New Beginnings

Emotional roller-coaster of love and lust

Author Archives: girllovelost


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Young wisdom

“Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them”

 – Antoine de Saint-Exupery

My daughter, she is one in a million. Like all of us. Each one of us unique in our own way. Sometimes I think she can sense my self doubt and lack of self love because she has a knack for saying things that uplifts me.

Since her last birthday party, I have been labelled the ‘cool Mom’ by all her friends, even kids I don’t know. Children have always liked me and not some children, all children. I think it’s because I’m still a big kid at heart. I am very spontaneous and confident and because kids don’t judge as harshly as adults, I can totally be myself around them. When I picked her up on Monday from the after school club she was sitting with two class mates studying a picture of a diver swimming near what appeared to be a beautiful coral reef. I was told that they had to study the picture and write a story about it. Of course I immediately responded by saying it reminds me of the little mermaid and in true fashion followed by my rendition of ‘Under the sea’ – only a couple of verses. One of the boys said, ‘You have a cool Mom’. So later I asked her, why did that boy say you have a cool Mom. She replied ‘Well most mothers might say it reminded them of the little mermaid, full stop; but you, you sing the song too’. Then she proceeded to say ‘You are like a child, but yet responsible like an adult, that’s what I love about you’ Well, I wasn’t really sure if that was a compliment or not, but I took it. However, what she said to me this morning, really made me think. I was applying my make up when she approached me and asked ‘Why do you wear make up? You’re already beautiful’. I said to her, well, you love me so I’m beautiful to you no matter what I do. She then said, ‘Well, I’ve seen beautiful ladies, and they are beautiful, but you are different beautiful’. I was surprised by these words coming from a nine year old. So I asked, ‘What makes me different beautiful?’. She replied, ‘Your eyes, they laugh with your mouth. They are always kind and I can always see that you’re telling the truth’. If only she knew how much I needed to hear that. I’m cool and beautiful 🙂 Even coming from the mouths of children, I need to start somewhere.

When someone tells you, you are beautiful, amazing or ‘cool’, take the compliment. Children don’t compliment easily, and adults even less so. So even if only one person thinks you’re wonderful, accept it and believe it.


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Lies

The lies we tell ourselves. These are the worst lies you can tell. When reality becomes too much to handle, we lie to ourselves. Some of us are just much better at it than others. There are of course the people that don’t even live in reality. They live a lie. Reality has become too much of a burden. Traumatic event(s) from their past make reality unbearable so lying becomes a way of life.

I always try and tell the truth, but I find myself falling in the trap of lying to myself. I therefore try to do regular reality checks. It’s not an easy exercise because reality can suck. If only I started doing this much earlier in my life. First major lie is thinking that being raped as a virgin will leave no scars or won’t affect my whole life. It did and it does. I think the root of my failed relationships with men rests in this. I’m not sure if it can be fixed. Maybe I do need therapy. How do you stop yourself from seeing all men as users and abusers. Even the ones that really loves you. Second, lying about love. I’m not sure I do know what love is. Love between a man and a woman. Love that makes you want to fight for it and save it. I’ve never had the impulse to fight for a relationship. Most of all not with the men that loved me. Something is definitely missing from my concept of love. Third, lying about what I’m worth. I feel worthless and unworthy of anyone’s time, effort or love, but in reality, I am worthy. Even as broken as I am. This is the most difficult lie I have to deal with, because it will require me to love myself. I am not selfish, in fact I will give away everything I have for someone that I believe needs it more than I do. I will help anyone with anything and I won’t even consider the impact it will have on me, bad or good. That includes helping men please themselves. I always thought these are good qualities. To give and help unconditionally. However, if you don’t truly love yourself, you are merely giving the physical to people, you are never giving or showing them your true self. Self love is my biggest obstacle, has been since the rape. And it is a fact / reality that no one will ever truly love you, until you love yourself.

