Category Archives: rant

Why I won’t go to PTO meetings…I’ll always be the odd Mom out.

The first time I stepped foot on that playground, I felt as if I was in a whole new world. Sure my baby was entering Kindergarten, but it was like a new world for me to. There were so many new people that I didn’t know. Plastering a smile on my face, I held fast to my scared little boys hand not letting him see the fear in my own eyes. After he was in and settled, I lingered there for the parents meet and greet. Since I was new to the are, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for me to start to make friends with the people whose children nine would grow and k earn with. I was so excited that these were the parents who would stand beside me as we faced trials and tribulations together. I had visions of fundraisers, sporting events, school dances in my head. Moments later, my visions were crushed and I went home with my pride limping behind me. Everywhere I turned I was snubbed, from the Moms in pj pants with slippers to the ones in the jeans and rock shirts and the ones dressed for work, not one of them glanced my way. My smile was met with a forced show of teeth, bared as if to pounce. My words cut off suitably shorts. My greetings falling on deaf ears. Did I say someth I ng wrong? Did I smell funny? Dress too out if place? I couldn’t figure it out. Chalking it up to first day jitters I limped my pride home and was ever so hopefully for day two.

The days came and went like the ones before. It didn’t matter what I wore, how enthusiastic I was or what I had to say. These women had known each other for ages or just didn’t need a new person invading their territory. I began to blame myself for the fact that my son never brought home friends. Because his Mom was a little too different. A little to single. A little too New York. I tried again two years later, when my daughter joined him in school. I went to my first PTO meeting. But the results weren’t much better. I spoke a little too much, my ideas were a little too strange, I was a little too much. So I began to make up excuses not to go. They never asked for a reason but it made me feel better just in case any of them cared, I knew they didn’t. 

When I moved into a new neighborhood I thought things would get better. I never realized how wrong I would be. My kids still go to the same school. But now the stakes are up. Because I don’t fit into the socioeconomic structure of where I live. I get by because I fight to do it. My kids are put first because that’s where I put them. But the cold shoulders never seem to cease. It’s like I have taken out an add for an airplane that Flys overhead with the sign that says outcast her perpetually over my head. My efforts to fit in have fallen to the wayside. I am just not part of the cool Moms club. I don’t go to PTO meets and don’t discuss plans with other Moms. There are no hang outs or coffee dates because really why would I sit around to be ignored. And on regular days, I am ok with being the odd Mom out. 

But today is the anti bullying rally. Something I have brought up time and time again. I was supposed to have a large role in it. And once again I was passed over. Now instead of being a part of the assembly I am passing out stickers. Because that’s what they really need me to do. Out of everything I could have done. Stickers. Because I am not a PTO Mom. Even though the teachers know me. And that I am a champion for the cause. Stickers. Because the popular girls are more popular. Now you tell me how that’s not bullying. How that doesn’t make a person feel invalidated. You tell me I’m wrong. 

I believe in this cause because I am the odd one out. And it hurts and feels bad and makes your heart break. And that’s what my heart is. Broken. This is not the side I show my kids. This is not what adults should do. But adults can be bullies too. Im stronger than what anyone can throw at me. Im know in my heart i am a good person and a good Mom. I dont have to change myself to fut into a stereotype to meet what they need me to be. This is why I’ll never step foot inside a PTO meeting again.

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I’m ALLOWED to have a BAD day!

I’m just having a bad day. Isn’t a girl allowed to have a bad day? For no reason other than she woke up sad. There’s a lot if things going on and I’m having a bad day. I feel scared, alone, exhausted. I feel netvous anxious. I feel like the tears are coming from no where and I can’t explain them. You ask me why and I say I don’t know. I can’t tell you why I feel this way. I can tell you the kids are just fine. This has nothing to do with my miraculous little creatutes. This has nothing to do with their father. He’s alrite in my book too. 

This has to do with the fact that I feel so very alone. That words and memories and songs keep playing through my head like faded memories and I can’t make themstop. I can make them go away. That I’m fighting this battle, this amazing, fantastic journey and I’m doing it all alone. And yes I’m fucking proud of nyself. It has nothing to do with pride. It has to do with I wish I had someone to hold my hand. To tell me ill be ok. To hold me through my what if and im scareds. To tell me they were right there beside me all along and you know what I don’t. And I’m mad. And I’m sad. And yes I’m allowed to be sad. I’m allowed to want to curl up and be held and just worry for a little while. 

