For as long as I can remember

For as long as I can remember, I have been Christian in "Moulin Rouge". Driven by my, "ridiculous obsession with love."

For as long as I can remember, romantic relationships have been the thing. The quest for love has consumed, been the most desired, what I want most, the ultimate goal, and I (mostly) haven't thought twice about it, it simply was. But, if love's the thing, and the ultimate goal, that means I've put my ultimate happiness and measure of success in someone, and something else, for as long as I can remember.

With that gone, I am left up to my own devices to find out what else brings me joy.

I have spent the majority of my adult life in one long-term relationship after another, with virtually no breaks in between, from the time I was 19, until three years ago. You do the math. Married to two different people, yet spanning a decade total, I spent a part of my 20's and the better part of my 30's as someone's wife, in someone else's house, or working towards that, with someone else supporting me, and often, willingly giving to them the prime position...right at the helm to steer my ship.

I had two drastically different married experiences, for a whole bunch of reasons, but there were often times that I longed for what I didn't have. There were unsettled bits, flashes of longing for the lives I didn't choose, and the occasional pang that something still wasn't satisfied within me. I could never pinpoint it.

Those days are long behind me, and when I became a mom, all of the longing, the wondering, the restlessness, all but sealed up.

I also think about how even though I say I was single for the last three years, I truly wasn't for majority of that time. I was in a relationship with a court case. It was all consuming, and nearly killed me. I have only recently began to dip my toe in the pool of trust that I can relax, and flourish into a newfound life.

When I glimpse my strength, I am so full and satisfied with my ability to provide, and take care of myself, to do all the things I was made to feel I could never do...but also have emphasis on new aspects with my life and self, I am still re-shuffling, re-prioritizing, entire. Things are still shifting into place, and in many ways, I am only at the beginning of seeing where they will land.

This time leaves me to really figure it out, what I want, rather than choose what was really available and presenting itself, because now there is nothing to present, other than what I am creating.

It is a waiting game of learning, discovery, and being hopeful that life will still surprise me.

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12 Reasons why Female Empaths Have a Hard Time Finding the Right Man

At this point I assume these articles will make me roll my eyes, but still I click. Glad I did. I related to this one so very much. Called, "12 Reasons why Female Empaths Have a Hard Time Finding the Right Man". Credited from the original source: HERE and copied + pasted below:

Empaths take their relationships seriously. They date with the intention of finding true love, preferring to form meaningful bonds rather than dating around or having casual sex. 

Sometimes, being a female empath can put you at a disadvantage here; in an era of internet dating and hookups, you will probably have to wait longer to find your perfect match.

Let’s take a closer look at the reasons why female empaths struggle to meet the right man:

1. They have an unusually inquisitive mind

Empaths don’t care for small talk. They’d rather talk about philosophical issues than reality TV, for example. 

Any man they date needs to be intelligent and open-minded. These guys can be hard to find.

2. They are prone to strong, sometimes unpredictable mood shifts

Because they are easily influenced by their environment and other people’s emotions, an empath’s moods are liable to change with little warning. 

This can be hard for men to accept. Female empaths need partners who understand that they are unusually sensitive.

3. They aren’t afraid to show lots of love and affection

Open displays of affection can feel overwhelming, especially for men who have been raised to hide their emotions. 

A female empath might have to look for a long time to find a guy who is happy to share lots of hugs and kisses.

4. They expect commitment early

Empaths make up their minds quickly when it comes to committing to an exclusive relationship. They don’t hang around waiting for a man to choose them. 

They are highly self-aware, and prefer not to put themselves in dating limbo.

5. They are good at spotting liars

Lots of men embellish the truth or lie by omission, telling them what they want to hear. Empathic women pick up on inconsistencies and insincerity within minutes, and immediately lose all trust and respect they had for the guy. 

6. They can be too quick to take on a “fixer” role

Some female empaths have a tendency to choose men who are in great need of psychological, financial, or spiritual help. 

Even though it isn’t their responsibility to fix his life, they choose to adopt the role of therapist, bank, or nurse. This can result in unhealthy, one-sided relationships.

7. It takes time for them to get over past hurts

Because they are so sensitive, empaths can struggle to move on when they’ve been wronged. Although they are quick to forgive, they seldom forget. 

Because they are slow to trust someone new, they require a very patient partner. This can be hard to find. 

8. They need a man who is always true to his word

To win an empath’s heart, a man needs to keep his promises. Female empaths can’t cope with betrayal or violations of trust. 

She might overlook a couple of minor transgressions, but she won’t be able to tolerate a man who keeps changing his mind or canceling plans.

9. They are very honest

Empaths don’t sugarcoat the truth. If their partners ask for their opinion, they won’t hold back. 

This can be tough for a man to deal with, especially if he has a particularly fragile ego.

10. They are easily offended by harsh words

Every insult and unkind word pierces an empath’s heart. She can’t tolerate hostile conflict, and won’t stay long with a man who doesn’t know how to communicate respectfully. 

She needs a partner who can talk about relationship problems without becoming aggressive or dismissive.

11. They pour a lot of time and energy into their family and friends

Empaths are dedicated to their romantic relationships. However, they also prioritize family and friends. 

A female empath needs a man who appreciates that they won’t always come first.