I have no idea where to start. How do I fall in love with myself?  Just writing it and I feel selfish, but I know it’s not. If only I could see myself through my friends’ and family’s eyes. My friends and family tell me how great I am, how loving, kind and giving I am, but it doesn’t change how I feel about myself. I still have a lot to learn…


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Words

Words are powerful. They can make or break a person. Whispering words of wisdom can empower, encourage, uplift and help move someone forward. Choose KIND words to heal one’s spirit – Ritu Ghatourey

Words, so many words and sometimes so little. Why are we so scared of saying how we really feel or don’t feel? I tell you it is worse to not tell someone how you don’t feel than to spare their feelings and keep quiet. The absence of words is equally unkind as choosing kind words. There are those that want to remain closed, unwilling to share themselves with anyone, even the people they claim to care for. I’m an over sharer. I can’t be pretentious or keep it all in. I’ll explode. People know where they stand with me. If they don’t I was probably having a really bad day.

Having said that, I realize that I have said a lot of things to men these last couple of months that’s just not true. Yes, I lied a lot. I can therefore maybe not be too harsh on my catfish. I lied when I thought it was what the other person wanted to hear. Big error when it comes to being true to yourself. In doing so, I’ve left many men thinking I’m something that I’m absolutely not. Yes, I have physical urges, but I’m not the sex craved woman I’ve led some to believe. I wanted to please them and say the things I thought they wanted to hear. When I then suddenly wanted them to know the real me, they were left confused. It’s my own fault but lesson learned. Be kind to yourself, no matter what. Know what you want and don’t steer away from it, even if you really want that person to like you. It’s not worth it. It will only end badly. You only need the people that likes you for who you really are, in your life. Pretending to be something you’re not or liking something you don’t, will eventually become apparent. This only leaves a lot of confusion, feelings of being misled and you will only end up doubting your own needs and desires.

I have studied a lot of ‘dating’ rules and the does and don’ts of conversing with men. Don’t tell them too much, don’t tell him how you really feel until he does, don’t send him a message first, you’ll seem desperate. If he doesn’t text you, go into ‘no contact’ and even ignore him when he messages you. The list goes on and on. I don’t have the energy or time to learn these or even follow them. It’s time consuming and exhausting. I can’t be waiting for something that’s never going to happen. When it’s right, when it’s the right person for you, there are no rules. Just be yourself. If he can’t handle it, then that’s his problem. It’s not you. Everyone can’t like you, and that’s OK. The least you can do is present everyone with your true self. Don’t change for the sake of anyone. You will only make yourself unhappy and lose yourself in the process.

Here’s to stopping the bull shit and just being myself. No more playing along for his sake or trying to find, or worse, create love where there is none on offer.


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My Poem

You can…

You can desire me
I’m already wanting
You can touch me
I’m already trembling
You can kiss me
I’m already anticipating
You can caress me
I’m already gasping
You can tease me
I’m already tethering
You can take me
I’m already quivering

You can’t…

You can’t hurt me
I’m already broken
You can’t use me
I’m already abused
You can’t open me
I’m already out of reach
You can’t read me
I’m already misprinted
You can’t keep me
I’m already lost
You can’t hold me
I’m already leaving
You can’t hate me
I’m already despised
You can’t love me
I’m already gone

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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Beautifully Flawed

Welcome to my silly life. Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood, Miss ‘No way, it’s all good’, it didn’t slow me down.

Mistaken, always second guessing, underestimated

Look, I’m still around – PINK

This song resonates with me today. I’m tired of being mistreated and misunderstood. I’m flawed, yes, like most people on this planet.

I’m realistic about my situation and the emotional repercussions it is having on me. I yearn with my whole being to be loved, but love can’t be bought, found, or created.

Right now, I don’t think anyone understands me or cares enough for me to truly love me. This isn’t a bad thing, but the realization doesn’t make it any easier. Once I removed all of the distractions, I initially felt a sense of accomplishment and to a degree, that I had control over my life and desires again. All life changing decisions do require you to go through various stages. I’m in unknown territory so not sure how many stages there are. At the moment I feel a deep longing for physical contact. I wish I wasn’t so passionate. I look at people that label themselves as ‘laid back’. I want to be laid back. I have a very open and liberal view about various things in life, but when it comes to emotions, I think I’ve always been passionate. I don’t love and give halfheartedly. I don’t hold grudges. I can get angry quickly, but within five minutes, I’m so disappointed in myself.  If a friend needs me in a crisis, I’ll be there. No questions asked. Whatever they need. I don’t ignore people I care for and there are a lot of people that I care for dearly. Writing this I realize that people must be overwhelmed by my passion as it can be misconstrued as something else by mistake. If only they knew how much I have to offer, they might even ask me for help sometimes. I am at my happiest when I can help someone or just listen if they need to talk. All I’ve been doing for months now is cry, vent, talk and worry about my life. I can’t help but feel I’ve been very selfish.

