancer, and a few months later he was gone.

So basically, in the span of a year and a half, my entire world was turned on it's ear, and nothing was the same. The constant worry, sadness, fear,and struggling got to me. I started to lose myself. I did not realize it at first. I was depressed, which was not a surprise, given everything that was going on, but it got really bad. To be honest I am still struggling with depression, but it is better.

I started doubting myself. Take cooking for example. I am an excellent cook. I love to cook. Nothing made me happier than to see my family or friends sit around and eat the food I prepared, and watch them enjoy it. Once I started to lose myself, however, I started to doubt everything, and I even doubted my cooking. I started making rookie mistakes. I burned things. I over or under seasoned everything. Suddenly the simplest of dishes seemed to take more effort than I had to give. I stopped wanting to cook at all.

I am an obsessive vacuumer. ( I know that is not a word, but whatever. ) I ran the vac every day, sometimes twice a day. I started running the vac every other day, then a couple of times a week, then once a week if I was lucky. I know that seems like something small, but it signifies a lot as to my general state of mind.I only washed clothes when we pretty much had nothing to wear, instead of staying on top of it like I usually do.

All the small things that made me who I am as a person started to fade away, and I did not even see it until recently.

The biggest change came in the way I related to other people. I started letting others dictate my self worth, and I don't care how awesome you are, when you do that, you are going to come up short. There is always someone out there who delights in making you doubt yourself. There is always someone out there who is quick to judge, even if they are the last people who should be judging anyone.

I recently watched the movie Mean Girls for the first time, and that is kind of when I started noticing things. I was feeling a lot like Lindsay  Lohan's character when she first got to school. Trying to integrate myself into an already established clique. Suspecting, and then knowing they looked down on her, talked about her. Just trying to find somewhere to fit in. I started becoming very needy and clingy. I took everything personally. I posted these dramatic things online, seeking attention. ( I did not realize that then, I realize that now. ) The only attention I got was bad. People started looking down on me, and saying snarky, unkind things. Backhanded compliments. People blasting me for my actions, then turning around and doing the same thing. THEIR actions was the first wake up. Although it was not done to help me, and in fact it might not have even been towards me, but in the end it did help, because I realized how they were being, and I have NO desire to be that person. No one should ever be one of the Mean Girls. I do not even like that type of person, so why would I want to BE that type of person? I am not a mean girl. Nor am I that girl trying to fit in.

Tonight I posted a joking status about how one of my biggest fears is to cook for other people's children. The person closest to me in the world posted a comment to build me up and tell me I was amazing and not to let some kid dictate the worth of my cooking. I sat here, blinking at the screen for a few minutes, trying to figure out why she posted that. I responded that I know I was an awesome cook, it's just that kids are picky and I was worried that Alex's friend would turn her nose up at dinner. ( She didn't, in fact she asked for more and told me I should tell her Mom how to make it, it was so good. ) Since I was talking to that person privately, I asked her "Do I come across as THAT damn insecure?" Her answer was "Yes, yes you do."

There was the REAL wake up call. This person knows me better than I know myself, even better than Jack, and if SHE saw me as insecure, knowing me backwards and forwards, knowing that I am usually a confident person,  then obviously I had become insecure and not my usual self. That pretty much confirmed what I have been mulling over for a few weeks now. I had lost myself, and become something I never wanted to be again.

Last night, I was talking with a friend of mine, named Ravi. She is a local Slam Poet, and she shared one of her poems/lyrics with me, and it hit me really hard, and I asked for permission to share them, since she has not posted her stuff in a public place yet. She gave me the go ahead and I posted it on my Facebook and I made a little graphic with the lyrics on it. ( You can also scroll down to the footer of this post and see it there in a larger version. )

(Click to enlarge)

I may be down, but I am not out. I am not weak. I would not be here today if I were weak, it takes a strong person to survive the life I have had. There is always going to be people out there who don't understand me, or even like me. There is always going to be people out there who want to run off at the mouth and think they are superior. There is always going to be someone walking away from me.

The secret is....those people do not matter.

Wasting my time and energy on chasing down people who might not want much, if anything, to do with me is an effort in futility. Letting ANYONE else dictate my self worth is a mistake. The people who are supposed to be in my life will be there WILLINGLY.  The last two years have become a part of me and my life story, but they do not DEFINE me. Times are hard, but being myself is what is going to make sure I get through it. The person I was trying to become sure as hell could not handle it. Just because I get a little lonely sometimes does not mean I have to go chasing down the wrong people to fill the void. A void that is not even created out of actually being alone. I am never alone. I am surrounded by people who HONESTLY care about me.The void is from feeling like I am alone in my struggle. Everything adds up, and keeps getting piled on, and it is the loneliest thing in the world at times. The truth is I am never alone.

So no more of this needy, clingy, and insecure little girl. I am a strong woman. I already have people in my life who WANT to be there. I do not have to try to be someone I am not to fit in with people or get people to like me. I am not a victim. I am the gatdamn WOLF QUEEN. It is high time I start acting like it again. It  is time to once again learn the lessons that my life long wolf totem is here to teach. I will take back the reins of my life, and stop trying to find other people to validate my existence.

I don't need it.

I can validate myself.

I am me, and that is all I can ever be. Anyone who does not like it can find the door, the unfriend button, or the unlike button.

The Queen is back in the Castle.

YOU...yes you...the person reading these words, are AWESOME. You are the most amazing you that ever was. No one else can never be you. Keep being you, as only you can. Bella loves you.

Like this blog? Like this post? Then please share it using one of the social networking buttons below! I will love you forever!

A different viewpoint....

This is going to be a VERY long one folks, so go on and get a tasty beverage and a snack, you might be here a while.

I am not one of those bloggers who write a lot about current events, or politics, LGBT issues, or even religion. ( Just because I am a bisexual witch does not mean I feel the need to take up the call to educate the masses. I just want to be left alone to be me, there are others out there way more influential, capable, educated, and qualified to teach people about it. I realize that.) All I really have at the end of the day is my opinion, and because I respect people, I tend to keep that to myself, because I have a different outlook on a lot of things than most people do. I am not quick to slam people, or even lift people up, because I understand that everyone looks at things differently, and because I have a wide variety of friends, I think it is better to let a lot of things go then get embroiled in some debate or bitter battle over it. Just because we feel differently about something, does not mean I am going to stop being your friend, or call you stupid, or other names, simply over a difference of opinion, especially if it does not directly affect me. That is just the way I am.

This post is brought about by the whole Paula Deen scandal, and before you roll your eyes or get your dander up, hear me out.

I am not going to write a post rehashing the details of what has happened, or defend or persecute her. I want to talk about something else that is basically a side effect of what has happened with her.

Let me go ahead and get it out of the way and give you a brief statement of where I stand on the whole thing, just so there is no confusion. I will make it quick.

I am not a supporter of Paula Deen.

I think what she did was wrong, although I think her BROTHER is a worse individual, and I in no way condone the things she did, said, or the way she acted. This goes way deeper than her using a racial slur a few times, and I am well aware of that fact.

Having said that, I also think that she is being used as a sacrificial lamb of sorts. I think she is being burned at the stake for a lot of her brother's crimes, and I think that people are trying to force this into a (forgive me) black and white situation, when there are a lot of grey areas that are not being  addressed.

Again, I am not here to debate the right or wrong of what she herself did. I want to talk about everyone else.

But first, a little background:

I was born and raised in North Florida, and I have lived here for my entire life. I was born in 1979, and when I was three years old, we moved from a predominately white county to a predominately black county.

Now a lot of people think Florida is not part of the "South," but where I come from, which is Gadsden  County, anything East of Panama City and North of say Lake City, was simply an extension of South Georgia. I lived about 10 or 15 minutes from the Florida-Georgia line, and there was virtually no distinction between our friends and family a few minutes North of us in Georgia. We sounded the same, we acted the same, we thought the same for the most part.