12. They need a lot of time alone

ife as an empath is hard work. Empaths are affected by other people’s moods in every situation. For the sake of their mental and spiritual health, they need to recharge alone on a regular basis. 

Therefore, they need to search for a man who is secure enough to love an independent woman.

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Expansion, and being bound

I am looking at the moon, and thinking both of expansion, and being bound.

I forget. I so often forget that I am a Russian nesting doll, with so many lifetimes inside of me. I've lived in other cities, I've had a big life. Teardrops are here, and on the streets of New York.

How do you ever properly close a chapter? This one has been long. The one where I am a single mom. I've been a single mom, on my own for so long now, I can't imagine what it wouldn't be like.

This is the one where I own my own my own little condo. The space that I call home for myself, and my boy. This little space of the world. This tiny square of earth...how can it feel so small, and so vast?

I think of when I was in elementary, and I was so aware of the weight of my being and the space I took up. If I stood in the corner of my room, that is all I would occupy in the world. But I felt so much bigger than what I realized I was restricted to.

I think of how ancient I was, when I was new. I think of my boy, and wonder how he experiences his being, and wonder if he is aware of his vastness or his restriction.

I am many lives packed neatly into one, wondering how you ever say goodby, or move forward, propelled into the unknown again and again...

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Burn

The other night I dreamt my childhood home burned to the ground. I stood on top of the rubble, with other members of my family. I looked to each of them for a place to live, to be taken in. There was no one for me to stay with. Although in reality this home was sold shortly after I'd moved to New York, in my dream all of my belongings had still been in the house, and now they were gone. Everything I'd owned had burned, but I wasn't phased. In fact, I felt a relief. I could start fresh. I needed, and was attached to, nothing. Yet there was a realization of how special the walls of that home had been. What they had held was scared, and now it was gone...as if it had never stood there in the first place.

I've often documented my dreams, and the visions that have come to me in the in-between here. Some I understand the meaning of right away, and seem almost more real than reality.

This one makes sense. I've been in a state of emotional purging recently. A lot of gunk has built up inside me over the last few years. Trapped in me, I've been living with the sickness of it. PTSD, and anxiety. Physical manifestations that breathe down my neck daily, and dull my sparkle. Only recently has it started to pour out, mostly in the form of tears. This is unusual for me, to have bouts of crying. Sometimes full-on sobs. I have been in fight-or-flight for so long. I've had to hold off on letting it out due to the battles I've had to fight, raising my son, and simply not having the time. But lately it's leaking out, ready or not.

This isn't a bad thing. The webs are untangling inside from around my brain, and heart. The water from my tears is cleansing. "Make space. Clear the way." It whispers..

I have had a sense that a new page is just about to turn. The next chapter is so close. New players will enter, a new stage is set, and life begins, anew. I see white light where I once saw no color at all. I feel warmth right around the corner, coming to me from the opposite direction.

I have only felt on the verge like this one other time. I searched through my old posts until I found it, and wouldn't you know it, the date was February 2013 (here). Exactly one month before absolutely everything about my life changed in a million ways I never could have seen coming.

Is there a shedding of the skin every six or so years? I laugh to myself, remembering that every seven or so we literally become new people, as every cell in our body replaces itself with a new one.

Of course. 

I hope I'm right about this precipice. I have no reason to doubt. Everything I once had burned to the ground. I need nothing other than walls to house a sacred space, where that ends up is TBD.

But I stand calmly on the rubble.
A clean slate.
I don't feel loss.
I am not empty.
There is a hint of spring in the breeze.

I wait...

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One year later

One year. One year ago today my life blew up. It was instant. The loss happened so quickly, I was left gasping and scrambling. I am still processing. I am still very much grieving.

I made it through the year of firsts. Holidays. Birthdays. Every season. It's interesting what you think will hurt doesn't, and what sneaks up on you with a kick to the guts. Christmas was fine, but the Tulip Festival was another story. The closing of the old bowling alley, a certain hotel in Vegas changing it's name...confirmation that my old life was over.

It's been one year since we were all under the same roof.
It's been one year since there was a real face-to-face conversation.

For one year I've avoided almost all the old haunts.
I had no energy left to spare to enjoy a lot of the things I once enjoyed.
I spent a year without my roller skates.

I've spent a lot of time feeling broken. Foggy. Scared. Bullied. Feeling that a lot of what had been the most meaningful in my life was now for naught. Wondering if I am supposed to go on living. Missing my old self. Wishing for the confidence and creativity I once had to return. Feeling hopeless that they ever will.

Somehow, I kept pushing through, and had a lot of wonderful experiences, too. I found a new freedom I enjoyed. I made deep connections with incredible women who share similar stories.

I continue to work hard in therapy to heal from my trauma and PTSD. I am slowly, slowly making progress. Baby steps. Forward motion. Glimpses of my old strength are becoming more frequent, and the waves of anxiety are happening less. The decision to take control of my own healing in a situation that left me so hopeless has been empowering and crucial.

I have gotten over the pangs of both heartbreak and jealousy that would hit when I would see a baby out with both a mom, and a dad. I am working on getting over the pangs of both heartbreak and jealously that hit when I see an announcement of baby number two.