I need to start looking outside my little world again. There are so many people that are much worse off than I am. I’m going to stop telling people how I feel. Instead I’ll cry as much as I need to, write my blog and carry on. If anyone needs or wants me, great, if they don’t, great. In my opinion, no person should be dependent on another person to the extent that they can’t function or live without them.

If all else fails, there is always wine, music and my vibrator 🙂

 

 


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No sleep

My thoughts and I

The night brings loneliness

A man wrapped in darkness
Lying still, planning and calculating
His next victim totally unaware

A child is sleeping
Her subconscious aware
Her conscious not accepting
Her world will change soon

A girl is dancing and swaying
She feels every beat in her soul
She hears the lyrics and finds them foreign
It will all come true

A man is playing the game
He weighs his options
Retract, progress or remain
Which path will he choose?

A boy is dying
A mothers’ heart is broken
He will soon depart
No pain will follow where he’s going

A friend is living
New faces, places and experiences
Nothing to loose, everything to gain
The unknown, a new adventure

A woman lies alone in bed
The familiar ache starting to stir
Will she make the same mistake?
Her body and mind separate

Life is good, life is cruel
Life is short, no turning back
Don’t repeat the same mistake


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The Future

Change

The unknown, the uncertain, the nothing guaranteed, the challenge, the future. Imagine we knew exactly what was going to happen in our future, but because we knew, we couldn’t change it. Someone hands your parent / guardian your future when you’re born; your life certificate. Parents can see what will happen in their child’s life, they can see all the mistakes, hurt, happiness, love, good times and the day their child will die. When a child turns a certain age, they are handed a copy. Everyone knows exactly what will happen to them, but nothing can be done to change any of the outcomes on that future plan. You are stopped from intervening, changing your mind when you know you’re going to be make a bad decision or preventing your final destination; death.  Maybe a good idea for a dystopian science fiction movie, but the reality is, the future is a dark realm that no light can penetrate.

What I do know from past experience is that I will not be exactly the same person tomorrow that I am today. My personality will be the same, but the way I see life and love will be different. My face will look the same, but how I feel about myself will be different. My eyes will be the same, but how I see things will be different. My ears will be the same, but how I listen when people talk to me, will be different. My mouth will be the same, but who I choose to kiss will depend on more than just a need. My skin will still cover my body, but how I let myself be touched will be different. My hands will still be there, but what I use them for will be different. My feet will still be there, but who I choose to run to, or from, will be different. My heart will beat till the day I die, but who I open it to will know what it is to be loved, even if not forever. My mind changes because I’m a female and it will always be that way, but I’m looking forward to the moments when it is well and truly made up. I can’t change my sex, but I can change with whom and why I have sex. The way I love will not change, even if I thought it had. I will always love with my whole being.

My soul will be with me always and will never change.

 


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Hope

Never give up. Have hope. Expect only the best from life and take action to get it – Catherine Pulsifer

It’s so easy to wallow in self pity, sadness and all the injustices of the past . It’s a strangely comfortable place to be in. You have a reason to stay exactly where you are when you are in this state of mind, BUT it only gives you a false sense of security. Yes as a female I have hormonal ups and downs to contend with, but ultimately I need to get out of this state. If you’re in this state long enough, you even forget you’re in it, resulting in a mental stasis. No progress, no change.

I will not be consumed by it. It has to stop. I have to stop expecting the worst. I need to love myself again, not pity myself, not revel in my own sadness and hurt, but find my true self again. Only when you truly know yourself can you identify what it is you want or need. I tried to make a list of things that make me happy. Not what people do that makes me happy, but what I do or experience that makes me happy. It sounds selfish, but I’m trying to have a monologue, not a dialogue.