I have all these emotions. I’m feeling all these things. This year’s has been so hard and I’ve been through so much already. And yes this is my journey, my step towards a better me, a healthier me, a new life. But I’m fucking scared. I’m scared that this is how it with always be. An uphill battle. Me against the world. With nothing soft to come home to. I miss the soft. I want the other side of my bed to be warm. I want comfort in knowing my insides are loved as much as my outsides. I want my forever. I want to stop THINKING about it. It hurts. I’m tired of it hurting. The hurt springing frp. No where at random times. Random moments of goid, like in the shower when I’m peaceful and safe and the thought of a forever moment creeps up. Because I let my mind go a little to easy. I let the wall crash down. I let myself relax.

This is the person I don’t let you see. The girl behind the mask. The girl who still has the softness to her. The fear of letting the world in. The one that wants to be held. Craves to be cherished. The girl that sits, weeping in her parked car, at the edge of a park. Instead of going home to sit in her room. Because maybe I can get over this and still make something of my day. All I want to do is eat. And I can’t eat. I gave up that line of defense. 

I’m allowing myself this time to have a bad day. Because it’s ok for me to cry. It’s ok for me to want. It’s ok for me to feel. I just wish….wish I had the switch to make it all ok again.

I’m not like you but I LOVE me

c41819a16fa36c0755343a11910be47eI’m not like you, I never claimed to be. But you have no right to sit there and make assumptions about who I am because I don’t fit into the cookie cutter mold you have decided that life should be. I am rough around the edges. I say exactly what I mean. I can come off as abrasive and even a little mean, but at least I am always honest. My clothes are not name brand but I always look good wearing them. My face seems betrays my age, so I may look younger than you ever imagined and maybe even more than you feel. I had my kids at an early age, we are close and the tell me everything. I have my own personal sense of style, nothing you say or do is going to take that away from me. I have always marched to the beat of my own drum, the ink on my skin and the color in my hair does not make me less mature than you. I laugh when I find things funny, I don’t laugh when things you find amusing hurt other people. I do not tolerate ignorance, hatred of bullying and I will raise my voice up against them. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I have fought for everything that I have and I have done a fucking good job of making a life for myself. I curse like a sailor when it’s appropriate but I know when to keep my mouth shut. I will fight to the bitter end for something I believe in but no I won’t reprimand my child if they haven’t done something wrong in my eyes. I teach tolerance not hate. I teach acceptance not bigotry. I teach love not war. I don’t believe that there is a difference between you and me just because we come from different walks of life, I teach my children that all people are the same and I will not have you sully their innocence because you have a problem with me. My children as smart and funny, well fed and clean, well mannered and innocent…Just because you do not appreciate who I am as a human, neighbor, mother or any of the labels you have affixed me with you will NOT treat my child like a pariah. Mark my words darlin, karma is a bitch and I won’t be around when it comes back to bite you in your less that well-mannered ass. I am not like you and I will never be. And that is quite alright because I am perfectly happy LOVING me. 

 

Eliza Dushku is so hot

I had a long winded rant that I was going to go into, about life and why this week was going to be really stressful but I happen to be sitting in front of the TV and while the TV is generally not a distraction…Eliza Dushku sauntering on, during try-outs for Bring it On is just fucking distracting. Now I knew for a long time that I had weird feelings when it came to girls, that I wasn’t sure why I got that tingle in my belly when I had sleepovers just like when I played football with the boys but I never really thought of when I had a sexual awakening. Thinking about it now, I am not really sure I can pinpoint it, it had to have come sometime in high school, I mean that was when the experimentation (meaning kissing girls for fun and sport) really started. But Eliza Dushku…

I remember the first time I saw Faith on Buffy, there was something about the feisty, sparkly, sassy extra slayer that just got my juices flowing. Now, looking back on it I can totally tell you that I was highly attracted to her but then I think it was a mixture of that and wanting to be her. Which kind of ties into what I was thinking about before. What I have been thinking about for the past few days. What I want to be when I grow up. Now I am not still fantasizing about being Eliza Dushku…meeting her, yes but not being her. When I am talking about growing up, I am obviously and adult and I do realize that….and I am not talking about my career path. I am talking about the kind of person I want to see reflected back at me.

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I have taken time out in the past few days to reflect on things that have been going on around me, I have been told to take a deep breath and write what I am feeling if I come up to a blockage to write through it and keep writing till I felt comfortable. I fought against that notion until this very moment. I have only thought about writing for the past few days and here I am. Now all I have been feeling is that the winds of change are blowing and if I don’t put my umbrella in the draft I am going to miss my chance and life is going to start passing me by. I have been thinking about my plans for the future, for what life is going to be like in the next couple of months, weeks, days even. A lot of stuff is happening…So let’s catch up.