When I said I moved to a predominately black county, I meant it. White people were ( and are ) the minority in that area. ( I live in a different county now.)  We called my 8th grade year in school " The Year of the White People," not as a racially derogatory thing, but because there was about 30 white kids in school that year, and that was pretty much unheard of. 30 white kids in a 500+ kid school. We were amazed.

I have written before about how I did not have the greatest school experience when it comes to racial issues. I had several black friends ( I mean, let's be honest, there was not much other choice, even if I WERE the type to exclude someone based on skin color...which I am not. ) and even in those 30 white kids, there was a strong clique atmosphere. I was mostly lucky as I rode somewhere in the middle, I was friends with members of all the cliques, mostly because we had  all been friends since we were in Kindergarten and First grade, yet I was not a part OF any of the cliques. I mostly flew under the radar with the white folks. )

The black kids were a whole different story. I did have many black friends, but I had a hell of a lot of black enemies too. These kids were taught to hate white people, we were the ones who had caused all their problems in life. ( Never mind that most of those black kids had way better lives than I did as a kid. ) I had pieces of notebook paper slid over to me, to see if I was " as white a sheet of paper," I had my red hair pulled and snatched by mean little girls, I was cornered often in gym class and in the back hallways, praying that I would not get my ass tore up because when one person fought, 50 other kids joined in. I saw some pretty brutal beat downs in middle school. I was groped against my will by big black guys in the halls and in class. I actually failed P.E. in both 7th and 8th grade ( this was back in the days before P.E. became a mandatory to pass class ) because I started to refuse to dress out, staying in the safety of the bleachers instead of in the middle of a sport ( I hated sports anyways, I was the nerdy reader yet goth girl ) because at least ONE of the gym teachers were not utterly prejudiced ( most were, openly ) so I might have a better shot at not getting a basketball or football to the face, or shoved down to the ground and stomped on, both of which had happened often.

 In shop class in 7th grade, I was whipped with a massive wooden paddle with holes in it by a massive 400 pound, 6 foot 2 black football coach, because of the lies a black girl told on me. I had missed a couple of days of school due to being sick, and we were working on wood joints in shop class. My (white) friend Tim had also missed a couple of days, and on the day we both returned, Coach W. told us to go into the wood room and get the pieces of wood needed to make up the projects we had missed. To the room we went, and the wood I needed was behind the door, and the pieces Tim needed were 30 feet across the room.

So there we were, in opposite corners of a huge room, and this black chick who was in most of my classes that year and hated my guts slung open the heavy steel door, hitting me with it, as I was behind it, and poked her head in the room. I yelled "OW, watch IT," before I saw who it was, and then my blood drained from my face, because I knew trouble was coming, this girl made my life HELL. She looked at me, looked at Tim, ( 30 feet away, still ) and BELLOWED " OOOOH Y'all is KISSING! Ima tell Coach W.!" ( Yeah, that is  how she talked. Sigh. ) She scampers off to go tell Coach and I stayed right where I was, and so did Tim, because we were doing nothing wrong. Coach comes lumbering his ass in there and asks us what happened, and we both told him the truth, we were getting the stuff as we were told to do, we were across the room from each other, and had been the whole time. Well, Coach HATED white people and had no problem telling you so. So he already did not believe us, and it did not help that the girl's friends all backed her up.

He made us come into his office, which had a door but one wall was glass, so he could overlook the shop and sit in his air conditioned office. He was a huge man, and it was hot in the shop, I can't say I blame him. Anyway, everyone was afraid of Coach, even the black kids. He was mean, and brutal, and I have no idea why he even taught because he seemed to hate kids in general. When he took us in the office, we knew we were  in trouble. He asked us what happened one more time, and told us to tell the TRUTH, and we repeated the same story, because it WAS the truth. When we were done, he told us " Well, I don't believe y'all little crackers, and y'all is going to get licks." Now even then, you were supposed to have written permission  to use corporal punishment on a child, and neither of our parents had signed such a thing. We each got 5 licks. Tim went first, and I felt bad, because he was a skinny little thing, and was only wearing thin gym shorts because he has gym next period. I had just come from gym, and I had on my shorts under my jeans, plus, not to be gross, but I was on my moon time and back then I wore two pads, one in front and one in back, to protect my clothing because our classes were so spread out we often did not have time all day to use the restroom. I had a few layers between me and the paddle, but I will not lie, it still hurt. Coach was huge, the paddle was thick and full of holes, and he used a LOT of force. He lifted us both off the ground with the force of his swings. Tim sniveled a bit, trying to be brave, and I did not cry, even though I wanted to, because I was SO PISSED. As I mentioned, the office has a glass wall, and every damn kid in class was lined up in front of that window to watch us get hit. When we got finished and were sent out of the office, the girl who got me in trouble smirked at me, she was happy with herself. ( In case you were wondering, yes I told my parents, yes they flipped out and went to the school and Coach got in trouble. It made my life worse for the next two years. )

Lots of other things happened, but I think you get the point.

Even though I was treated so terribly, I did not call them racial slurs. They called each other that, and they called us "honkys" and "crackers" and things like that. Some of the white kids who had racist parents, and were taught it was okay to call them racial slurs, and some of those who were just fed up in being bullied, called the black kids the  N word and other things. Not all the kids, but some. However, these terms were also used in jest. Black kids would call white kids crackers and the like, joking, and the white kids with black friends called them the N word also in jest.

Now, that was us kids. I have to point out about the older folks too. Now, people of our parents generation tended to use the word with hate, or in a derogatory manner. That generation seemed to be the one that caused a lot of issues, however the next generation, what would be the grandparents generation of us kids, they used the words too, but it was not usually filled with hate. It was descriptive, because in their day and age, that was normal. The N word was interchangeable and usually as innocent as if they used the world black, and the black folks used honky and cracker in the same manner. Now of course, not ALL of them used it in a seemingly innocent manner, but a huge portion of those people did, and I know this because I witnessed it. I have been present for conversations between adults where it was talked about, and I heard from both white and black older adults that this is just the way it was, and that is how they used it still today ( today being 20 years ago or more now. )

I come from poor financial stock. My Dad's family was poor, and had been poor for many generations back. My Mom's side was better off, but not rich by any means ( although they are all mostly filthy rich now, not that we are. ) I have no idea if we had slaves way back in the day, but I know that if we DID, it was MANY generations back, because the last several generations  were dirt poor and about the same in class as the slaves were at the time. I do not say that lightly, or think that white ( or Indian in my Dad's case ) were treated exactly the same or as poorly as slaves were, not at all. I am just saying that we were not much higher on the totem pole, to use a common phrase from my childhood.

To tie this back to Paula for a moment, she came from the deep south, in a time where those words were normal, and not always derogatory. She came from a time where those words were used as a description just as calling me redheaded is now. I have NO clue of her intent when she said what she did,or did the things she did. What I DO know is that not everyone who uses those words, then or NOW, mean  them in a terrible way. I know black and white people, TODAY, that use those words, and they do not use them in the "bad way." Does that make it right? Nope. Does that mean I am going to do that, because they say it is okay with them, or because some freaking celebrity said that is what they do? Nope. Have I said things in private, such as repeating a joke, in the past, that used those types of words? Yep. Have I been told ( by black friends ) things in the same manner? Yep. Do I think racism is funny or right? Hell no. Am I perfect, or naive and think that 99% of the population have not, at some point in their lives, uses a racial slur, either in a derogatory fashion, or in a joking manner where no one involved got offended? Not even close.

