Once upon a time there was a young girl who never quite felt at home in her own skin...
Sound familiar?
For so many I'm sure it does, but why?
After some fifty years I'm finally comfortable. I've done a lot of work to get here, to this point in my life, that I can reasonably say that. This blog will explore how I arrived at this point and maybe help you feel a little more at home in your own skin.
The funny thing about self discovery is all the wrong turns and false starts. I have had my share of them and even now though I am comfortable with what I know it can change in the blink of an eye. It's almost liquid moving and flowing like water, changing direction and carving new paths. Some barely noticeable some as deep as the Grand Canyon. Embrace the change and flow with it. You can go mental fighting it.
I was for all intents and purposes I was raised Catholic. I attended Mass with my mom and my Nanny and Grandpa McKnight. I wasn't baptised Catholic until I was in if memory serves grade seven. I was old enough to make the decision myself but more so I made it because it's what I felt would make my grand parents and mom happy. My dad was "non-religious" for the most part. He was Anglican but really didn't subscribe to any particular religious belief, unless of course it meant the opportunity to debate the bible with Nanny McKnight.
Needless to say it was my choice and to this day I am still happy with it. I don't attend church, my beliefs have evolved and my views of what is preached would probably tick off the clergy so I stay away and keep my mouth shut. Well most of the time. I have voiced my opinion in debate with those who try to convert me or have me conform to their ideal. I will not be swayed, I do not take my beliefs lightly nor do I force them down others throats. Each to his/her own I say and leave it at that.
If I didn't know then what I know now I would say my grandmother is flipping in her grave with what I'm writing. But with my many years of experience I can honestly say that I know unequivocally that my grandparents are fine with my beliefs, beliefs that began their transformation the day my grandmother died.
It was September 2, 1990, three months before my 24th birthday. I was at my first husbands house, we were just dating at the time when I got the phone call at around 6:30am it was a Sunday. My dad was on the other end and I knew right away something was very wrong. My dad never called, it was always mom. All he said, all he could manage to choke out, two words I will never forget..."Nanny's gone." I can hear his strained voice now as I type this and it stirs the same sorrow I have felt over the years when I think about her.
I instantly went into shock, became very cold and detached. I did not break down, that would come the next day. I took down my mom and uncles flight information. I was living in Toronto at the time and my grandparents had moved to Trenton only eight months prior to live with my Auntie Carol and Uncle Bob. The drive from Toronto to Trenton usually took about an hour and a half depending on traffic. I got there in forty five minutes but don't recall the drive. I had to be doing at least 140km/hr normally my mom would have been freaking out over the speed but she didn't say a word the entire drive.
It was when I saw my grandpa that's when it hit and the tears flowed and didn't stop for a really really long time, years even. The magnitude of our loss was reflected in his eyes. She was his world his life partner the love of his life, the mother of his children, his best friend and she was gone. In three sharp gasps she vanished. Or that's what we perceived. She's still very present, in our hearts and thoughts. She's whispering in our ear and gently guiding us from beyond.
I believe that when we are done here we return "home" call it what you will but earth is a giant class room and we are here to learn life's lessons so that when we return home we can use what we've learned to help others. So with my grandmothers death she returned home but has remained present in her family's lives for the past almost twenty nine years.
A little side story that confirms her presence. When my daughter was around two she was singing Ba Ba Black Sheep. I didn't recall teaching her the song so I asked if she learned it at daycare. She replied, "No, the lady sings it to me in my room." Of course alarmed I asked, "what lady? What's her name?" her reply almost caused me to drop her. She paused and thought for a moment and said, "Sounds like happy." Well, if you read my first entry you will know that my grandmothers nickname was Cappy. I still get goose bumps thinking about this. My niece Justine who was born a year after my grandmothers death had a very long relationship with my grandmother and would talk to her and see her on a regular basis.
So to those who say there is no life after death, I disagree. I've had several conversations with both my grandparents since their deaths. In fact they leave dimes around the house, and not just for me but other members of their family. In fact these dimes will seemingly appear out of thin air, you can literally be looking at, lets say, a table top one moment turn you head and turn back and bam, there it is. The game now is, if it's heads (the Queen) it's Nanny tails (the Bluenose) Grandpa. I always say hi and thanks.
