House of A Writer

Welcome to my blog where I share my special needs parenting journey with my heart, truth, and love, one story at a time. ❤️

Safe

My favourite place at the end of my day is in my husband’s arms. He makes me feel safe, loved, and cherished. We’ve been together a long time it’s hard for me to imagine life before him. There was a time when I didn’t feel safe to give my heart to anyone. I had countless boyfriends cheat on me and still want a relationship with me. That’s not how I operate its loyalty, monogamy, or nothing. I had a very verbally abusive ex who I began to not feel safe with. At first when we were dating everything was great, than that nagging feeling in the back of my thoughts will plague me. As the relationship progressed I thought I could change things when I he became sullen and moody. I wouldn’t talk when he wanted quiet, I wouldn’t talk to anyone when he wanted me by his side. We had one class together in high school and I was intrigued by him. He was a two  years older than me and I wasn’t shy and made friends easily. He liked what he saw in me so we began dating. At first it was new, fun, and exciting then like everything in life the bloom was fading from the rose. He started to show his true colors through his jealousy. I thought that I could change him by changing myself. This became a pattern of my obsession to improve myself. Better hair, makeup, clothes, and becoming fitter. I began to not recognize that person in the mirror as I slept less, ate more, and worked out religiously. In his kind moments that were fleeting, he’d tell me I looked so good I was good enough to eat. I didn’t really know what to think of that, I was 16 years old and never thought of myself as I prey before… It was really bizarre I remember one time hanging out with him and we were in his car. He was kissing and cuddling and watching the luminescent moon over the water. It was beautiful and romantic but it escalated quickly to tugging, pulling, and pinning me down. He wanted much more than I was willing to give. I of course said no loud and clear and he continued to press me further. I felt cornered and I came out fighting and punched him in the face and got out of the car. I started to run but he had my leg and my shoe came off in his hand. It was dark, scary, rocky, and I felt very unsafe. I didn’t know where I was as this was the first time I had been to this area.  I managed to climb up on some rocks while he tried to talk me down. I could smell him and see his thick, shrouded, aura emanating from him as he walked away. He got in his car and he left, roared out of there while I was huddled up on a rock in a skirt and sandals. I stayed up there and prayed for some resolution. These were the days before everyone had cell phones to capture their every move. I knew I couldn’t spend the night there and I was going to be in a lot of trouble because it was way past my curfew. I started to climb down and make my way across the rocks to the road. My feet were so sore and I had developed a blister. I was so scared and longed for the safety of my home and my bed. I trudged on and tried to shield myself from the icy cold wind blowing off the water. All I had to cover myself was my jean jacket. I was dressed to attend a dance which I did that my boyfriend was working at. I continued walking along the road praying that someone safe would find me. Suddenly there was bright lights heading towards me and I continued walking, then the car drove past me and I could hear tires squealing as it headed towards me. I ran as fast as I could and I heard music blaring then dead silence. I wasn’t safe but I knew I needed help. Then I heard my name being called it was my boyfriends friend and he told me he was looking all over for me. He was told I had a bitch fit and ran away. He drove me back home and I talked less and listened more. I felt relieved to be able to escape that debacle. I knew my ex was moody, was used to getting his own way, and every intuitive thought screamed at me to run not walk, away from him. As soon as I arrived home and thanked my ride for rescuing me I sat down and took a hard look at my life. I wrote down five things that I wanted for myself. 

  • 1. I wanted to feel safe. 
  • 2. I wanted to be with someone who loved, respected, and cared about my well being. 
  • 3. I wanted to feel comfortable in my own skin. 
  • 4. I needed to take care of myself mentally, emotionally, and physically. 
  • 5. I would never try to change a person again, and pay more attention to my empathic feelings. 