Singing

Yes, singing makes me very happy. I’m always singing or have a song in my head. I even hear songs in the words people say to me. My friends are used to this as I will sometimes start singing a song mid conversation that contains the words they just said. Most of the time I restrain myself from doing it, but with friends that know me well, I just do it :). At the moment my life is like a collection of Pink songs. I think Pink and I could be best friends if we ever met. High hopes of that happening, but never say never! Yes, music moves me and inspires me and it’s a big part of my life. From the classics to modern day monotonous beats and pretty unimaginative lyrics.

Piano

I play the piano and when I do, I go to a quiet place with no thoughts, bliss. I can leave the world behind. Harmony creating harmony. For me, playing piano is a deeply personal experience. I don’t play well in front of others, so no concert pianist hidden deep inside. I feel vulnerable when I play because it exposes my soul. I play Beethoven and Chopin when I’m melancholy, Bach when I’m happy and Clare de Lune when I’m in love or feeling loved. My favorite modern day composer is Michael Nyman. The songs from the movie ‘The Piano’ moves me and I relate to them. If only I could compose, but I’m not that talented. Happy to appreciate and play the works of the masters.

Small things

I love the outdoors and looking for the small things that we take for granted. On one of my walks mid autumn, I stopped at a poplar tree. What made me stop was the sound of the wind as it moved the leaves. It gave me goosebumps. The leaves were beautiful too. Green on one side and silver on the other creating a beautiful contrast. It made me happy to stand there for a while, closing my eyes and just listening. Nature creates it’s own music.

There is a bench on top of a small hill near my house. I like to lie on top of it and just stare into the sky. If it’s cloudy I look for shapes and faces in the clouds. One very windy day I reached the top and collapsed on the bench. It had taken a lot of energy to climb the hill that day and I needed the rest. The clouds were moving really fast and very low. It seemed like I could reach up and touch them. They touched me instead. Very small droplets of rain started pelting down, driven by the wind. The droplets on my face, the clouds speeding by, it felt amazing. I could stay there all day long and not get bored.

The seaside

I love the seaside. I think the sea is in my blood. I don’t know why, but nothing recharges my batteries and brings me more joy than the beach. Long barefoot walks on the sand or pebbles if you’re not close to a golden sandy beach. Reflexology is good for the body they say and walking barefoot on a pebbly beach is basically like walking on a reflexology board. I love rock pools. I remember catching a tiny octopus in a rock pool close to where the rocks stop and the ocean starts. It fitted in my hand, sucking onto my palm for dear life. It was a little thing of beauty. I always gently  push my finger between the little tentacles of  an anemone to feel how it grasps my finger, but it will always let go when it realizes that your finger is not the next meal. If you put your finger back in the same anemone, it doesn’t even bother grasping it again. It now knows that you are not food. If only we learned from our mistakes this quickly.

The night sky

I love to watch the sky at night. The moon enchants me and I always feel inspired by a full moon. Meteor showers are my favorite. Who doesn’t like to wish upon a star? And you get plenty of wishes when you watch a meteor shower. My family thinks I’m crazy of course as some of the best ones happen in autumn and winter. I’ve sat in my garden, wrapped up like an Eskimo, staring at the sky for hours, waiting to see the next shooting star. I’ve seen some awesome meteors and every single time I smile and almost immediately I can’t wait to see the next one. The next major shower is April – the Lyrids shower. I hope that by April I’ll have more answers than questions, so looking forward to it.

 

 

 


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Trapped

Emotional roller-coaster

I feel trapped. The emotional roller-coaster is riding high and I’m trying to limit the tickets. I managed to sever all ties with the men I met over the last four months. No more dirty messages, dirty talk, naked pics. I’m trying to distance myself from friends too. When my thoughts become muddled and chaotic, destruction is all I leave in my wake. I hurt people I care for more than myself, effortlessly.

Feeling trapped is starting to filter into my subconscious. I have nightmares every night, IF I manage to sleep. The first one was Tuesday night. I was pinned down by someone and I couldn’t get free. It feels so real. I wake up, heart pounding, coated in a film of sweat. I thought it was a once off, but every night since then I struggle to sleep and I have similar nightmares. I get choked, I can’t breath, I can’t break free.