I do not even hold hatred in my heart against Coach or the girl who got me in trouble anymore. I do not think they should lose everything they own because of what they did. Does it make it okay, what they did? Not in the least. But holding a witch hunt will not accomplish anything other than making me just as bad as they were.

Here is where folks will balk at my words.

If I were being abused at work, a place I worked at WILLINGLY, and I chose to REMAIN in that environment, then it is just as much MY fault for being in that situation as it is for the employer to treat the employee in such a manner. Now I understand that these people need their jobs. They have to survive, feed their families. I am NOT condoning the actions of the employer. But these were not slaves. These were free citizens. They did not have to keep being treated that way. While I know it was a different world back then, there were still things to be done to stop or bring to light that type of behavior.

I worked for the Dept. of Education at one time ( well, twice, this was the first time ) in my life, and one morning, I go in to work and a co-worker calls me over and wants me to look at a video online. It was a video of two college girls filming themselves having sexual relations with their very large German Shepard. When I saw what it was I said "EWWWW that is SICK," and then I walked away and went to my desk and started my work day. Was I grossed out? Uh, yeah. Was I offended? No. I walked away. I was not forced to watch. Do I think it was inappropriate? Sure, it was a work place, (before work hours though, and there was no ban on what we could watch outside of work hours..) but as it in NO way affected me I did not feel I needed to go and tell someone.That may be wrong to some, but that is how I felt. I did not feel demeaned or unsafe or feel like my work place was a hostile environment, but if I HAD, then I would have taken the appropriate steps to rectify the situation. To bring it back to Paula for a bit, the second time I was told I would be paid in beer, or told I had to use a particular bathroom because of the color of my skin, you can bet your ass that I would have STOPPED WORKING THERE, and contacted the appropriate people and hopefully got something done about it THEN...not 20 years later when someone else says something first. I would not have STAYED and kept not being paid, or if I was being told things or treated in a manner that made me upset or uncomfy, I would have beat a path out of there.

Before you all think I am heartless or stupid, or siding with the employers, I am not, I swear. I am fully aware of the competition for work, I am fully aware of the line between staying and putting up with abuse and having my kids go hungry or be homeless. I am fully aware of the rampant discrimination of that time period, and chances are that if they had gone to someone, they would not get the results they needed because of how things worked back then. I know all this. What happened to these employees in question is AWFUL. NO ONE should have to work in those conditions. I do not think that it is, in ANY WAY, the employee's fault that this happened. However, I feel that one of Paula's biggest crimes is TURNING A BLIND EYE while her brother treated these people like trash. I do not feel that Paula should be the one up there losing everything. Should she go unpunished? Of course not! She did things that were very wrong. But I feel people are using her as a scapegoat, first for her brother, whom no one cares about because he was not in the public spotlight as Paula is, and secondly because she is an easy target. We can't seem to prosecute the oh, say, POLITICIANS that the populace keeps electing into office, who do much worse things TO EVERY SINGLE AMERICAN EVERY DAY, but we can do it to an old woman who messed up 20 plus years ago. We can go at each other's throats because of what side of the argument you fall on against a CELEBRITY that WE elevated to star status, because we can't go after those people we really want to go after.

To sum part one up, Paula and ESPECIALLY her brother should NEVER have treated their employees in such a manner, nor said the things they said to their employees. Never. The employees should never have been made to feel they were in a hostile work environment in any way. However, the employees should never have stayed or allowed themselves to be treated in such a way.You can't always control how another person will treat you, but you CAN control how you will allow yourself to be treated. They should have come forward LONG before now.

Which brings me to my next point.

( Told ya it was a long one...I have three points to make, although I admit the one above is not clear cut. The  next two will be.)

Part two is about how we view and treat these "celebrities."

We, as a populace, tend to idolize and admire these people we call celebrities. They are usually gorgeous, talented, and rich people that live the life some of us wish we could have. We hang on to their every word,  we scour the internet for news, we are sad when they pass away, we love it when they do good things, and we friggen slaughter then when they mess up. We take it personal, we are disappointed and let down when someone with so much power ( power that WE gave them, but I will get to that. ) uses it in a way we deem unfit.

Why?

Why do we hold these people to a higher standard than we hold say, elected officials and everyday people we come in contact with? Why do  we treat these people as demi-gods, when they are just NORMAL PEOPLE who happen to have a particular talent that puts them in the public eye and gets them lots of our money. Ah, there it is. Money. We paid OUR money to elevate these NORMAL people into superstar status. Therefore, we think and act like they OWE us something, because we paid for them to do these things, so they MUST be everything we want them to be, right?

Bullshit.

Sure, they may be mega rich and beautiful and talented, but they are still NORMAL people, just like you and  me. They just so happen to have a particular talent that gives them opportunities that we all do not have. Just like you and me, they are just humans, doing what they have to do in this life to survive until it is over. They just happen to be in the public eye and be a little better off financially than most of us. It is very unfair and unrealistic to hold them to some ideal they did not ask for. Just like everyday people, some of them are really wonderful people. They do great things, they go out of their way to do good, they use their money for worthy causes, they spend their time in noble pursuits. They strive to make the world a better place. On the other hand, some of them are total and complete asshats. They are mean, selfish, could care less about the world, and just like so many other NORMAL, UNFAMOUS people, they just want to go to work and be left the hell alone, they could give a shit less about anyone not important to them.

Each and every one of us have this potential, to be good, or bad, to put it simply. Just because these people have a job that rakes in a ton of money and affords them the chance to do things every day people may not get does not change who they are at their core.

I am willing to bet that Paula Deen's brother ( what is his name? Bubba, or  something like that? ) was just as much of an asshat before he got a little bit of money as he is today. I bet MONEY on it, and I am broke as hell. I know it is a safe bet. I bet Angelina Jolie was as close to the same person she is now before she got famous.

There are a ton of celebrities I could name on both sides of the spectrum, but you get my point.

My question is, why do we really act SO shocked and surprised and take it so personally when a famous person does not live up to OUR standards WE impose upon them? Not THEIR standards and expectations for themselves, mind you, but a bunch of strangers who do not know them at all? Why do we think because they have a lot of money and spend a lot of time on camera that they have to be anything other than what THEY want to be? How would you feel if that famous person came to you, and told you that because you did not do XYZ, or because you did ABC that you deserved to have everything you are stripped from you, that you were such a disappointment to them because you did not live up to the expectations of a TOTAL stranger, that you were a terrible person and deserved to have everything taken from you. I hope you would tell them, in whatever way you  feel appropriate, to kiss your ass, that you live by your own standards and by what makes you happy, and that person can get bent, famous or not famous.

Now I am not really talking about Paula on this one, because she did some pretty shady shit, and she has to live with the consequences of her actions. Everyone does. In a perfect world, we would all treat each other with love, respect, and equality, "common" folk and celebrities alike, but this is not a perfect world. We, as a people, have not reached that point yet.

My point is, you should be just as outraged if your neighbor called someone a queen as you are that Alec Baldwin called someone a queen ( AFTER they disrespected his pregnant wife, by the way. Where is everyone slamming that guy and ripping HIM to shreds? ) And maybe you would be, and that is great. That is how it should be. My point is that just because Alec Baldwin is famous does not mean he should be MORE punished and in a much more extreme manner that your neighbor would.

I do not think that it is right for us to feel that just because these people are famous that they are any less human that you and I are, and needs to be held to some more severe standard than everyone else. On the flip side, I also strongly disagree about celebs getting these little slaps on the wrist when they break the law, instead of getting the same punishment that an non famous person would get. They do not deserve to be treated any differently unless their actions indicate they need to be treated differently. Just because someone SEEMS so sweet and nice, does not always indicate who they are as a person, and just because a person seems like a jerk does not mean they are. You do not know them personally.  You have no clue how these people are in "real life.." all you see is what is on a big screen, or on television or the net, where it is some people's JOBS to make these folks look as terrible as possible, because that is what a HUGE chunk of the population wants. They want to see these people's dirty laundry. They LOVE to see celebrities to trip up, to do something "stupid" to show their  HUMANITY! Dirt gets WAY more press than good stuff. Not to mention, half of that stuff is fake anyways, and done simply for ratings or for publicity's sake.