I have forced myself out of my shell and comfort zone, a ton. This has been one of the best things for me. I have met people I never would have met otherwise and have tried my hardest to learn from each person who has crossed my path, knowing that they were all placed there for a reason.

I took some inspiration recently from a woman who after experiencing loss said something like, "Option A isn't available. And if option A isn't available...then we're going to have to rock the shit out of option B." I am still wrapping my head and heart around the fact that yes, option A isn't available. But I'm feeling more optimistic that once I know what option B is, I can rock that.

I have met new men. It's been more of a social experiment for me than anything else, because I've never dated. I've been in a long term relationship since I was 19. I need to learn who I am around new men, and what I want. It's few and far between. Dating for me has been conversation, or food or a drink. I've had a year without romance in my life. And that's okay.

I slowly feel my creativity, focus, and spirituality coming back. Like sparks lighting up through my system...a tiny bit here and there at a time...slowly coming back online. Back to life. And I'd rather give myself time to see it through and feel the difference, than to jump off a bridge.

I am learning what boundaries I need, and how to begin to draw them.

I believe, with nothing but trust and some blind faith, that there is something more for me. I don't know what that means, or when I'll get there, but I know I'm not on this earth to be shattered and stopped at this point in the story. What if this is right when it's about to get good? I have to know.

And then of course, my boy. My boy. My boy. My world. My son. I am the most happy, grounded, myself, rooted in earth, and in my essence when I am being mother. I am not sad. I am not lost. I am fully present in each moment. I am dropped in, I am there. I am just as in awe of him as I have ever been, if not more so. I know there are big lessons he is here to teach me, big things he is here to do, and I am HIS mother for reasons I have yet to know. He is my joy and my balm.

I had never known what regret felt like until this year. But when I look at my son, I know it couldn't have all been for nothing because HE came from this. Little blonde being of light, life, and magic.

I have been thinking so much about this day as it approached. I didn't know how I'd feel, or what I'd want to say. I wanted to wake up in my full power, a sense of relief. Healed.

But instead I feel sad. I feel in time I'll be okay. That one day I will wake up that way.

But today I'm sad, and that's okay, too.


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Just one of those days.

Grief is not linear 

Love is not linear

In waves, forever in waves they’ll be.

Each person you pass by has been filled to the brim with good, and had a heart so heavy it’s all but bottomed out. Walking universes. How are we made survivable? 

Some days we are on top of the world, others we are under it. In waves, forever in waves they’ll be.

Just one of those blips, you know? Where I try to picture the future, and I can’t. Static silence. Black.

How can this be my reality? 

I’m having a (temporary) glitch.

Or this is my new normal. 

I busted my heart this year. That thing is BUST.ED.

I am continuing to survive the saddest thing I’ve ever survived. What a strange thing to say. What a weird planet.

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One big goodbye

I've been thinking a lot about something an ex once said. This ex was my longest relationship. 8 years. While I wasn't ready for him, nor did I experience the romantic love needed to keep me there, looking back years later I can appreciate lessons he taught me in a whole new way. With time, distance, and the ability to compare, and contrast, I see that what I took as "too simple" was pretty darn enlightened. 

Our nights, and our Sunday's were filled with conversation of incredible range. Socialism, theatre, the universe, love, the seven wonders of the world, our dog, our childhoods, you name it and we would discuss it at length. Nighttime was often like a slumber party. We'd talk, and talk, subjects bouncing all around. We'd dig in, he'd entertain my curiosity as a willing, and equal participant. Always gentle, always open to philosophizing, he taught me to embrace, and appreciate my sensitivity. He loved my inquisitive nature, my deep thoughts, and big feelings. He allowed me to unabashedly and unapologetically be ME. I wasn't quite aware of it then, because he did it so simply. 

He was there through the first of the two hardest times I've lived through, the first being back in 2012. At this point, I knew I needed to be out of the relationship, but didn't know how to say or do it. Just then, I experience a slew of losses, and stayed put awhile longer.

We talked for months about loss, and goodbye. You'd have to scroll a ways back to find it, but there's a post here where I talk about him saying  life's a series of goodbyes, how "we all meet in the middle of one big long goodbye." I remember when he said this. It seemed uncharacteristicly profound to me at the time, although l think now I wasn't aware of his profundity that probably happened regularly. 

Five years later, I imagine him saying this, in our old kitchen. The way the light filtered in, the sound of his voice. He seemed to be discovering these words and idea in the moment as he spoke. 

This memory makes me sad, but the good kind of sad. A wave of nostalgia hits my heart, but a small smile spreads across my lips. 

His words are  a reminder for me to embrace the goodbyes. To accept, to release, to move forward knowing I will always encounter them. It's all life is...we all just meet in the middle of one big long goodbye. 

So small, and so big, isn't it?

Each goodbye teaching you how you will invest your time from here on out, what kind of people are needed next to sooth your soul, or teach the next lesson. With each goodbye, we are one evolution closer to our greatest wisdom. 

The reminder of our inevitable departure from this earth fills me with love, entire. Even when I think back the moments I thought I would die from heartbreak, I find comfort. It's all IN. It all counts. It all happened. It's all OKAY.

It's just life. This is the way it has to be.

One of my favorite quotes comes to mind, "we are all just walking each other home." We are all teaching each other along this blip of a walk, and I am grateful for each of my radically different gurus along the way. 