This week, the kiddos are gone on another mini vacay with their Nanny so I could get stuff done while they had fun. This week is looking towards being super stressful. Back into court with the ex, figuring out exactly what is going to happen with all kinds of custody things. Hoping it turns out fine but I feel like in some ways I am being set up. Seriously…who asks the main parent to pack specific full wardrobes for children for a ten-day vacation and returns the bags with the clothes untouched? Was it a test? T make sure they have clothes? My children are well taken care of, they are healthy, well fed, happy and well adjusted. They are going to be involved in music lessons, piano and violin, drama club, sports, gymnastics and Hebrew school this year. They have so much going on and I am not going to let ANYONE ruin that. So that is all going to be taken care of on Thursday, hopefully, it is all worked out amicably….Because I don’t want to have to go through a whole court battle, it won’t be ok for them and they are all that I care about.

After this mess is cleared up we continue to gear up for school, now it has hit me that I am really doing this on my own. Now I know I have been on my own for the past 7 months, trust me that hasn’t failed to fall on my shoulders but this is different. This feels new, like a new leaf, new responsibilities, and a whole new book. Maybe because it finally is a new year and as a Mom, the start of a new school year is the real beginning. Maybe because there are so many adventures on the horizon and I finally feel up to the task of doing it myself. Maybe because I have realized that I have the ability to do it on my own and it is actually a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. Either way, the new school year is a big deal and that is approaching rapidly.

Also my house, I am rearranging, throwing out, reorganizing and getting rid of the old. I am done with things that have bad memory and juju attached to them. I want my kids to look at things and smile. I want to curl up in my bed and have it be my sanctuary because I am a fucking princess. I don’t need a prince to tell me that.

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Then we come to my surgery, as of the 26th I will be making my last appointment with my surgeon before we schedule my gastric sleeve surgery. I am totally excited and totally terrified all at the same time. I can’t wait to continue on my journey with a new tool in my bag that will help me become a new, healthy me. I am terrified because I have actually become half convinced that I will not recognize myself anymore. I have so many thoughts in my mind about what is going to happen with the surgery that I give myself a headache. I know it it is going to amazing and wonderful and incredible. I also know it is going to be a huge lifestyle change, it is going to be a whole new me and I have to accept the fact that I will look different and I will feel different and I will get different attention. I have to be ok with that. I think it is the different kind of attention. I don’t know what it will be if it is going to happen and that is the biggest part that scares me. I think I am scared people won’t love me for who I am anymore but for what is on the outside. But I shouldn’t worry about it so much because I still know who I am and I love that person….Are you still keeping up? I think I lost myself about a paragraph ago.

So ahem….now that we have caught up on what will be going on I will leave you with this. I have finally got the courage under my wings, and a voice whispering in my ear, and a foot kicking me in the ass to really get on board with my book project. It is still in the futzing around stages right now but I can tell you it is going to be amazing. I can also tell you that I have been working on my bariatric blog and that has been going pretty fucking well too. I am going to go back to watching Eliza Dushku shaking her ass…and I am going to pick out a whole new bedroom set while doing so. Because I am starting a whole new book and this sassy slayer gets to start shaking it in style too.

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Radical Acceptance

This is a topic we covered in depth at DBT today. It is a topic that comes up quite a bit in distress tolerance and one that is the hardest for me to grasp. Mind you I know exactly what it is, I know how to do it (in theory) and I know how it works. But fuck my life if it comes easily to me. I sit here listening to a playlist I made on Spotify for one of the many manuscripts I am writing and I have tears dripping down my cheeks. The only saving grace is that I already cried off all of my eyeliner in the last hour of the group, so I am not going to look like a raccoon after writing this. I am sitting here staring at my phone, not paying attention to the keys I am pressing, knowing I can just auto correct this in Grammarly and repeating to myself “Radical Acceptance Shaye, do NOT pick up that phone, don’t do it, you are stronger than this…”.

The principle of radical acceptance is that things happen in life that is painful, stressful, hurtful and sad and you just have to accept them. You accept that these things happen and move forward. You can’t change them, you can’t change the emotions they cause so you accept them for what they are and you go forward in your life. Easy right? For more things yes, yes they can be considered very easy. Sometimes, accepting things comes very easy to individuals and sometimes they are very hard. My therapist put it this way. There is a difference between pain and suffering. It is like stepping on a nail. You can feel the pain and take your foot off the nail and move on, or you can keep your foot on that nail and continue to feel the pain…THAT is suffering. The point of radical acceptance is to not let yourself suffer. I have radically accepted a lot of things in my life. But one thing, in particular, I have realized I have accepted but I am still suffering because my foot in some small way is still on that nail. That is why the tears fell from my eyes for an hour discussing this principle in the group. I have still not radically accepted the biggest change in my life. And I really want to but I don’t know how.