I want to share with you a bit I posted earlier tonight on a social networking friend's page, as I touched on how I feel about the whole thing there:

"Celebrities are doing there JOB. Their job as an actor, a comedian, a TV personality. WE are the ones who elevate them into role model status. THEY are just doing their JOB. Just because WE choose to elevate them to some lofty ideal, does NOT mean THEY are GOOD AND DECENT people. It does NOT mean THEY are actually going to act the way WE think they need to, simply because they are a celeb. They did not sign a contract when they reached celeb status that said " I will always be the perfect and moral ROLE MODEL for you, and I so do solemnly vow to never say a single bad thing about anyone or do anything stupid or wrong, because from this moment on I now renounce the fact I am a HUMAN and I will be the the perfect ROLE MODEL for humanity."

NO! They do not. The problem is, people expect these people who are doing a JOB to be something more than they are because WE choose to elevate them to this status. WE choose to throw our money and support to these people and help make them who they are. I UNDERSTAND why people are disappointed, because as a human being, she, and everyone else should be better, but I fail to see why ANYONE acts all shocked and scandalized. THEY ARE HUMAN. Some humans SUCK. 

I might ADMIRE someone on TV or movies or in the entertainment business, but I have enough sense not to follow them off a cliff if they jumped off too. If I watched her, and then found all this out, NO WAY IN HELL would I start going around and treating people like crap JUST BECAUSE PAULA DID. 

I feel people grossly OVERestimate these celebrity people, and grossly UNDERestimate the intelligence of the population. ( YES I know there are idiots out there, I know. )

For the record, I think what she did was wrong. I am NOT a Deen supporter. She will get what she deserves, it is already happening to her. What happens to her next is honestly up to her. Having said that, I think it is OUR fault, as a SPECIES, that things get to this point because we place soooo much credibility and things onto these people who YOU DON'T KNOW, and most likely DO NOT DESERVE to be put on this pedestal. They are just normal PEOPLE who have a talent, and that talent puts them in the public eye. SHOULD they all be decent people? Yes. ARE they are decent people? Hell no."

That pretty much  sums up how I feel about  that part.

Celebs are just people, like you and I, and they do great things, they make really stupid mistakes, and they do really abhorrent things, just like we are ALL capable of. The fact they are famous has NO bearing on the situation, aside from the fact that they will be going through the consequences in front of an audience of millions,while what we do or do not do might only be known by a few people.

Still with me?  Thanks, I know this is a very long one with a lot going on, but I am ready to get to the final point of the day.

This situation with Paula has brought a lot of strong emotions out in people. Almost everyone has an opinion, usually a strong one, about the whole thing. That is expected. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. What bothers me is watching not only strangers attack strangers on blog posts, news articles, and social media, but FRIENDS calling each other stupid and ignorant, and many other things because of the difference in opinion. I have seen people be attacked, their whole belief system under fire, by people they call friends. Because they are not willing to slam someone, then they get called names, they get their  morals undercut, they get treated harshly, and the same thing happens if you do slam someone.

Call me crazy, but treating someone like shit because they do not feel the same way you do, when the subject is about someone who treated people harshly, sounds a bit...oh, I don't know..hypocritical? Calling people you normally respect ignorant and stupid makes you look pretty crappy yourself, in my opinion. I understand we all have our own opinion, but do we really have to resort to name calling and defamation of character over this? Is this not kind of the pot calling the kettle black, when you resort to similar tactics that the person you are so worked up over used?

Here is a bit I posted in a blog comment on an excellent post by Inciting A Riot earlier, that shares another bit on what I think about it:

"What is just as bad, in a way, is that the people are turning so vicious on each OTHER. One person acts like Deen should be put to death, considering the vehemence she puts forward into ripping Deen apart, and if anyone in ANY way says anything other than also ripping Deen apart, well, then that person just can't deal with you and your stupidity. You must be stupid since you have your own *different* opinion that is not in agreement with hers. If you do not agree then you think shaming and slurs and gay bashing and discrimination and child and animal abuse are all okay! We can't possibly be friends if you don't think Deen is the anti-Christ!

Extreme pot calling the kettle black, much?

On the other side of the spectrum, there is a person ( and I am just using general terms here for he and she ) who is a staunch supporter of Deen, and thinks this is all "hogwash" and a big bunch of sensationalism and sure she should not have done those things but it is really as bad as all this that has happened, normal people do it every day and this does not happen to them...and if you are so against her than you are stupid and wrong and you must be one of those tree hugging hippies who thinks everyone should love everyone and you are an idiot because THAT IS NOT HOW THE REAL WORLD WORKS! We can't possibly be friends because you don't think Deen is being judged to harshly!!"

Same pot, same kettle.

Forgive my bad analogy, but the world is not so black and white. If ONE person ( celebrity ) can be burned at the stake for this, then shouldn't every single person, normal, celeb, politician, whatever, be held to the same exact standards? Does that mean I can go my grocery store manager's house and take his money, take his store, totally destroy him because I heard him call someone a racial slur, or smack a female employee on the ass as she walked by? No? Why not? 

Oh right, because he is not a role model. He is not famous. Yet, I give him a hell of a lot more money since I need food to live than I do Paula. Paula means nothing to me. I have never given her one red cent of my money. Yet my grocery store manager gets an insane amount of money from me every year. Shouldn't I care MORE about what HE said, than Deen said?

"But you can not shop there, since you heard these things."

True, but I am dirt poor and can hardly afford the gas to get to the ONE grocer in my tiny town. I do not have the options to go elsewhere all the time. We all have the option of turning these celebs into what they are. And we can take it away, as we have seen. All they are doing is making Deen a sacrifice, because everyday people can't do this to other everyday people, or the people we elect into office who do SO MUCH WORSE than Paula EVERY DAY. For that reason alone, it bugs me. What she did was wrong, but what is being done to her is not exactly right either. 

The people turning on EACH OTHER is CERTAINLY not right. "

That is what it seems like to me, and based on what I have seen around the net, others feel similar to the way I do. ( And of course there are those that think everything I have said here today is wrong. I am aware of this.)

Now I realize I am not the smartest person out there, but it does not take a genius to feel and see that this is wrong. No one is going to get their point across by using these tactics, unless their point is to prove what a jerk they are being. Being a jerk in the name of advocacy makes you no less of a jerk. It undermines the message you are trying to get across, and when an influential person uses these methods, you really become hypocritical. I could go on about people parroting these influential people, acting just like them and speaking as they are, and trying to emulate them instead of being their own unique person with their own unique voice, even if the message is the same, instead of a carbon copy of people who might not even really deserve to be emulated, but that is a whole different blog post, and another novel length one to boot. It also ties in with celebrities, and our fascination with them, and the fact that we really do not know them well enough to be acting like them or repeating their message without doing our own legwork first.

I just feel it is counterproductive to tear into each other and treat people badly while arguing about how a celebrity mistreated people. That seems a bit ironic to me.

Arguing about a person who has mistreated others while bashing the people you are talking with is not the way to go about it, and it makes you look ridiculous. It makes people lose respect for you, and for some it is tarnishing their carefully crafted image. Since some people polish their image to reflect what is really inside...you are losing the credibility and the things that  made people look up to you in the first place.

Just like Paula Deen.

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Thoughts on loving and being loved...Part Two...The Back Story...