I am okay with where I am, presently. I can see it, it's almost tangible. Like a dot moving slowly across a line, approaching a finite end. We are all meant to be EXACTLY where we are in this EXACT moment. 

The dot is seeking...moving toward something brand new, and very much earthed.

I look forward to the next goodbye, and the next, and the next...

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Let me be clear

There has been no questioning or prompting from outside sources, but I've been thinking that I needed to explain my writing a bit.

If you look back over the history of my blog, my writing peaks in times of sadness, and hardship. Heartbreak, in particular, seems to be my muse. It is when I am most open, in tune, and the words are immediate. They are raw. When I'm not struggling with something, I don't have much to write about. 

I've never kept a blog that is just day-to-day humdrum. That's not what this outlet is for me here. This is my heart-on-my-sleeve, pour-it-all-out, cathartic, therapeutic, artistic outlet for words. I have always said how much I love words. I love putting my feelings into form on the page. 

I like my writing, I take pride in my writing. I love the connection it gives me to others, when I hear feedback that I am speaking for / to them. 

But what I want to make clear, is that I put into words fleeting feelings. All feelings are temporary. My writing is poetic. It is not always literal. 

What I mean is, I am not living in sadness 100% of the time. I have moments of great happiness and excitement through the day, on any given day. I am finding as I get older, my natural state is optimism. I can't be held down for too long, without naturally bouncing back. Even when it means loosing the muse. 

I am not literally waiting for the one who broke my heart to bound back through the door, making our family whole again. Like any human, on occasion, I miss the good times. I do not miss the bad. I would not accept the bad again.

I am working through feelings when the flashes of hurt hit, and it feels so good to get them out here. I love the art of it, that the simplest flash sometimes spins into the best blog. I love the writings, and the musings that come. I love that they are coming, and that I feel connected to myself so deeply these days. Emotionally, and artistically. 

I hope that makes sense, and I hope all keep that in mind as you wander through my life here. 

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These days, I'm thinking a lot about the reset button. When you've lost everything, you have nothing to lose. I am redefining. Questioning what boundaries mean to me, in all aspects of my life, and consciously trying to set them where they haven't been, or where they need adjustments. I am looking deeply inward, asking myself what is comfortable to me. Where I can breathe easy, or not. Where I feel safe, and peaceful. What perimeters I can live with, or without. What I need in the space I exist in. What I look for in a partner, and in friends. What I need to continue to mother my child in the way I know is best for him, and for me. I am learning that the reset button is not the monster I thought it was. Not even a little bit. I continually feel myself expanding, attracting, ready to accept all my new adventures that are presenting themselves. I feel myself shedding the skin of my old life more each day. I just may not have much to write about soon...

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August blurbs

A couple of musings from August 16th, the anniversary that wasn't.

one

In 2012, I shattered, entire. As I built myself back over a summer, fall, and winter, I was never more open. The omens were everywhere, and that's when I learned the universe is tailored just for me, as it is for you. 

Relatives who had passed on came to visit me in animal form. The animals were everywhere. There were notes scrawled on the sidewalks, and the walls. I had visions of the child I would one day mother. I had dreams where I traveled from this plane, I saw heaven. 

Never again, have I experienced that kind of connection to the universe. Never again, have I been that earthed.

Maybe I didn't need it. Until now. "I could sure use an omen or two", I've been whispering to the cosmos. 

But I know it requires just as much effort on my part. 

I must not be cloudy. 

I must pay attention. 

I must know it when I see it. 

The visit from my ancestors yesterday was one. 

When you left me, I experienced a dream like those from five years ago. This time it was to be embraced by a real, and equal love. How different.

Today's omen came in the reminder that there are no coincidences, and time is magical.

A chance conversation with a stranger to give me all the right reminders, and to send me on my way...okay. 

two

What I would say to you today, if I could?

Today, I sat where we sat every year. I had to go to our spot, because where else would I go? Buried deep, or not so deep at all, was my hope to see you. To see you had taken the day off. To be here. 

"Your last name is Wride?" Surely someone would say. "How funny, there is a man here with that same last name!"

I wanted to write you. "Please, as someone who was so recently your wife, and love, give me a moment off the record. Please, if there is any part of you, I don't care how small, who doubts this...meet me tonight. If somewhere in there, past ego, past pride, you feel you don't want this, this emotional, financial, mental, devastation of us, meet me. Meet me in the lobby of our spot. 6 pm. The time we said our vows three years ago today. I'll be waiting for you with a glass of champagne. And if you choose not to, please don't use this against me. Please disregard this, as someone who was so recently your wife, and love."

In my minds eye, he he comes. He walks in, wearing his suit. He doesn't want our destruction. He wants to come home. "Yes," I say. But I approach delicately. I ask we just try for a day, or a weekend. It's so fragile. 

And that's where it stops. I can't see further. And I know I am not allowed to ask this of him, although this is my biggest wish. 

Come home, my heart says. Come home. 

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Happy Anniversary

Tomorrow is our anniversary. Three years since the most beautiful day of my life. My beautiful husband cried beautiful tears and spoke beautiful words he'd written, promising to love me forever. There are certain lines that still play in my head.