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I have radically accepted –

My diagnoses’ of BPD, BPII and all the fun stuff that comes with it

My 5 autoimmune diseases

My divorce from my ex-husband

My inability to lose weight without a medical intervention

The fact that my miscarriages were NOT my fault

The death of people I have loved so much

I have accepted –

That I have lost the one person I have truly loved

 

I am having trouble radically accepting the three facts above. I having trouble with accepting them because I don’t know if any of what happened between us was real. I can not radically accept any of those emotions because I don’t know if anything he said was true. I don’t know if he meant all those pretty words that came out of his mouth. I know he has said them to her and who knows if he said them before me. He said forever and always and he didn’t mean them or he would still be around. He promised me family and children but that’s out the window too. They say karma’s a bitch and he hurt me so he will be hurt. But I don’t want him hurt, and if I got hurt that badly who the hell did I piss off in order for me to be hurt that badly in the first place? Is anything I am saying make sense or am I snowballing down a treacherous slope? The thing is I am healing, I have moved past it, but a song, a word, a memory creeps in and I doubt the things that happened. I doubt that the year of my life made any impact on anyone except my children and I. Why bother wasting a year of your life if you never meant the words. You moved on from the pain like you felt no pain. You left all the pain for me to feel while you can go and give someone else the promise of forever when you have known them not even a fraction of the time you knew me. And you said I gave you the meaning of love. And what sucks is that I don’t know if anything you said was real. Except goodbye. I know that was real. And you couldn’t even say goodbye, it was just silence. With an apology to someone else. I can’t radically accept something that has no ending, no closure. It was all a fantastical daydream that turned into a nightmare. And it left me with the one thing that I never have. Regret. I regret it and you How am I supposed to radically accept regret.fc0fc5fe5fe5e5cf5b6cbc764815eaa7

I hope I understand it soon. I hope I can radically accept it soon. I hope boxing the rest of it up and getting it out my house helps. The memories, the pictures, the pieces of our handfasting, the pieces of your mother that you left with me…Why? Why keep what was a lie? One big dream. One last nightmare. Faerietale suicide.

 

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Who do you think you are (not an ode to RENT)

I just need to unburden in a fantastic explosion. Now my soul feels lighter *authors afterthought*
Who do you think you are? Did you really think it wouldn’t get back to me, did you really think that my best friend wouldn’t tell me that you talk to her? Who do you think you are? When you cut somebody out of your life the way you did to me you cut out all the people that are close to them. You cut out their family, you cut out their friends, you cut out the people that love them. You don’t get advice you don’t get counsel you don’t get the privilege of talking to the people that they mean the most to. You think you can apologize for the things that you did to my best friend and have it not get back to me? You think that she’s the one that deserves the apology and not me? You left, without word without notice without and I’m sorry. You gave me the illusion that everything was going to be ok. You promised my children, you promised me, you promise the world that you would always be there. And look at what happened, you lied. You lied to everyone. You said don’t worry about it it’s just a test to see what’ll happen. I’m just saying these things to see what the response would be. I’m still standing here right? And then you left and said you needed to clear your head but that everything would be ok. You lied! You told my son that not a day would go by that he couldn’t pick up the phone and callyou. You lied to him. You told him that you would always be his person. And you’re not. You told my daughter you would always be there for her. And you’re not. You lied to the world. And I had to carry that burden because I cared about you. Well you know what, I don’t care anymore. I’m better than that. I stopped lying, I was honest, I believed in you. You don’t get that privilege anymore. You destroyed every ounce of faith I had in you. Because you broke your word. You said I was better off without you, you said the kids were better off without you. Well you know what? You were right! I hid you from the world, I held you when you cried, i listened to everything that went through your head, I covered up your lie, I thought I was doing something for the greater good. I thought that your life would be better with us in it. And it would have because we loved you. But I did everything on the good faith that you would stick around because I believed in you. You told me you weren’t good enough, you told me that I was better than that, you told me you would never force me to lie. And you didn’t force me (just pled that i perpetuate it) and i did, I did it because I believed that was the right thing to do. And you know what it was for awhile, until I realized that I was only hurting myself and the people I cared about. So I let you go and I am better now for it. But you don’t get the privilege of talking to my friends. And you don’t get the privilege of unburdening yourself and apologizing to the people that don’t need your apologies. The people that deserve an apology are my children. And the people that you should admit your lies to…well I guess that’s none of my business anymore. I’m done, I’m so done, I was done before I wrote this and this is the last time I’m going to talk directly to you because I don’t even know if you deserve this many words. It’s sad when somebody you loved so much shows you their true colors and everybody else saw them before you did.