If you missed Part One...click HERE to check it out. Post will open in a new window.)

I didn't know how to love, or be loved.

Those nine words defined such a huge part of my life. I made so many stupid choices, did so many risky and stupid things, all because I had no clue how to love, or be loved.

It started at home, when broken parents tried to do the best they could...but had no model of healthy love to draw from. They had nothing to emulate. From the time I was about 8 or so...until well into my relationship with Jack, I was chasing love. I was running in all the wrong directions, to all the wrong people, in all the wrong places. Jack changed me, right from the start, but it was a slow process.

I was beat down, physically, mentally, emotionally. Jack was the one who drug me out of my "shell" so to speak. The outspoken, take no shit, give as good as I get person that I am now used to not exist. My Father did not like emotions. He discouraged them. The only one he ever showed was anger, at that time in his life. He was a deep thinker, very analytic, and he taught me to be the same. However, it was not until AFTER Jack helped me to get rid of all the bullshit I had piled on me that I discovered just how alike my Father and I were.

When Jack and I met, I was a very timid person. From a very early age I was told " Children are to be seen, and not heard," and that carried over into my adult life. I acted out, did stupid things, because I felt I had no voice to speak with. I had to gain attention through actions, and the good things never gained me much of anything, only the bad things had any long lasting effect. In my first two long term relationships I was physically, mentally, and emotionally abused. I was hit, I was talked down to, I was treated terrible, and I allowed it, because I was taught that this is normal. My model of marriage was my parents, and while as far as I know my Father never hit my Mother, he was very emotionally and mentally abusive when I was young. I thought this is what marriage was. That it was okay to be treated that way, because that is what I thought I deserved. My Mother allowed us to be treated this way. Due to her past, maybe she thought that the way my Dad was was how it was supposed to be. I do not know. I have never felt comfortable enough to ask her.

One of the strongest memories I have is one night when I was 6 or 7...my Dad and my Uncle were going fishing, and my Dad was pissed off because he could not find something, and he just went off on my Mom. It was bad. He left to go fishing, and I was reading a book that had craft ideas in it, and I looked up at my Mom to tell her about something in the book...and she was staring off into space, tears rolling down her cheeks. It was the first time I ever remember seeing her cry. I did not say anything, I just looked back down at my book and kept quiet. I remember being so angry at my Dad, for making her cry. I was angry that he was such an ass ALL the time. I felt that he made our lives miserable. A few years later, there was another terrible fight and Dad said he was leaving. He and Mom were going to split up. I remember telling my Mom about all of these things we could sell for money, so we would not be without. My Mom looked at me and said " You know if he leaves, you will probably never see him  again.." ( When he split with his ex wife, the mother of my half siblings, he did not spend much time with them until they were adults. ) My response was, "Good." ( For the record, they never did split up, they were married until my Dad died last June..)

Back to Jack. I was 24 years old, and living with a man 20 years older than me that I did not care about. He was an alcoholic, and while he did not "abuse" me, he ignored me and I was basically there to help him pay bills, including child support for his youngest child. I met Jack while working at a gas station. He was a mechanic in the shop a few doors down,  and he would come in several times a day. I did not really care for him when we first met. I thought he was arrogant and thought he was all that and a bag of chips. He walked around like he owned the world. He would be slightly flirtatious with me when he came in the store. Not too much though, as he had a girlfriend and I had the guy I was with, who also worked at the store with me. One afternoon, I was standing outside on a smoke break when he came in, and as he left he was griping about his girlfriend, and we talked for a few minutes. We actually had a nice conversation, and he was reluctant to leave, and said " Well, I guess I need to get back to the house and my old lady.." I looked him square in the eye ( which  was unusual, I very seldom did that ) and as I flicked my cig away I said " Your 'old lady' is not my problem.." and walked inside. He sat in the parking lot and started at me through the window for about 5 minutes before he left.

After that he started coming in the store 5 and 6 times a day when I was working, and my boss, whom I was friends with, said if he came in and saw I was not working, he would not come back that day. I shrugged it off, I thought he was an ass and did not really give him much thought. A few weeks later, I was hanging around the store, even though it was my day off, because I had nothing else to do, and the guy I was seeing was working that day. I was sitting at a table, reading the newspaper, and Jack walked in, talking on his cell. I glanced up and then back down at my paper, and the next thing I know he had slid in the seat across from me and leaned  over the table and  gave me a hug...still on  the phone. I just sat there, stunned, and I did not return the hug. I went back to my paper and he sat there talking on the phone. Once he was finished, he started talking to me as if we had been close friends for years. We ended up going outside and talking in the parking lot for the next three hours. Later that afternoon, he surprised me by asking me if I wanted to go for a ride. I surprised myself by saying yes. He followed me back to my house so I could drop off my car, and I jumped in his truck and off we went. He took me to meet his parents....'

Yeah. His parents.

We talked at his place for hours, and I was reluctant to go home. But home I went and went to bed. I ended up going to my store the next morning, telling the guy I was with that I wanted a Pop Tart ( which I do no even eat ) and I would be back later. I went and bought a nasty Pop Tart and used the store phone to call Jack, and he came up to the store before work and hung out with me for a little while. We ended up seeing each other that afternoon for a little while, and it was even harder to leave him. I explained my current relationship to him ( he had broken up with his girl weeks before all this ) and how I was there because I felt I had no place to go. We had not been intimate in months, and he ignored me 95% of the time unless he needed a ride somewhere ( he had no vehicle or a license ) or unless he was holding his hand out for my paycheck for bills and to pay his child support. I did not care for him, and did not want to be with him, but I felt trapped. Jack tried to get me to spend the night with him, but I told him no, and I went home shortly after that.

I did not see him the next day; I was off work, and I felt guilty, even though I no longer wanted to be  in my current relationship, ( and  I use the world "relationship" very loosely ) nor had I done anything to be guilty of, other than hang out with a new friend who was a guy. Nothing intimate had happened other than a goodbye hug. The next morning, I woke up at like 8 am ( which was not the norm, I worked nights so I slept until 2 pm most days ) and something told me to get dressed and go outside. I pulled on a pair of shorts with the shirt I slept in and grabbed my smokes and wandered outside....passing by the guy I lived with, who was already drinking at 8 in the morning...and leaned up against the back of my car, closing  my eyes against the bright sun, having a smoke and wondering what in the hell I was doing up and outside that time of day, as I had to work that night.

About five minutes later, my question was answered. Jack came screeching into my driveway and came to a stop a mere 6 inches from pinning me between his truck and my car. The odd part is, I never flinched, or got scared. I knew I was safe. He came out of the truck...long hair ( at the time ) flying, no shirt, tight jeans with holes in the knees on...looking wild and slightly crazed.

I kept my face neutral and asked him what in the hell was he doing here so early, looking all crazy. He told me that he was unable to get me off his mind, and he did not want to spend another moment without me, and I could either go in there and tell the dude I lived with that I was leaving, or he would just put me in the truck and leave, he could figure it out later. I smirked and asked him did he really want to start our relationship off with a kidnapping?  He just raised an eyebrow at me..with a look that said "If I have to.."

I laughed  and we talked for a  few more minutes. I know most of you are probably thinking "WHY are you talking to the crazy person?!" I have to tell you, it is strange, but I have never felt so safe. I knew he was not going to hurt me. I finally told him to wait outside, I had to go get some clothes on and I would be back. I went in, got dressed, and grabbed my work shirt and told the guy I was living with that I was leaving. He asked when I would be coming back, and  I said that I was not sure. Instead of being concerned, or suspicious, the only other thing he said to me was: " You ARE going to work tonight, right?" I said yes and walked out the door, got into Jack's truck, and we left. I went to work that night, and my now ex came up there and brought me my car, and asked for his house key back. I guess it finally sunk in what I had done. I made arrangements to get the rest of my stuff the next day, and I never went back after that. I slept on Jack's couch for a week, I refused to sleep in the bed with him. When we finally did get intimate, I got pregnant with Alex our first time. He was thrilled. I was terrified. We have been together ever since.