Today, I am sad. I am on day three of sad. After feeling pretty good for awhile, I'm experiencing a small setback. I am still so confused. I don't understand how one minute a family vacation is being booked, we are talking of purchasing burial plots, I am suddenly told I must have another baby or our relationship is over, then six days later, it's really done.

I told you on the spot I would do anything for you. Yes to anything, yes to everything. You tricked me. Did you mean to? I spent six days agonizing. Searching myself to see how quickly I could have another baby. At my deepest interior I found I could. I caught myself up, up to the immediate yes I gave you. Here I am. Our son is 17 months tomorrow. My hormones have settled. The haze has cleared. I am ready for our baby and my option is gone.

I may never be able to have another baby again, and you took it all away from me. 

So here I am. Sad, today. 

"I still feel like he is my husband, I still feel like I belong to him", I say out loud. I am certain if I try hard enough, I can wish it back into existence. He will reach out. He'll say it's gone too far. He'll be ready to put in the work. To apologize for ever scaring me, calling me names. The weight of this is just too much, today. 

I don't want to go it alone. I don't want to lose my life. My home. My family. I can't see into the future, and that's so, so scary. 

I am outside with my mom, and son. I am swirling inside with my thoughts and my should-haves and can't-haves. I am imagining various timelines for myself. I let myself linger in the one where I am still married to my love. Where we wake up in the same place. Where he comes home after work. Where I am pregnant. Where my time goes to raising my babies. Its a cozy, small life. The small life.

Right then, a breeze blows, and I feel the energy of my female ancestors pass through me. For a moment, I am frozen, chills run though my body. I feel the size and shape of my physical self, the space I take up, and I am more deeply rooted in my being than I have been in months. I am momentarily statuesque. "I can feel my armor", is what comes into my head. I let myself wear it in that moment, it all happens so fast, and I hear them whisper to me loud and clear, "oh no, you are not meant for small. There is big out there. There is big for you." And just like that, they are gone...

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Narcissistic Personality Disorder w/expert Randi Fine.

Transcribed from a podcast I had to listen to three times. I couldn't believe my ears. When I learn, when things I experienced are explained, defined, given a name, I feel that maybe, just maybe in time I'll heal. With the help of my therapist, and my own research, I have to believe I will heal.


Beyond the Basics Health Academy  with guest Randi Fine


** Narcissistic Personality Disorder **


NPD is a mental illness. These people are not psychotic. They look, walk, talk, and act like us. That's how they rope people in and destroy their lives.

When you're dealing with a person with this disorder, you're not dealing with the true person, you're dealing with the false self that they've created. The false self is showing a different mask to the world that is not truly representative of who they are inside. Inside they are self-loading and envious and they hate life, they hate everything about themselves. And so everybody who has what they wish they had is enviable in their minds...

...that's what throws people. They think that the person has extraordinarily high self esteem, and really does have self love which they seem to have, but they really don't.

(The narcissist) their entire life is about admiration, attention, adoration from others and they have an empty well that is never satiated or filled. So they need it constantly.

Q: What kid of things do you see with individuals that have been in relationships of any kind with somebody with NPD?
A: Complete destruction of individuality, self-esteem, great depression, hopelessness, despair, every kind of negative thing you could imagine. They come out of these relationships not at all the same person they are as when they went in. The manipulative tactics that are used on the victims are so insidious that the victim doesn't realize what's being used on them. They use tactics called gas lighting and projection, brainwashing, and psychological warfare. They completely turn their victims mind around so the person no longer knows who they are, they do not trust their instincts, nor do they trust their ability to live independently.

Gaslighting. When a victim is gaslighted they're told what they see they didn't see, what they hear they didn't hear, what they were told they were not told. They'll be told the narcissist never said what they said. What they've experienced never happened.

Projection. They will tell the other person exactly what they know to be true of themselves. They'll say you are a user, you are a manipulator, you only want things for you, you don't care about anyone else. And they constantly project this onto the other person, which makes the other person crazy, because the victim generally is a very kind, over-understanding, super-understating individual who would give anything to have this narcissist be nice to them. So when this stuff is projected onto them it makes them feel crazy, because it is so not true. And then they begin to wonder after while, well, maybe I do want too much. When the only things that they're actually asking for are having their basic, very basic needs met, which the narcissist refuses to do.

In the romantic relationship, in the beginning, the narcissist does what's called love-bombing. And they are the absolute most perfect partner. They are everything that the other person has looked for in a human being to partner with. It's also called the honey moon phase. They get to know this person inside and out, the phish for all their weak areas, and all the things they want in life, and then they morph into this perfect partner. The victim has no idea what is happening to them because they are on such a love high. They can't even believe that they found this person. The minute the union is secured; they move in, they get married, as soon as the narcissist knows that they've got that person, at that very second, it all changes. So the victim keeps trying to get back that person. "I know he/she is in there, I saw it. We had that love, we had that perfect love. I'm gonna do whatever it takes to get it back." And so the more they try to get it back, the more abused they are and it keeps spiraling downward. And they still can't understand that the person they thought they were in love with was a total fake. That person never existed.