All that being said I have worked long and hard to arrive at this point and my journey was, well, interesting to say the least. Each subsequent blog will detail those experiences, accomplishments and setbacks. My spiritual journey began when I was a child was derailed when I was twenty three and rediscovered after the birth of my daughter six years later. That's where I'll start. The time in between were the lost years, the failed marriages, the discovery of who I thought was my soul mate and several failed attempts at bettering my life and myself. This was a period that I could sit and wallow in but I choose not to, it lead me slowly to my starting point and I will only give it credit for that.
T :)
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Allow Me To Introduce Myself
The name I was given at birth is Tammy Lyn Monahan (Troughton is my ex-husbands name). My parents thought they were being clever by dropping one of the n's in my middle name. The funny thing is I always spelt it with two n's it was like that on my drivers license up until about 2003 when I discovered or rather it was pointed out that it didn't match my birth certificate.
I was born in Montreal Quebec, I'm not french, December 9th 1967 four weeks early. My mom hemorrhaged in the middle of the night and was rushed to the hospital from her home in Two Mountains to St. Mary's Hospital in Montreal. Every year on my birthday my mom recounts my traumatic birth. How the doctors assuming I was dead, told my dad and grandparents that they were just working to save my mom. Boy did they get a shock when I came out screaming! I was meant to be and because of the circumstance of my birth I know this beyond a shadow of a doubt.
I have one sibling, a sister her name is Leigh-Ann, again my parents and their creativity. We are nothing alike, she's three and a half years younger and takes after my dad's side of the family. Or at least that's what we initially thought because of her naturally dark skin and general looks. What I mean when I say initially is... My sister went to the dentist, this dentist was an elementary school friend of hers and when he started his exam commented that he didn't know there was African in her family. Her surprised reply was, "There's not, why would you think that?" he went on to explain that she has purple gums a common trait in Africans. So where did this come from? We knew little about my paternal grandmothers family. Her dad died when she was four and because of hard times was sent to live with her aunt.
After some questioning of cousins we discovered that my grandmothers oldest sister had beaded hair, meaning there were little beads along the strands of each hair, another African trait, or trait of someone with wiry curly hair. This was starting to make sense. My grandmother had naturally wavy thick black hair, her brother had basically an Afro and their parents were American from North Dakota. Her mother, my great grandmother had an intense hatred of African Americans and this may explain why. Her ancestor's were from Spain and quite possibly there was a mixed relationship there, or at the very least the offspring of a mixed relationship. Either way, my sisters dark skin, rounded nose, purple gums and beaded hair are inherited from my mom's side of the family.
When people ask me what nationality I am of course I say proudly I am Canadian, my ancestry is Irish and Spanish, mostly Irish, maybe some Scottish and Native thrown in for good measure but mostly Irish and I'm proud of that too. One day I will research my grandmothers family tree just to find out were the African came in.
In 1974 my parents packed up and left their little town in Quebec for an even littler town in British Columbia, Quesnel, ever heard of it? Well this tiny mill town is about 660km north of Vancouver. The main industry logging. My dad and his brother arrived in Quesnel first and landed jobs at a newly opened pulp and paper mill from which both have retired. My mom, sister, aunt, three cousins and me arrived a few months later by train. A four day ride I will likely never forget. In fact I even remember our porter, as slight African Canadian gentleman by the name of George. I remember he was nice to us kids and we were a handful being cooped up like that for so long. Well for kids it was long.
I remember my youngest cousin on the trip Ronnie (Ron now that he's an adult) swallowing a ice cube whole at dinner or maybe lunch, and him crying because it hurt so much, he was three. I remember wearing the little 45 vinyl records on our ears pretending to be Mickey Mouse. I remember staring out the window at the prairies and marveling at how flat the land was. I don't recall our arrival in Quesnel but that's ok I lived there twelve years, about twelve years too long.