The problem is, I don’t know how to free myself from this marriage. My biggest fear is telling my parents. My Mom especially. She is a feisty woman with a short temper. She has improved a lot, but it’s still there, lurking and very unpredictable. I have vivid memories of her losing her temper. My Dad was always the culprit, but I was also the trigger at times, especially in my teenage years. Nothing and nobody could escape once she was on a roll. It was even worse if she had something in her hand at that very moment. Furniture broken or glasses smashed. LPs broken in half (particularly the ones my Dad liked). If she had nothing in her hands she would self harm. I remember one incident where she said to me she didn’t like the way I spoke to her and that she is a human being. At this point she proceeded with scratching her arm open with her nails, blood coming out and her screaming at me, do you see? I’m HUMAN, I FEEL! So yes, I’m scared of her. I’m scared of the reaction. I know what they will say. You are not fighting for your marriage. You are not trying to work things out and make it work. Do you think we didn’t struggle through the years? Did we walk out on each other; no we stayed together for you. Think about your child and what this will do to her. What are you going to do with your life? Is there someone else? Are you having an affair again?

Just writing this down I’m petrified. I’m trapped. I’m trapped in my marriage with no escape, but it’s no longer a marriage. It’s one big resentment. This is all my husband has for me now. He is demanding that I take action, says he’s in limbo and that I’m just prolonging his hurt. He listens to the all the songs written about cheating and cheaters. I’m bombarded every day with snide remarks about my clothes, my hair. If I laugh or smile he wants to know why?

How long before I’ll have a nervous breakdown? How much more can I take? How many tears am I still going to cry? How long am I going to be trapped. I see only endless darkness with no chances of reconciliation and no way to escape.

 

 

 


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Love

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass – Desiderata

Young love

I feel inspired to write about love. I wonder if digging into how my perception of love changed over the years will give me a better insight into my current circumstances and confusion, so this is my love story.

My first love, the boy next door. We were both 12 but went to different schools so we met on the wall. Yes, I used to sit on the wall and contemplate my 12 years of existence. We had only just moved to this town, miles and miles away from where I grew up and I was really missing my friends. One afternoon he said hello and joined me on the wall. So started hours of conversations but no venturing into the others yard as parents wouldn’t allow that without asking permission first. Little did I know how much this boy liked me. After a couple of months we met on the wall as we always did and I was presented with a card (which I still have). He just gave me the card and left. Inside was the sweetest card that read “You make my world go round” and sweetly signed “Love, Leon”. Also included was a locket which I also still have.  I was shocked but very smitten. A week went by before we both ventured onto the wall again. He was so sweet. We almost shared our first kiss one afternoon, but we both chickened out. It was a good thing as we soon moved to another town. We cried so much the day we had to say goodbye. He hugged me for what seemed forever and I can still feel his arms around me and how my heart hurt. I found him a couple of years ago on Facebook, but after a couple of months, he unfriended me. He had his own little family now and I guess, I was just someone he didn’t want to be reminded of.

So new town, new school. For the next five years I was infatuated with one boy. From the moment I saw him, I loved him. He had a twin brother but I didn’t struggle like everyone else to tell them apart. He was a cool kid. I was a nerd. This did not stop me from pining over him.For four years I only loved one boy that didn’t know I existed. I clearly started off as a one man show. In my final school year my best friend, who is an amazing writer, said that he would help me out as he could no longer stand the fact that this boy didn’t even know how I felt. So he convinced me to write him a letter, confessing my love. The added twist would be that he would write this letter for me as he was so good at writing. What I didn’t realize at the time was that my best friend was gay and he loved the same boy I did, so everything he wrote in that letter flowed from his heart as much as mine. The letter was composed and presented to said boy before Geography…the only class we had together. I didn’t give him the letter, my friend did. Watching from the other side of the class room how he went completely red in the face reading that letter was absolute torture. The reaction that followed was even worse…he turned to my friend and asked him, who is this girl? I truly didn’t know I existed. Needless to say, my last school year was not that great lol He now knew very well who I was and how I felt down to the smallest detail, so avoiding me was his mission for the last 6 months of school.