Q: Is it possible for a person with NPD to change?
No, unfortunately not. The narcissist never changes. The narcissist has no ability to be introspective. The narcissist doesn't care about anyone. The narcissist doesn't love anyone. It's all about gaining what's called narcissistic supply. They are this empty person inside who does not have any ability to be happy. They don't have any ability to love or empathize. They need so much and they need it constantly and as soon as you finish giving them what they need, they're empty again. What they do with their victims is they capture them, and they keep them hostage through emotional abuse, so that they have these victims to continue to feed off of. Once that person is no longer supplying them, that person means absolutely nothing. So you could have had a 35, 50 year old marriage with this person. The minute you stop feeding them, it's as if you never existed. It's very tragic. And it's very hard for those who have been victimized this way to comprehend that the love they thought they had never, ever existed.

Q: Is the plan to get out of the relationship?
Even though they feel like they've got to get out of there, they're terrified of leaving. They're terrified of being on their own. They still believe they're tremendously in love, and they still believe there's a chance that this could work. Because of what's been done to their brains, they don't have the ability to think this clearly. They may get away, but in their heart they're still addicted to this narcissist.

With the littlest thing the victim is back. In their heart, they just want that person to love them. Any inkling of something that resembles attention or love and they're right back.

When people who have been victimized this way figure out what's wrong, it's imparitive that they get help with it.

It's not commonly known in our society that emotional abuse can be worse than physical abuse. With this kind of abuse, the problem is that it's intangible. With physical abuse, you can see what happened to you and your brain has a chance to recognize it and accept it. With emotional abuse theres no way for the brain to wrap itself around this kind of thing because a non-personality disordered person doesn't think the way a narcissist thinks, but they think narcissist does think like they do, and they continually try to apply logic to an illogical situation and it makes them feel crazy. They can't figure it out.

***What NPD does to children***

It absolutely destroys children. They don't have children to love children, and to see them grow and become individuals, they have children to grow their own supply. That's all it is. They don't have the capacity to love children.

The parent use things like narcissistic rage, which if you see someone in a rage like this it's among the most terrifying faces you will ever see. They use these tactics so children are afraid to go up against their parents.

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Struck today.

I've been anxiously awaiting the announcement of Lucky Blue & Stormi Bree's baby. When it popped up this morning, I did not expect to have the reaction I've had. Full body sobs. In waves, I am rocked hard. I swear I can feel my heart breaking in my chest. I can FEEL it. Overcome with a grief, a love, and a special kind of nostalgia that only a mother can know. Like death, you can never understand birth until you have experienced it. There is a beautiful and devastating permanence in both. In the midst of my breakup, I grieve. I grieve the potential of what could have been. I grieve the incredible experience of the birth of my son. I look at this photo, at this moment, and I know that moment. I am sad that moment for me was so fleeting. This moment is precipice. A new life lies ahead. I am sad for those who will soon find out how hard it could be, and who will be crushed by it. I am envious of those who will stay together, and be strengthened by it, and those who will get it again. I have so many wishes. I wish he would have had patience. I wish he would have seen me through. I wish he would have comforted me when I needed it, and been a source of emotional strength. I wish I could have explored with him deeply and openly conversations of how I experienced pregnancy, childbirth, post partum anxiety, parenting styles, my mother's instinct, second babies, timelines, hormones. Hormones, who only let me begin my return to myself after a year. I envy you with men who don't claim to understand, but those who give you time. Who give you room. Who let you breathe. Who let you talk about, until it is all out, who make you feel loved, not scolded, or hurried. I see this photo, and I remember the feeling of having it all. I was full, I was complete. It is a stark contrast to how I feel these days. A new sense of freedom, yes. But also a strange loneliness. Our son now 16 months. And I still feel that it is so very much at the beginning. And that this is all such a shame. We only got 6 months in our new house together, 2 of which he spent moved out anyway. How was this an honest attempt for us? What is wrong with admitting fault? Working hard? Therapy? Communication? I am still trying to process and reconcile so much of the last couple of years. I will forever be haunted that the last time my former love and I were under the same roof, I was called names, scared, trapped, and I will never forget the way his face would change as he yelled. "I wish I had never met you" he said. "I am mad at him", he said of the baby. I will be haunted forever that he didn't want to try. To work through his demons, our marriage, and fight for our commitment. I will forever be haunted by baby Rosemary, who was supposed to come next, and never will. My body feels hollow now. I don't understand why this happened, as I am in the throes of it. I don't understand how I started with so much love, and ended with so much fear. I am left wondering if I was just something on a checklist as he rushed his way through, a hurried imitation of a life he thought he was supposed to have. I am open, wounded, and sad. I'd waited so long. To find the one person I ever wanted any of this with. For the point in my life where taking a break from work in order to be with at home with a baby was welcome. Loss. So much loss. It's enough to drive a weaker soul mad. I can't stop looking at this photo. There is a bittersweet universe that opened up in me upon seeing it. Of all I had, have, and will never have. 

To those who have been here, how do you get through?

How??

This is not love.

I met a beautiful long haired boy. He was oh so sad. I was drawn to his turmoil, to his sadness. "You are sensitive, nostalgic, and sad", I said. "I see you. Your melancholia is beautiful.". I mistook his talk of sadness, for an open heart. I mistook his woes, for connection. I thought he was letting me in. I thought I understood. But really...I knew nothing beyond the surface of his sad.  

It is a fragile, convoluted thing, to learn what love is. Three years married. Four together. One month to live a crash course in what love is. 