I'm not complaining I just wonder, had my parents settled in Vancouver how different my life might have turned out. But it wasn't my decision to make and I have to be thankful for the childhood I had. Parents make decisions that affect their children all the time, that's kind of their job and as kids it is our job to respect and accept these decisions even if we don't understand them. It's easy for me to look back now and make such a comment but honestly it wasn't a bad place to grow up. It just didn't offer the opportunities a big city does.
A year after we arrived in Quesnel my mom's parents, Frank and Captolia (Cappy) McKnight, moved from Quebec to join us. My grandfather had worked as an Aeronautical Engineer for Canadair for thirty years and was laid off when they sold to Bombardier. At that time the economy in BC was booming so they packed up and moved. Part of the reason Quesnel was the final destination was my grandmothers youngest sister Violet (Vi) lived there with her family. In fact we moved into the same trailer park they lived in and owned the general store in. Big Country Trailer Park. It's pretty much gone now, well kind of. It's still a trailer park but now it's mostly pre-fab homes, much nicer. So yes, I lived in a trailer park for a short while. So did a lot of people back then. I wouldn't categorize myself as "Trailer Trash" though. That's an unfair stereotype.
My parents were young when my sister and I were born. My mom (Wendy) was nineteen my dad (Robert - Bob) twenty three when I was born. I always thought this a good thing when I was young. I had the youngest parents amongst my friends I thought it was cool and so did they. Thinking back now though it must have been tough for them missing out on their twenties to raise two girls one of which was ADHD with learning differences (my sister not me) I 'lived' my twenties opting to have my kids later, I was 29 when my daughter Veronica was born and three months from 31 when my son Declan was born. I'm glad I waited.
As I was saying, we moved to Quesnel when I was six, I grew up there and at the ripe old age of 18 left for Toronto three days after graduating high school. Crazy yup, but I was convinced I knew what I was doing. I moved there at the prompting of my then single Auntie Carol, my mom's older sister. She thought it would be a great opportunity for me and it was only supposed to be for a year, I was there almost six years returning to BC in 1992. My boyfriend at the time, Robb, moved to Toronto with me. We both got jobs and three months later my Aunt moved to Trenton Ontario to live with the widowed man she had met that May. My uncle Bob, they got married the following May and are still in that tiny eastern Ontario town in the same house as when they first were together.
So now Robb and I are on our own. We're 18 and 19 and knew everything, boy were we wrong! We lived together in my aunts apartment for two years, we had inherited all her furniture and the one bedroom North York apartment where the rent was a mere $375.00 a month! Unheard of in Toronto. When that particular relationship ended I kept the apartment, after all she was my aunt. It was not a pretty break up. I did a bad bad thing and was seeing someone else before actually ending it. I got caught. I deserved it though I should have been up front and ended it when I found out that he had cheated on me then had the nerve to tell me he didn't trust me. Ironic really. Needless to say, to this day we are still on speaking terms so it's all water under the bridge, young and stupid right?
In fact with the exception of my first husband I'm still friends with all my ex's, Robb, Mark, Mike. Phil, I don't need to be friends with. That marriage lasted two years and when it ended I drove him to sky train, went and picked up the moving van, packed up my belongings and left him a dear John letter. Throw me against the wall will you? Well, the one thing I won't tolerate is physical abuse. Mental on the other hand apparently I do tolerate. My thirteen year relationship with my second husband, Mike, the father of my two children was exactly that. Oh, he would claim differently but anyone who knows him knows what he's really like. They either accept him or have nothing to do with him if they can help it.
I'm a little bitter about that one yes, but it was definitely the one relationship that encouraged me to self assess and to pursue my spiritual journey which I will explore in subsequent blogs but I feel if you know who I am, if I lay it all out, open my closet and let out the skeletons you will have a better understanding of what I've experienced in my pursuit of all things spiritual.
Needless to say, from this relationship I have my beautiful children, well not such children any more Veronica will be 14 in March and Declan 13 in September. My how the time flies. I remember their births like it was yesterday. A happier day. My introvert (Veronica) and my extrovert (Declan) so very different, polar opposites.