Jack and I, with a 3 month old Alex.( 8 and a half years ago )  Jack had dyed his brown hair blonde. Now he has no hair lol. ( Not related to the dying LOL.) Yes, Alex was tiny. She was a 28 week preemie for those who are new here :)

I have never regretted my decision. It has been just over nine years. We are each others longest relationship.

It took him a few years to get me straightened out, so to speak. He taught me to love myself, something that had seriously been lacking in my life. He taught me to stand up for myself. He taught me that I was worth something. He taught me that I was valid. He taught me that I was a product of my environment, and that I was no longer that scared, lonely little girl.

He taught me that I deserved to be loved.

He taught me what love was.

We have had our ups and downs, we have been through really tough times, and we almost broke. But out love for each other was too strong, to deep, to ever truly break us apart.

Jack, and then Alex, taught me what love was supposed to be, and  it re-shaped my entire life.

Stay tuned for Part Three to find out how....

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Thoughts on loving and being loved... Part One.

I had a different post planned for today, a simple update of how the week has gone, and how I have been really busy yet totally not busy all at the same time, but I read something that changed all that.

A couple of weeks ago my beautiful friend Luna from A Strange and Curious Girl shared with me the work of  life coach Hannah Marcotti. Luna shared a 30 day workshop with me as a gift, and each day I have been working through the prompts. It has been enlightening and enjoyable. Today, Hannah shared a blog post called A Love Addict is Not Born, and it really resonated with me. Go ahead and click that link to go read the post and come back. I will wait....

Interesting stuff, eh?

I related to that post very much.

I have had a lifelong issue with love. Being loved, loving, the concept of love. All of it. I do not feel that I grew up in a loving home. We had a lovely house, built from the ground up by my parents, family, and friends of the family. I miss that house very much. My parents raised me the best way they knew how. They went out of their way to buy me things when they could. They both worked hard to make sure our needs were met, and to afford a few "wants" along the way. I lived in a beautiful house, with a good amount of stuff, I was sent on yearly vacations around the country to visit relatives...but I do not feel like I had a "loving" home.

 

My father,whom I miss so very much, was a hard man. He lived a hard life from a young age. He was abandoned by his parents on the front porch of their house when he was ten years old. His uncle cared for him for a little while, and then he was placed into a Boy's Home, and I am not sure if he stayed at that one place or if he went to more than one "home" before he became old enough to join the Air Force. He was married 7 or 8 times before he met and married my Mother, and he stayed married to her until his death..34 years. He had issues with love. He was not shown love or shown enough love, in the right way, as a child and as a young man. I am not sure of all the details of his marriages, or the how and whys of why he got married and divorced so much. There is so much about him that I do not know, because he was not an open man. He did not like to talk about his past. I was a teenager before I found out I had two more half brothers that died when they were children. My half sister told me, not my father. He and my Mother had a tumultuous relationship. As I said, he was a hard man. He used to tell us that "This was a dictatorship, not a democracy," meaning he ruled the roost and no one else had any say. He yelled all the time. He was angry all the time. He was a hard man, who did not know how to love or be loved, until much later in life.

My Mother had a hard life growing up too. Her stepfather beat the hell out of her for breathing wrong, for years, until she finally left home as a teen to live with her grandparents. She was married twice before she married my father. I know very little about those marriages. I just know that they had their problems and the marriages were ended. She did her best, but she, too, has issues with loving and being loved. She was more openly loving than my father, but it was still...different that what was needed.

I was an only child for my mother, and the youngest for my father. My half siblings were grown and almost grown by the time I came along, so I had no real relationship with them, and I do not have a relationship with them now. I have nieces and nephews, even great nieces and nephews, that I have never even met. They had no relationship with my father, and my only sister resented me to no end, so of course I had no relationship with them.

Because I was the only child in the home, I was lonely most of the time. There was only one child in our remote neighborhood, and she was a few years younger than me. She moved away after a few years and I was even lonelier. Because of the way my parents were, I felt the only time I got any attention is when I screwed up and did something bad. As other people who have gone through this will tell you, bad attention is still attention. I started doing many stupid things just so I could feel like my parents knew I existed. My Dad worked all the time, and once I went to school my mom went back to work. From the time I was 12, I was getting myself off to school, taking care of most of the house cleaning, and even starting and later cooking dinner, because they did not get home until after 6 in the evenings. I felt invisible. So to get their attention, I acted out. I caused a lot of problems with my antics. I ran away from home at the age of 15 because I felt so unloved, and so at odds with my father especially. I got into the car wreck that almost killed me during the time I ran away. My parents asked me if I wanted to come home while I was still in the hospital, or did I want to go elsewhere. I went home, and while I healed, both of my parents were amazing. I even went into therapy after that, but even though I poured my heart out to the therapist, and loved her, my father decided I was "pulling the wool over her eyes" and making them look bad. So he stopped me from going after a month or so, maybe two. I was devastated. After I healed, things went back to the way they always were, and I started doing more stupid things. Finally my father told me I either had to live by his rules, or move out. I moved out at the age of 16, with someone I never should have been with. I was so desperate to be loved, that I would do anything, with anyone, to get it, even though I knew in the back of my mind that what I was getting was NOT real love. The only good thing to come from those relationships are my two teens. But, because I was so busy chasing "love," I had my kids taken away from me, which only made it that much worse. I held a lot of animosity towards both my parents for many years. Blaming them for how my life turned out. Later, I shifted most of the blame on to myself, where it belonged, but they still have a part in the blame too, because of the way they did things.

I understand now that they both did the best they knew how, and as an adult who has been through many bad relationships, I understand that marriages are hard work, and the baggage each person brings to the relationship can influence that marriage in untold ways, both seen and unseen. Now I understand that they did not and could not show love in a healthy way because they had no clue how to give it. They never received it. So they loved me the best way they knew how, and I realize that. I love them both very much, and the last 8 or 9 years have been some of the best years I have had with my parents. Although they took my children away from me ( which is one part a good thing and one part a bad thing ) having the kids changed them both for the better. For many years my eldest daughter was the sun and moon to my father. She taught him many things about healthy loving. There were times I was jealous of her, because she got what I so desperately wanted from my parents. Real, visible, healthy love. They were the same way with my son, whom they took when he was five. After that happened, I pretty much stopped caring about anything for a long time. I would do anything to try to feel better, even to the point of almost dying from my recklessness. I did not care. I wanted anything that would fill that terrible gaping void in my soul.

Because of their actions, and my own, I had no clue what healthy love was. I did not know how to get it, or how to give it. I did not even know what it looked like. Dysfunction was the theme of my life, and I made a lot of wrong choices while trying to find healthy love.

Then I met Jack. We had our 9th anniversary on April 4th. Everything changed when I entered into a relationship with him. He was a few years older than me, had a great job, a vehicle, and parents who loved him and helped him when he needed it, even when he made stupid mistakes. ( That changed later but that is a different story that is not mine to tell. ) At the time, I was not speaking to my parents much, we had a falling out not to long before. Jack's father was like my second father. He loved me, and supported me and stood up for me when I needed it most. He will always have a special place in my heart for that. He helped me to understand my parent's side of things, even while validating what I felt. Still, it was not until after Alex was born that real healing began between my parents and myself. I had something in Jack that I had never had before. He truly loved me, and supported me. That is not to say the last 9 years have all been smooth sailing. Two of the last nine years were very shaky, and we actually split up twice. Once for a weekend and once for a day and a half. A lot of that was my fault. He is a very loving person and requires a lot of love. He has had his fair share of bad relationships too. He waited until later in his life to have a child, and he wanted Alex with all of his heart. He is an excellent father, a PRESENT father, not just bodily, but mentally and emotionally as well. That is something my older two kids never had, aside from my father. Due to having them at such an early age, their birth fathers were not ready to have a child, or  be in a child's life, and while that is sad, it was better for the kids.