So, I turned 16, never been kissed before then 17, never been kissed before…I started thinking I’m NEVER going to kiss a boy!! Then I went to University…I was introduced to drinking and smoking and boys! In my second year, just before my 18th birthday I went to a party. There a boy caught my eye and I caught his. We started chatting, we danced, we had a couple of drinks and then we went over to his place. We were listening to opera music (I know! but we both really liked that), just sitting and talking and the next minute he leaned in, and it happened! My first kiss. I was so happy! What did I do? I told him lol! After about 5 to 10 minutes of kissing I broke free and said, “That was my first kiss and it was amazing!” His reaction…You’re lying. He didn’t believe me, in fact he wanted to know why I would lie about it and that it wasn’t necessary. So for the rest of the evening I tried to convince him that this was true. Eventually he accepted it, but I think he still didn’t believe me. We kissed some more and I went home.

After that kiss, many kisses followed with different boys. Boys I met at parties, boys I met in clubs, boys in my class. It was all downhill from there. And alcohol was always involved. Until the unfortunate night that I went to a party, got drunk, couldn’t see straight but still decided to walk home alone, and was raped. I honestly don’t remember a lot of detail, or maybe I just suppress it, but I don’t want to recount that night.

Real love

When I met my first husband (C) I had become somewhat of a Gothic girl. I only listened to alternative music. I spent most Friday nights in a mosh pit headbanging and I only wore black if I could help it. I was very cynical and only saw the dark side of life. Tori Amos was my role model and her first album ‘Little Earthquakes’ became my personal anthem. She was also raped and one of her songs, ‘Me and a gun’ describes the ordeal she went through. If she could survive and sing about it, so could I. We both played piano, we both sang, so hey, we are the same person. C was also into alternative music. He loved Metallica, Guns and Roses and U2. I met him at a party my friend dragged me to. We started talking and I thought he wasn’t too bad. We ended up kissing that night and exchanged numbers. I didn’t think he would call back, very few of the boys I kissed ever did, but just the next day he called me. So a relationship of five years started. I was very much in love with him, but I think what changed it for me was the distance. When I graduated, he still had one more year left and I went home to start work but he remained at University, a five hour drive away from my home town.I cried many nights because I missed him so much. We spoke on the phone a lot, but only saw each other once every two or three months.  One night I went out with work colleagues and something happened. I had sex with a man I worked with. We had been flirting at work but I never thought anything of it. I felt so extremely guilty afterwards and I told myself, you’re just lonely and really missing C. But a couple of weeks later it happened again and I had sex with my colleague again. Afterwards I would always cry and ask myself why? Why am I doing this? When C graduated he moved to my home town and started his first job there so that we could be together. I thought, right, I’ll be happy now as he is with me again. However, I went away on a business trip and had sex with my colleague again. Even better sex this time as I told him the last time that it can never happen again. Very passionate sex, leaving a very confusing girl in it’s wake. When C asked me to marry him I accepted. I felt obliged. It was what everyone was expecting. I thought things would change once I married him. It will be the magic day I had always hoped for and then we would live happily ever after. Surely marriage will commit me to him and I will not be able to repeat my past transgressions. How wrong I was. After a panic stricken honeymoon and six months of trying to convince myself I’m happy and lots of crying, anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication, I met D at work. He had just started there and I immediately felt an attraction to him. I tried to ignore it, but I always found an excuse to talk to him at work or to ask him about his personal life. He had a girlfriend and well, I was MARRIED. Nonetheless, we were soon having an affair. I realized that I was starting to fall in love with D and that I didn’t want him to be with anyone else but me. So I confessed everything to C and filed for divorce. All of that in one sentence but much more complicated in reality.

True love

Now D is telling me, he now knows what C felt like. I started thinking tonight, have I
ever truly loved someone since I was raped? Surely when you really truly love someone, you commit, you don’t cheat, you work things out. I don’t think I’m capable of true love. What I am good at and very capable of is pushing people away and cheating on people I think I love. I loved the catfish…or so I thought. This is how misconstrued my idea of love is. Can a man really love me if he knew about my past? Which begs the next question, how  could he?  My chances of finding true love is small, minuscule even. Maybe that is why I’ve been able to have sex with men and not feel anything for them, with the exception of one.