Veronica is exceptional her brains surpassed only by her beauty a beauty only recently realised with her signing with a modeling agency this past November. She's set to do well at 5'10" and 14yrs old, by the time she's ready for Europe she should be close if not 6' tall, and her look "matured" to what the industry demands. She's starting high school next year and is contemplating attending Port Moody Secondary because they offer the International Baccalaureate program. This is a program for honour students where grade twelve is the equivalent to first year university and actually counts as university credit. She wants to be a doctor and I honestly think she will be. She may be an introvert but she's determined and very strong willed.
Declan is exceptional in his own way, he's charming and funny but sadly challenged. They have found that ADHD is a hereditary trait, well having a sister who's ADHD this should come as no surprise that my son is too, along with learning challenges and the possibility of Autism looming over head his academic life is a struggle. He's a handsome boy though, with gorgeous blue/green eyes framed with dark eyelashes he's gonna break hearts when he hits high school. He loves to cook so his dad and I are hoping he follows that career path, he wants to be a police officer in the K9 unit. Why K9? So he can have his own dog. I tried to explain that he doesn't need to be a cop to have a dog. When he's an adult he can have as many dogs as he wants. He doesn't get that.
My kids are a very important part of my life. My decisions are based on how it may or may not affect them, well most of my decisions. I do make some without that consideration. They are my priority, but I'm my priority too and sometimes I get selfish.
My current relationship is definitely the easiest I've encountered. You know the expression opposites attract? Well that's only true for magnets. Mike and I were complete opposites he was the extrovert I the introvert. The attraction was very strong for me, I can't speak for him though considering how we ended. We were far too opposite right down to our parenting style which caused a fair number of fights between us. My current partner Lars and I are so alike it's scary. We are both introverts him not as much as me. We are both Sagittarius which in my opinion is fantastic because he understands me at a level only another Sage is capable of. And we were married to the same person. Not literally of course.
Our ex's draw astonishing similarity in personality and forced tolerance towards their respective ex spouses. Interesting how two people can fall in love, get married have children then hate each other so much that they can barely tolerate being in the same room. Mike and I are on relatively good terms, we speak almost daily but it's usually geared around the kids. Some times personal topics arise and never ever do we discuss what happened between us. We have very differing opinions on that so we just leave well enough alone. Don't get me wrong though we have discussed it and it has ended in a screaming match so rather than endure that again we buried it.
Lars and his ex-wife from what I can surmise have never had a "why?" discussion and they probably never will. Although it devastated him when she ended their marriage. He sees now that it was ultimately the best for him. Maybe not for his kids but for him. I too feel it was the best for me to leave Mike but also best for our kids. They were growing up in a home where treating your spouse like crap was becoming the norm and I couldn't have them learning that. So as it is, the way it is now my kids are far happier I'm sure they still wish for their parents to be together but I know deep down that I can never trust Mike again. He has not and will not change he just plays his game then BAM! his true colours shine though.
As for Lars and his ex, I think they could have salvaged their relationship if they had both been willing to try. Their biggest problem was communication, they didn't have the all out wars that Mike and I had they just didn't agree and were both too stubborn to compromise. Lars has told me that he worshiped her, that he would have done anything for her but his absolute best was never enough for her. Damn I wish Mike had felt that way about me. At best I was an annoyance he had to live with, like a wart in an uncomfortable spot. I never felt loved by Mike, and after a while I gave up trying to make him love me. Like leading a horse to water right?
Now that I am with Lars I can appreciate what it's like to have someone who truly loves you and would do anything for you albeit guardedly he has become somewhat jaded but he tries. Pretty much everything I ask for I get and he really doesn't ask for much in return or expect anything in return. The sad part of our relationship, the part I would change if I could is his cynicism. His "I don't give a crap what anyone thinks" attitude, anyone including me but excluding his ex-wife. That's the part that hurts because I know that it's that attitude that will eventually kill our relationship.
We started out enduring a lot of unfortunate circumstances that may be common in blended family situations but certainly unexpected on my part. I have a tendency to see the world through rose coloured glasses, well they were slapped from my face early on in our relationship but we've managed to keep it together. There were some very close calls but we worked through them and are starting our fourth year together. How long it lasts is any ones guess but for now we're strong and happy and that's all I can ask.