It is not love to be yelled at. It is not love for your spouse to yell to your face that you are a bitch. It is not love for your spouse to yell at you to fuck off, or fuck you. It is not love to be grabbed roughly. It is not love to be run out on. It is not love to be given the silent treatment. It is not love to be without communication. It is not love to never be comforted, to be ignored when you cry, and to called a "little bitch lamb" because you are crying. It is not love to be told your access to your bank account will be stopped. It is not love to be threatened with divorce, and a fight for your child. Time and time again. It is not love for things to be thrown, and broken around you. It is not love to be "taught lessons"..."didn't these last two days teach you anything?" Or, "if you're going to behave like a child, I'm going to treat you like one." It is not love to beg for therapy, to finally get to go together, to last only four sessions, for one of you to get kicked out, and to never make another attempt at repairing. It is not love to be told you must have another baby or you will be left. It is not love to beg not to be left. It is not love to beg for anything. 

It is not love to beg. 

It is not love for any of this to happen in front of your baby. 
It is not love for your baby to bear witness to these things. 

There is so much shame, denial and confusion, surrounding emotional, verbal, and mental abuse. Even the strongest women are not immune. It sneaks up. You explain it away, because you can’t possibly have gotten yourself into this situation. You're too smart for that. You are not one of those women. You actually try to start telling yourself that maybe being called names doesn't really matter because, "it's just words". Plus, you are a deep-feeling, loving, and hopeful person, and you have enough love and commitment for the both of you. So that should do, right? When the going gets hard, you don’t run, you fix! You try everything and anything  because we declared our commitment for all our family and friends to see, proudly. We have a child together. Leaving is not an option. 

But I've learned there is no such thing as having enough love for the both of you. Or having enough faith for you both. Yes, you still have faith. But now you also have fear. 

Fear is a slippery slope. 
Fear also sneaks up. 

You don’t dare to call for help, because you’ll work this out, and nobody will have a tainted view of your relationship. You don't want to call the police, because what if you hurt his career? And what if he takes the baby, like he said he would? You'd better sit tight. You don't dare to tell anyone, you make excuses. You pretend. But it starts to eat you alive. Your appetite grinds to a halt. You begin to have regular anxiety attacks. You are underweight. You are walking on eggshells. You've assumed a new role, of the baby’s protector. Your stomach drops and your heart sinks on a regular basis. You being to have PTSD. You turn down social activities. You say no to your friends. You beat him back home every night. You want to keep him pleased. You are sick. This. Has. Made. You. Sick. But you love him. You love him. You love him. 

Letting this behavior happen is not love.
This is not love. 

It is not love to excuse. 
It is not love to enable. 
It is not love to sweep problems under the rug with no communication. 
It is not love to put up with this behavior. 

It is loving to set boundaries. 
It is loving to have strength, to know your son cannot and will not see this again. 
It is loving to break your own heart, because you never wished for a fractured home. 
It is loving to take time away, to reflect, and remember you are a worthy person. 

That’s the scariest part of all. By the end, you are so upside down that your worth is nearly gone. Your WORTH. Hear me loud and clear when I tell you that YOU WILL QUESTION IF YOU ARE A PERSON WORTHY TO BE A LIVING, BREATHING THING ON THE EARTH. Many factors add up to this, including cries for help that were understood, but never responded to from those you truly thought would help. Instead, it was glossed over, and you and your son were left...feeling unloved, sure...but also unsafe. THIS IS NOT LOVE. Not love comes from a cycle of not love, and not love before that. Not love cannot be sustained when matched with real love. 

And it's that simple. And it's that hard. 
And yet time works wonders.

And in the beginning you're certain you'll never get through, because the man of your dreams is gone. It's gone. It is all gone. And then weeks go by. And then you near a month, then more, and you see things so much clearer now that your source of anxiety is gone. And you're right, it is gone. It is all gone. But what's gone is the darkness. The turmoil, and the sadness, the storm brought with it. 

But your love is intact. And you find that you are actually intact. And you no longer pine for someone who tried so hard to leave you, for so long. And when you really take a look back...you see that someone has been trying to leave you for the last year, yes, but also since they met you. 

If I stay silent, I do no favors. I enable. I patch over. I pretend. I allow no women to come forward, to say, "me too!" I have heard so many times that it appears my life is perfect. That it looked like I was living the dream. Reality is that my heart, soul, and trust were shattered. That I will pine for who knows how long for the life I thought I had. The family I thought I was building and could save, could fix. The idea that you don't throw in the towel on marriage when it's this level of love, when there is a baby. The idea that raising our baby under the same roof was the only option. 

My reality is that I am broken. 

As broken as the shadow of the person I thought I knew. The one who told me he never wanted me to be afraid of him. The one who told me that he hated his profession and took it out on me.The one who I both still love, and fear. The one I must turn over our son to at times now - without me. The one who belongs to a family that has now been made clear in court after the protective order, is lost to me. I thought many of those relationships could stay intact. I had a completely different vision of him being helped, and our relationships sustained. I thought family is family is family and family helps. I have been so naive. I now have no choice but to hand over my baby. This will also mean handing over my baby to family that I feel I no longer know, or will be allowed to know. I will hand over my baby to one family member whom I loved, but who always made me nervous because of the effect of their pain pills. I'd witnessed them nod off on more than one occasion...including once when my newborn son was in their arms. That is an image you don't forget. I was told I love my baby too much. But I don't for one second believe that is even a thing. Thank god I love my son and will fight to keep him healthy and safe. Thank god he has me, and I have him. My little boy all but saved my life. 