 My father was the stable father they needed, and my mother was the stable mother they needed. While the hurt of having them taken away from me, and the continued hurt of not having them living with me is still there, I AM grateful to both of my parents for providing the kids with a stable and mostly loving home. They are teens now, and everyone knows that is a volatile period in anyone's life, but for the most part, they are well taken care of. There are some things I do not agree with in the way things are going, but I am unable to do anything about it. So I make sure they both know I love them and will do everything I can to help them if they need it.

Back to my relationship with Jack...he is wonderful. He is gruff and "rough around the edges" to other people, but he is so different at home. He takes care of us, he worries about us, and he always puts us above himself. He is very loving, inwardly and outwardly, and he is not afraid to let the world know how much he loves and cares for us. The issues we have had are mostly my fault, and it is because I had NO clue how to be in a good and functional relationship. I did not know how to be in a relationship where the man was not a drunk or a drug user. I did not know how to be in a relationship where I was not being cheated on, or cheating myself. I did not know how to be in a relationship where I was not being hit or abused. I did not know how to be loved. I did not know how to love. I am much better about it now, but I am still having to work on it. I am so used to keeping people at arms length, so I will not be hurt. It took me many years to realize that by being that way, I was hurting Jack. I was causing this huge rift, not because he was abusive or a terrible husband and father, but simply because I had no idea how to be loved.

Come back tomorrow for part two and find out what I have learned, and how it has changed every single relationship I have.

*I want to add this is not a post bashing my parents. None of us are perfect, and I love my parents very much.  They did the best they knew how, and they helped shape me into who I am today, with both the good and bad things. While their methods were not always the greatest, I appreciate the lessons in life. Part two will talk about that.*

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A little social experiment.

As some people may or may not have noticed, I have been pretty silent for the better part of a week on my social networks. I have not posted on Facebook or here on the blog, on Twitter, or anywhere else.

There are two reasons for that.

One, I have been busy trying to prepare for this coming week. Jack has had appointments, we have another one today and his surgery is tomorrow. Right now I am sitting in my mother's office at work, as I am going to help her pick up a new to her vehicle as her current one keeps giving her fits, in and out of the shop. So she bought a back up vehicle. I will be driving her current vehicle home later and meeting Jack at her house so we can go to his Doctor's appointment. Also, with so much going on, I have been quiet, and have not  had much to say.

After a couple of days however, I decided that since I was not going to be here much I would conduct a little experiment. I decided to see just how long it took my "friends" to notice I was not posting and had gone silent, and see who decided to check in with me. Not in an asshole way or anything. I am not going to delete anyone or act like a jerk, I was just honestly curious. I have almost 500 contacts on my personal Facebook account ( half of those are for FB games and not those I really talk to outside of the game. ) Out of the remaining half, I talk to maybe 30 people on a regular to semi-regular basis. Out of that 30, I consider 15 or so to be "close" friends, those who I would expect to notice my silence. In 5 days of total social networking silence, ( which is unheard of for me ) ONE person contacted me, and not because I was silent, but because she knows everything that has been going on in my life and decided to ask how I was. One person.

I was a bit disheartened. I have been searching for my "tribe," and I thought I had found it. Granted, everyone has things they are dealing with, and may have simply not noticed at all. But considering that I talk to a good chunk of those people DAILY...it surprised me that NONE of them said a word. NO one noticed ( or at least said anything about it ) that I said nothing for almost a WEEK. It bugs me, even though I do not want it to.

Most of my friends are online friends. Even the ones I know face to face are online friends as well, due to location, time and responsibility preventing us from getting together often. So therefore, those online friends are very important to me. Having NO one say anything at all makes me feel like I do not really matter to those people. That may not be the case of course, and I am not saying that it is. That is how it makes me feel however.

I have done the same things at times. I notice certain people not posting very often, but chances are, I know what is going on in their lives so it is not really a surprise that they have not been around, so I do not say anything. That may be the case here too. Most people know how things have been, so because they are not surprised, they might not say anything. I still do not like that little doubt that popped up in the back of my mind though.

It could make one wonder just how meaningful their online relationships actually are. I know that mine are valid and important, most of my online relationships I have had for years. I love these people.

I am sure it is best for me not to over-think it, as I tend to do.

How do you all feel about your online relationships? Are they totally fulfilling? Do they ever seem a little one-sided, ( and be honest, could you be the one not saying anything? ) Do you work as hard to maintain your online relationships that matter, as you would your face to face relationships?

Share your thoughts with me in the comments!

I am going to be quiet for a few more days, as tomorrow is Jack's surgery and I will be dealing with taking care of him for a while. Alex is spending most of this week with my Mom since the kids are out on Spring Break. So that is a good thing.

Also, I have started using Bloglovin' to replace Google Reader. There is a striking button for it over on the right sidebar. Click it to be taken to my page on Bloglovin'.

One more thing. I have a poll question up on top of the left sidebar, asking when you usually read the blogs and articles you enjoy. Be a lamb and click an answer for me, please? Thanks :D

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"Noobs" vs "Not Noobs" or The Green vs The Seasoned

Noob, Newbie, Newb.

We have all probably heard the slang words that describe someone who is new to something. Especially popular in the gamer crowd ( of which I am a member of ), it is frequently used in a derogatory manner, to imply they are too new and therefore not worth the more advanced person's time and effort.

Love thy newbie, for thy was also once a newb!

In the gamer world, you have your seasoned players, who have logged countless hours playing said game, and then here comes someone who started just last week, who is still learning, and they may make some grievous error out of ignorance, which pisses the advanced gamers off and causes them to have fits of rage, complete with scathing insults heaped upon the "noob's" head, making that person feel like crap, simply because they have not had enough experience to know any better.

Another place this happens frequently is in the world of Paganism. Not everyone is this way, of course, and there are plenty of Pagans who love to help people new to their paths, but for years I have seen those who are more advanced, who have been on their paths for many years, who act just like the veteran gamers do. They have no patience for the "noobs"  ( I prefer Newbs myself and will use this spelling from now on ) or anyone who has not been on their path for years. Gods forbid they get asked a question by these green pagans. I have seen and heard and in weaker moments, given some of the most terrible tirades, speeches, and lectures given by seasoned pagans to those who are new to the Craft. Granted, in this age of technology, a wealth of information is at your fingertips on the internet, but first hand knowledge can make a huge difference in a person's path, especially if they have deeper questions than a simple internet search can give them. I have been on my path for 21 years, mostly alone, mostly self taught, but the knowledge I have gained from a few kind souls who were willing to answer a few ( and sometimes a lot of  ) questions helped me in ways I cannot describe.

So I am writing a bit of an open letter, first to seasoned pagans, and then to the Newbs out there.

Dear Seasoned Pagans,

Stop being asshats to Newbies. You, yourself, were once just as green as they are, and we are in a great position to stop a lot of the fear and misconceptions about being a Pagan. Maybe you were rejected in the early days of walking  this path, and now you feel you are entitled to do the same. Maybe you were totally self taught, you put in all the research, legwork, trial and error, and everything in between to be where you are, and feel that every person should have to do that. Maybe you simply do not have the desire, or the patience to teach anyone something that, even for "Public Pagans" is still at it's core, a deeply personal experience.