So this is me in a nut shell, a little history and insight into who I am, where I'm at and a reference point for the blogs to come. My intent for this blog is to be open and candid about my spiritual journey and all that you've just read is key to that journey. I'm going to be very diplomatic about what I say about others. I do have very set strong opinions that are better kept to myself but for the sake of my authenticity you need to know that I have very little tolerance to bullies, and I don't mean the kind in school I mean any kind of individual who feels entitled to demean or berate another soul on this planet in order to elevate their selfish ego.
Shall we begin?
T:)
I was born in Montreal Quebec, I'm not french, December 9th 1967 four weeks early. My mom hemorrhaged in the middle of the night and was rushed to the hospital from her home in Two Mountains to St. Mary's Hospital in Montreal. Every year on my birthday my mom recounts my traumatic birth. How the doctors assuming I was dead, told my dad and grandparents that they were just working to save my mom. Boy did they get a shock when I came out screaming! I was meant to be and because of the circumstance of my birth I know this beyond a shadow of a doubt.
I have one sibling, a sister her name is Leigh-Ann, again my parents and their creativity. We are nothing alike, she's three and a half years younger and takes after my dad's side of the family. Or at least that's what we initially thought because of her naturally dark skin and general looks. What I mean when I say initially is... My sister went to the dentist, this dentist was an elementary school friend of hers and when he started his exam commented that he didn't know there was African in her family. Her surprised reply was, "There's not, why would you think that?" he went on to explain that she has purple gums a common trait in Africans. So where did this come from? We knew little about my paternal grandmothers family. Her dad died when she was four and because of hard times was sent to live with her aunt.
After some questioning of cousins we discovered that my grandmothers oldest sister had beaded hair, meaning there were little beads along the strands of each hair, another African trait, or trait of someone with wiry curly hair. This was starting to make sense. My grandmother had naturally wavy thick black hair, her brother had basically an Afro and their parents were American from North Dakota. Her mother, my great grandmother had an intense hatred of African Americans and this may explain why. Her ancestor's were from Spain and quite possibly there was a mixed relationship there, or at the very least the offspring of a mixed relationship. Either way, my sisters dark skin, rounded nose, purple gums and beaded hair are inherited from my mom's side of the family.
When people ask me what nationality I am of course I say proudly I am Canadian, my ancestry is Irish and Spanish, mostly Irish, maybe some Scottish and Native thrown in for good measure but mostly Irish and I'm proud of that too. One day I will research my grandmothers family tree just to find out were the African came in.
In 1974 my parents packed up and left their little town in Quebec for an even littler town in British Columbia, Quesnel, ever heard of it? Well this tiny mill town is about 660km north of Vancouver. The main industry logging. My dad and his brother arrived in Quesnel first and landed jobs at a newly opened pulp and paper mill from which both have retired. My mom, sister, aunt, three cousins and me arrived a few months later by train. A four day ride I will likely never forget. In fact I even remember our porter, as slight African Canadian gentleman by the name of George. I remember he was nice to us kids and we were a handful being cooped up like that for so long. Well for kids it was long.
I remember my youngest cousin on the trip Ronnie (Ron now that he's an adult) swallowing a ice cube whole at dinner or maybe lunch, and him crying because it hurt so much, he was three. I remember wearing the little 45 vinyl records on our ears pretending to be Mickey Mouse. I remember staring out the window at the prairies and marveling at how flat the land was. I don't recall our arrival in Quesnel but that's ok I lived there twelve years, about twelve years too long.
I'm not complaining I just wonder, had my parents settled in Vancouver how different my life might have turned out. But it wasn't my decision to make and I have to be thankful for the childhood I had. Parents make decisions that affect their children all the time, that's kind of their job and as kids it is our job to respect and accept these decisions even if we don't understand them. It's easy for me to look back now and make such a comment but honestly it wasn't a bad place to grow up. It just didn't offer the opportunities a big city does.