I took this list and then wrote a letter goodbye. I read it to my ex and we parted ways. There was apologies and attempts to win me over with charm and gifts. I looked at the list I had made and stuck to my guns, and didn’t give in. Fast forward twenty-five years in time and I’ve met, fallen in love, and created a life with a wonderful man who is on my list. He’s my soft, safe, place to fall when my world is scary. He loves, respects, and cares about my well being as well as our children. My husband makes me feel comfortable in my skin by showing me he’s comfortable in his. He gives me outlets to take care of myself mentally, emotionally, and physically. And when I’m not he makes sure I get more sleep, flowers, chocolate, dessert, and movie nights for just the two of us. I never try to change him, I just love him for who he is. Sure there are times I wish he’d fold some laundry, but that’s  minor in the long term view of our relationship. He helps me be a better, woman, wife, Mom, and friend. And knowing that he loves all of me, even the scary parts of my personality is a gift. I feel safe in knowing I’m loved and safe with him. ?

This has been my submission to www.morethancheeseandbeer.com Sunday confessions. Which I know it’s Thursday now. I wrote and saved it but couldn’t find it till now. Please check out the anonymous confession on Ash’s Facebook page and all the other talent that link up. Thank you. ? 


 

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Ode to my Mom

Elizabeth Louise was her name.
Loved by everyone who knew her.
Intrinsically gifted with humour and the gift of gab.
Zealous with her love, honesty, and faith.
Amazing with her glowing light of virtue and trust.
Beautiful beyond measure inside and out.
Eloquently soft spoken with a sharp wit.
Talented, gifted, devoted to the ones she loved.
Heart of gold, my best friend, and heroine of my dreams.

This is a poem for my beloved Mama. She was my gift, to my siblings, and the world. Today I wrote this poem for her as part of my Day 3 Blogging 201 assignment. The word trust was the prompt and in the acrostic form of poetry.

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Through my Mamas eyes

I look in the mirror and I see my Mom’s face looking back at me. I have her kind, blue, shining eyes, her strong prominent nose, and her lovely lips that spoke the kindest words and covered my boos boos with her kisses. I look at her and want to dive into that mirror and live a thousand lifetimes with her again. Say all the words that were never spoken, ask all the questions I was afraid to ask, and hold her and never let her go. I talk to my Mom always, she knows my daily life, my passions, my cursing jags, and the tears I cry when I’m giving into my pain. She sees my smile and laughter when I’m playing with my precious sons. My acrobatic acts while playing Wii, my screams and giggles when wrestling with them on the floor, and the loving prayers we say at night. She knows their habits, their idiosyncrasies that make them so special and unique. And I know she’s there watching always and cheering them on in their victories. By giving them ethereal hugs and high fives, and always her love and pride. I know she holds me through my sadness, picks me up when I’ve fallen down, and chastises me for how much I drink. ? It’s the things that make me thing that she’s not really gone. And when I’m feeling pure abundant joy she’s there dancing with me, singing silly songs with my kids, and feeling my heart grow with love for them everyday. I see her, I hear her, and I feel her nearby. She’s never far from my thoughts, my heart, or my soul. She bathes me in her kindness, compassion, and strength. My Mom lets me know she’s there with angel messages, birds, butterflies, and music. I hear an Elvis song when I’m deep in thought and grief over her. I feel that love she has for me as I listen to the sweet, soft, melody of Love Me Tender sung so beautifully by her favourite idol. I feel comfort at these times knowing she’s always here with me. And she shares the love with my other siblings and their families. My Mom had the greatest capacity to love, she also could swear a blue streak when she wasn’t feeling in love with something or someone. She could reduce me to laughter in minutes when she’d get into one of her cursing tirades. She would look at me with fury in her eyes but a smile creeping into her lips. It was easy to love and laugh so easily with her. And difficult to stay angry for very long as we were so much alike. To Mom a bad day could be cured with a nice cup of tea, a pastry, laughter, and the gift of song. She was an enigma once you spent time with her you were changed forever. She had a gift of the gab, a flair for the dramatic, and a beautiful voice whether she was singing or speaking. I’d love to sing with her again like those carefree days and feel that power of music uplifting my soul. Instead I have to settle for looking in the mirror and have her smiling back at me. Love you Mama always and forever. ?

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Image found on Facebook and shated here because I agree!

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