I get it. I have been there, and I understand where you are coming from. NONE of those reasons, however, gives us the right to treat these newcomers like unruly children. Granted, some Newbs are asshats, and will not listen, or think they know it all, and I will get to them in a minute. There are still ways to not rain insults on them and make them doubt if this is the path they want to be on, if all pagans are such jerks. Ours is a path of supposed acceptance and knowledge. One of the reasons a lot of us are pagans is because Christianity left us with a bad taste in our mouths so to speak. One thing I can say is that I have never seen or read about a patriarchal religion turning down newcomers who want to learn about their path or religion. I am sure there are some out there, but usually you can't get them to shut up teaching about it, they don't insult you and tell you that you are a newb and make them feel they are not worth spending time and effort on.

I am not saying we have to answer every question, or take everyone under our wings and show them the ropes. Hell no. I can't do that  myself. I have very little patience or desire to teach anyone about it anymore, even my son, who is fresh on the path. I will answer his questions, because he is my son and I love him, but I also direct him to go look it up for himself. My point is, it takes less energy and blood pressure points to give a basic answer and direct them somewhere they can find out the information for themselves, if  you happen to know a few places in particular, or to simply say "Sorry, I am not a teacher in the least, but so and so is, or do a quick internet search and you will find lots of answers" than to spend ten minutes or more ranting and raving at the person and making them feel like crap. You can decline to be a teacher without being a total jerk. Think about how you would feel is someone did that to you.  ( And maybe they did, and how bad did it make you feel?? ) Be respectful.

No one likes a know-it-all jerk.

Dear Green Pagans,

Don't be an asshat either. I know a whole world is opening up before you, and you want to cram as much info into your cranium as possible, but it took a lot of work to be where we seasoned pagans are today. I know you are probably reading everything you can get your hands on, and that is great, but there is a HUGE difference in book knowledge and practical experience. Don't be afraid to get out there and just do it. Be cautious, but do it. There is nothing anyone can tell you that will make up for good old fashioned experience. Even though there are very well known and respected public pagans, that does not mean that everyone you know who follows an alternative religion or path wants to pull up a chair with you and tell you everything they know. Even those who are willing to answer your questions still consider their practice a deeply personal thing. Do not act like because you read a few books, cast a spell or two, or conducted a ritual, that you are on even ground with someone who has been on the path for a decade or more. Don't be a know-it-all jerk to them either. Trying to lecture a seasoned pagan is a sure fire way to not get taken seriously, and make it to where no one wants to help you with anything. Some people will be happy to share with you. Many  people will not, and that is their choice. Keep searching, be respectful, and never stop learning. ( That goes for us seasoned pagans as well...things change all the time, new information is always being presented, and even though you may not practice it or adopt it into your path, keeping up with the times is always a good thing,  and can help you to understand the next generation of pagans.) This is not always an easy path, but it can be a very rewarding one.

So in conclusion, there is no reason that new and more advanced pagans can't find common ground, as long as a little mutual respect and a bit of patience is present on both parts. No one wants to be treated like an asshat, no matter how long you have been on a path.

I hope you will take that into consideration the next time you ask a question, or have the urge to blast someone to bits because they do not know as much as you do about something.

Have any thoughts about this? Tell me in the comments!

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Strange Tides...

I have felt this shift in the Universe for a couple of weeks now. Since the 21st to be honest, but I am not sure if that is because of an actual shift in the cosmos or if it is just in my mind. Either way, I feel it.

I have a hard time sitting still these days. I seem to always be doing something, and if I am not, I feel restless and discontent. I am in an organize phase, and a cleaning phase. Nothing is clean enough, nothing is organized enough. This is not a bad thing, but it is different for me. I am always cleaning or doing something, but never with this sense of urgency. It feels like if I am not cleaning then it will mean the end of the world.

Very strange.

I am also finding myself out of patience. I am no longer willing to constantly explain myself, to try to make people understand me. I am tired of trying to stuff myself into someone else's box, tired of trying to find some shred of common ground to get people to accept me, or to see I am not so different from them, so they do not feel uncomfortable.

The truth is, I am a lot different than most people I know. I am more comfortable on the darker side of things. Not evil, not bad, just darker. I like dark humor, I like dark colors, I like dark clothes. There is nothing wrong with that, or with me, it is just who I am. All my life I have been trying to get people to accept and understand me, and I am just no longer willing to do that. I am a great person. Sure I have made mistakes, and I am far from perfect, but who hasn't?

I am at the age to where you either accept me or you don't. I am me, I have always been me, and I grow and change just like everyone else. Who I am at my core, however, has never changed. My father used to tell me that "With age comes wisdom" and he is very correct.  The older I get the more I learn about myself, and as of late, I am learning how other people actually see me. People that I thought were very close to me do not talk to me as much, especially since it was made known that we were in need. People in need tend to make other people very uncomfortable, even if that need is never mentioned between them. Like they are just waiting to be asked for help. I would never go directly to anyone and ask for help, especially from people I am close to, because chances are I know how much they might be struggling too. When I wrote that blog post, throwing it all out there, it took everything I had to do it. It goes against everything I believe in.  But I did it in a way that made it easy for anyone who wanted to and was able to help could do so. I did not schlep door to door of my friends and family and ask for anything. I could never do that. I am also finding out how people I thought were close to me really feel about me. Someone very close to me hurt me terribly not long ago, and I am still reeling from it, from the shock. I have no desire to go into details, with anyone about it, nor will I, but it has hurt me to my core, which is not easy to do.

I am tired of defending my life choices to people. I live in BFE because I wanted to be closer to my parents and my kids, and because of the schools. I am with Jack because I love him and feel he is my soul mate. I am not with other people because I was not meant to be, or for whatever reason was the case at the time. It no longer matters why, because I am with the person I love more than anything aside from my children. I am not working because when I left work, I was simply paying for the babysitter and the gas to go to work. There was no profit. Now, I am unable to work in the jobs that are most likely to hire me, even if the economy did not suck here, and the jobs I can do will not hire me because even though I have  the knowledge, I do not have the college degree to go with them. My older kids do not live with me because I made stupid decisions when I was younger, and I could not afford to take care of them. They are better off where they are, I fully admit this. I have the desire and the love and the knowledge to care for them, but I do not have the resources to do so. Plus, to be honest, my mom NEEDS them, she needs someone with her. I am not Christian, Wiccan, or any other religion because I do not agree or believe in those religions.

Those are the things that seem to matter to people. Where do you live, where do you work, where are your kids, what religion are you, and who are you with, and why. So there it is. Never mind that there is so much more to me than those things. Never mind what kind of brain, what kind of heart, what kind of soul I have. Most people have no desire to know those things about me, unless they match up with what they themselves believe in. There are a few that do, but very few. When I meet someone new I automatically start trying to explain myself, so throw my life story right out there, so they can go ahead and judge me or not judge me and we can either maybe develop a relationship or they can go on their merry way. I have no problem explaining myself to new people, but it is tiresome and old to keep repeating myself and trying to justify my right to believe the way I want to believe over and over again to the people who have been in my life for some time. It will no longer happen. I am done. Either you have accepted me by now, or you don't. No longer will I explain myself or justify my beliefs to people. This is just the way I am.

This is going to be an interesting year. I am learning new things and working my way through several things internally. My surroundings are changing as well, as I clean and organize...and my personal life is is also changing, as new people come in to my life and as people seem to be leaving it. There are people who have become so very special to me and I am grateful for them.

Everything is changing, and while some of the lessons will be hard and might hurt, I can honestly say I am excited to see where the tide takes me....

Now that I finally have this post out of the way, as it has been brewing for several days now...there will be many more to come soon!

Do any of you find yourself having to repeat the same things over and over to the people in your life?