A year after we arrived in Quesnel my mom's parents, Frank and Captolia (Cappy) McKnight, moved from Quebec to join us. My grandfather had worked as an Aeronautical Engineer for Canadair for thirty years and was laid off when they sold to Bombardier. At that time the economy in BC was booming so they packed up and moved. Part of the reason Quesnel was the final destination was my grandmothers youngest sister Violet (Vi) lived there with her family. In fact we moved into the same trailer park they lived in and owned the general store in. Big Country Trailer Park. It's pretty much gone now, well kind of. It's still a trailer park but now it's mostly pre-fab homes, much nicer. So yes, I lived in a trailer park for a short while. So did a lot of people back then. I wouldn't categorize myself as "Trailer Trash" though. That's an unfair stereotype.
My parents were young when my sister and I were born. My mom (Wendy) was nineteen my dad (Robert - Bob) twenty three when I was born. I always thought this a good thing when I was young. I had the youngest parents amongst my friends I thought it was cool and so did they. Thinking back now though it must have been tough for them missing out on their twenties to raise two girls one of which was ADHD with learning differences (my sister not me) I 'lived' my twenties opting to have my kids later, I was 29 when my daughter Veronica was born and three months from 31 when my son Declan was born. I'm glad I waited.
As I was saying, we moved to Quesnel when I was six, I grew up there and at the ripe old age of 18 left for Toronto three days after graduating high school. Crazy yup, but I was convinced I knew what I was doing. I moved there at the prompting of my then single Auntie Carol, my mom's older sister. She thought it would be a great opportunity for me and it was only supposed to be for a year, I was there almost six years returning to BC in 1992. My boyfriend at the time, Robb, moved to Toronto with me. We both got jobs and three months later my Aunt moved to Trenton Ontario to live with the widowed man she had met that May. My uncle Bob, they got married the following May and are still in that tiny eastern Ontario town in the same house as when they first were together.
So now Robb and I are on our own. We're 18 and 19 and knew everything, boy were we wrong! We lived together in my aunts apartment for two years, we had inherited all her furniture and the one bedroom North York apartment where the rent was a mere $375.00 a month! Unheard of in Toronto. When that particular relationship ended I kept the apartment, after all she was my aunt. It was not a pretty break up. I did a bad bad thing and was seeing someone else before actually ending it. I got caught. I deserved it though I should have been up front and ended it when I found out that he had cheated on me then had the nerve to tell me he didn't trust me. Ironic really. Needless to say, to this day we are still on speaking terms so it's all water under the bridge, young and stupid right?
In fact with the exception of my first husband I'm still friends with all my ex's, Robb, Mark, Mike. Phil, I don't need to be friends with. That marriage lasted two years and when it ended I drove him to sky train, went and picked up the moving van, packed up my belongings and left him a dear John letter. Throw me against the wall will you? Well, the one thing I won't tolerate is physical abuse. Mental on the other hand apparently I do tolerate. My thirteen year relationship with my second husband, Mike, the father of my two children was exactly that. Oh, he would claim differently but anyone who knows him knows what he's really like. They either accept him or have nothing to do with him if they can help it.
I'm a little bitter about that one yes, but it was definitely the one relationship that encouraged me to self assess and to pursue my spiritual journey which I will explore in subsequent blogs but I feel if you know who I am, if I lay it all out, open my closet and let out the skeletons you will have a better understanding of what I've experienced in my pursuit of all things spiritual.
Needless to say, from this relationship I have my beautiful children, well not such children any more Veronica will be 14 in March and Declan 13 in September. My how the time flies. I remember their births like it was yesterday. A happier day. My introvert (Veronica) and my extrovert (Declan) so very different, polar opposites.
Veronica is exceptional her brains surpassed only by her beauty a beauty only recently realised with her signing with a modeling agency this past November. She's set to do well at 5'10" and 14yrs old, by the time she's ready for Europe she should be close if not 6' tall, and her look "matured" to what the industry demands. She's starting high school next year and is contemplating attending Port Moody Secondary because they offer the International Baccalaureate program. This is a program for honour students where grade twelve is the equivalent to first year university and actually counts as university credit. She wants to be a doctor and I honestly think she will be. She may be an introvert but she's determined and very strong willed.