I have no idea how to rebuild my life. I'd been setting myself up to be primarily a stay-at-home-mom. I have had no regular income since I was pregnant. Only freelance work. I have no idea how to pay my lawyers. I have no idea how to pay to recover and start over from any of this. It is total devastation in every aspect. Emotionally, mentally, physically, financially. You name it. So no, my life is not perfect. I am certainly not living my dream. 

But what I have learned I am, is an eternal optimist. I am an amazing mother who loves her son more than anything, and will fight to protect him when, and where I need to. I also know that people are good. That men are good. That men are out there who come from communication, or want to learn communication. Who want to dig deep. Who would look at themselves, and choose to sort out their share of the issues. Who speak kindly to and of the women in his life. Who strive to discover who they truly are, and what they want. Who won't tell me that I won't be able to go get a job and provide like he does. Who won't yell at me for buying a cup of coffee. Who won't tell me he wouldn't have to yell if I didn't make him mad. Who won't want to "put me on an allowance." Who dig in to the experience of parenthood. I didn't have what I now know I needed in a partner while navigating my way into motherhood. Lost to the haze of new motherhood, I wasn't able to deeply express and work through my first 6 months of post partum anxiety. I wasn't able to express my contentment with becoming a mother, and my deep connection to our son, or talk about the kind of baby he was, and the parenting styles my mother's instincts told me fit him best. I didn't have those big exciting moments to talk about for years to come when I found out I was pregnant, or when we saw the first ultra-sound. Instead, I had someone who told me time and time again, "I'm a cold person." That his family, "bottles everything up. It's what we do." He was so determined. So committed to the cold. To the bottling. 

I've been in long term relationships for the past 20 years. Never in my life did I experience a relationship where I needed to ask for help. Never in my life did I experience a relationship where someone told me I was the cause of everything. Certainly not in the 8 year relationship I was in prior. That was a good man, so good he was willing to come to my defense even now. So I am not without hope. I am confident about the fact that there are good men. 

I feel a pang of sadness when I see a baby out and about with both a mom, and a dad. I keep having moments of panic because my wedding ring isn't on. For a split second I'm worried I've lost it. I'm not used to having it off. Ahead of me lies a hard road, and no, I'm not sure how I'm going to start down it, or pay for it. And yes, it still feels like all is being taken. A spouse, my baby, quite possibly any chance at future pregnancies, quite possibly the roof over our heads. I have no idea what we'll do. I am learning how crushed the stay-at-home-mom often becomes in this scenario. Where are the resources?! Life is dealing me cards I have never, ever, wanted. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. I don't know how anyone can take the required divorce classes and still want to go through this, rather than committing harder, and fixing it. Those classes are devastating. 


I'm aware that this all sounds very heavy, so let me leave you with some lightness. 

Recently, my bouts of sadness have started to lessen. I have ever so gently begun to feel lighter, and to feel a freedom that had gone missing. I still feel a spark inside. A spark I didn't even realize had started to go out. It is there, it is back, and it is glowing. Urging me on. I have to believe that there is better ahead. There is different, there is new. I have worked too hard, for too long to lose every scrap of myself for this. I know I was certainly not put on this earth to be this sad. And also, "Charlie's Mom" is amazing, you guys. She is tough, and strong, and soft, and sensitive, and in tune, and confident, and fun. No way would she let someone else take her worth. Someone with so much potential, but so deeply wounded. Someone so young. I've lived way too much life to see myself demolished at the hands of another. Parents and friends had begun to comment on why I was always asking permission to do things, wondering where my independence had gone. 

I have a lot to figure out, about why I let this happen. Where along the way I got it into my head that romance was tragic. How I could let my attraction blind me so deeply. I am researching and reading like crazy, and will link a couple of articles at the end to help you all better understand. 

If you're reading this and you've been through something similar, I hope my words and transparency help you. Help you be less alone. Help you to feel less shame. Help to remind you to stay hopeful. 

And if f you ever feel that you need to ask for help - ask. And don't let anyone minimize your fear. They are not living, breathing, experiencing it firsthand. They have no right to tell you your experience is not valid. This is exactly why people feel there is no way out. If someone tells you they are scared, please listen. Respond. I beg you. And if you find yourself in the camp of the other party, help that person with some tough love, rather than a blind eye. Please, I beg you. To stay silent, to stay inactive does them no favors. The cycle will never have an end. 

I am in progress. I am both happy, and sad. I am worried, but hopeful. I am full of love for my incredible family and circle of friends. My supportive community. My tribe who reached right out and helped me stay afloat. My therapist. I am learning. Every day I am digging deep and figuring it out. 

What I do know now, is love is not cruel. 
If it's cruel, it's not love. 
It is not love. 


This one really helped me understand the why and how of my participation: 
22 stages of relationship between an empath and a narcissist  

Understanding emotional abuse

Understanding emotional and physiological abuse


Podcast