Declan is exceptional in his own way, he's charming and funny but sadly challenged. They have found that ADHD is a hereditary trait, well having a sister who's ADHD this should come as no surprise that my son is too, along with learning challenges and the possibility of Autism looming over head his academic life is a struggle. He's a handsome boy though, with gorgeous blue/green eyes framed with dark eyelashes he's gonna break hearts when he hits high school. He loves to cook so his dad and I are hoping he follows that career path, he wants to be a police officer in the K9 unit. Why K9? So he can have his own dog. I tried to explain that he doesn't need to be a cop to have a dog. When he's an adult he can have as many dogs as he wants. He doesn't get that.
My kids are a very important part of my life. My decisions are based on how it may or may not affect them, well most of my decisions. I do make some without that consideration. They are my priority, but I'm my priority too and sometimes I get selfish.
My current relationship is definitely the easiest I've encountered. You know the expression opposites attract? Well that's only true for magnets. Mike and I were complete opposites he was the extrovert I the introvert. The attraction was very strong for me, I can't speak for him though considering how we ended. We were far too opposite right down to our parenting style which caused a fair number of fights between us. My current partner Lars and I are so alike it's scary. We are both introverts him not as much as me. We are both Sagittarius which in my opinion is fantastic because he understands me at a level only another Sage is capable of. And we were married to the same person. Not literally of course.
Our ex's draw astonishing similarity in personality and forced tolerance towards their respective ex spouses. Interesting how two people can fall in love, get married have children then hate each other so much that they can barely tolerate being in the same room. Mike and I are on relatively good terms, we speak almost daily but it's usually geared around the kids. Some times personal topics arise and never ever do we discuss what happened between us. We have very differing opinions on that so we just leave well enough alone. Don't get me wrong though we have discussed it and it has ended in a screaming match so rather than endure that again we buried it.
Lars and his ex-wife from what I can surmise have never had a "why?" discussion and they probably never will. Although it devastated him when she ended their marriage. He sees now that it was ultimately the best for him. Maybe not for his kids but for him. I too feel it was the best for me to leave Mike but also best for our kids. They were growing up in a home where treating your spouse like crap was becoming the norm and I couldn't have them learning that. So as it is, the way it is now my kids are far happier I'm sure they still wish for their parents to be together but I know deep down that I can never trust Mike again. He has not and will not change he just plays his game then BAM! his true colours shine though.
As for Lars and his ex, I think they could have salvaged their relationship if they had both been willing to try. Their biggest problem was communication, they didn't have the all out wars that Mike and I had they just didn't agree and were both too stubborn to compromise. Lars has told me that he worshiped her, that he would have done anything for her but his absolute best was never enough for her. Damn I wish Mike had felt that way about me. At best I was an annoyance he had to live with, like a wart in an uncomfortable spot. I never felt loved by Mike, and after a while I gave up trying to make him love me. Like leading a horse to water right?
Now that I am with Lars I can appreciate what it's like to have someone who truly loves you and would do anything for you albeit guardedly he has become somewhat jaded but he tries. Pretty much everything I ask for I get and he really doesn't ask for much in return or expect anything in return. The sad part of our relationship, the part I would change if I could is his cynicism. His "I don't give a crap what anyone thinks" attitude, anyone including me but excluding his ex-wife. That's the part that hurts because I know that it's that attitude that will eventually kill our relationship.
We started out enduring a lot of unfortunate circumstances that may be common in blended family situations but certainly unexpected on my part. I have a tendency to see the world through rose coloured glasses, well they were slapped from my face early on in our relationship but we've managed to keep it together. There were some very close calls but we worked through them and are starting our fourth year together. How long it lasts is any ones guess but for now we're strong and happy and that's all I can ask.
So this is me in a nut shell, a little history and insight into who I am, where I'm at and a reference point for the blogs to come. My intent for this blog is to be open and candid about my spiritual journey and all that you've just read is key to that journey. I'm going to be very diplomatic about what I say about others. I do have very set strong opinions that are better kept to myself but for the sake of my authenticity you need to know that I have very little tolerance to bullies, and I don't mean the kind in school I mean any kind of individual who feels entitled to demean or berate another soul on this planet in order to elevate their selfish ego.
Shall we begin?
T:)
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