strong me isn’t pretty

strong me isn’t pretty.

she is not apologetic or sorry.

she stands tall on her own two feet and will not put up with your bullshit.

she will demand the best from you and give her best to you.

she will insist on honesty from you and always tell you the truth.

she will not suffer the fool but has infinite patience for the nescient.

she will not mince words, put things delicately or allow you to give her anything less than 100%.

she refuses to be treated as a liar, as a scapegoat or as your door mat.

she is proud of the scars she bears and draws courage from them.

she is honest and steadfast and pure in her anger and in her love.

she is the new me, and damn it, if you can’t handle her, fuck you.


responding to my cousin’s gift

After watching the video link in my previous post, I was so touched, I had to send this message to my cousin.

My god, that was amazing.  She and I have both been living in closets, I just came out first.  And I can relate to EVERYTHING Ash says in this video.  The letter I sent to my mom was THE hardest thing I have ever done.  It was so painful and so frightening and I knew what the consequences might be.  I am dying to have a dialog with her–when she is ready.
Did you know I saw her yesterday?  We conversed like polite acquaintances.  When I tried to start the dialog that needs to be had, she cut me off, telling me how she is fine, how she is not an alcoholic.  She needs no help, she has a happy marriage and a busy fulfilling life and lots of friends.  She isn’t ready to have that dialog yet. 
Perhaps the biggest problem, perhaps the root of all if this is that in order to have that dialog, she needs to tell me I am telling the truth.  She cannot keep saying he never hit her or hit me or did any of the awful things that happened between 1975 and 1985.  Her inability (or unwillingness) to say, “Yes, that happened, you are not lying, and I wish things had been different” is what keeps the dialog from happening. 
Instead she is trying to turn my friends and my family against me, telling my father how horrible he looked at the wedding probably because of all the burdens and stress I have piled on him.  Sending my eldest emails gushing over the wedding and how beautiful she was while telling me in an email that my youngest was the prettiest girl there.  She even told my eldest that her new mother-in-law was clearly the third most beautiful woman at the wedding after the bridge and her sister.  She actually rolled her eyes and grimaced at me when I told her that my husband and I together are better than ever.
I really, really, really miss my mom.  But she never really was the mom I pretended she was.  And when I ripped that Band Aid off in my letter to her, I started a blood flow that shows no sign of letting up.
Thank you so much for sharing this with me and with her.  I hope she can see how this might apply to our situation, but I have to tell you truly, I won’t be holding my breath.
You are so awesome.  My life has always been better because you have been in it.
With much love and many hugs,


my savior, my husband

I am addicted to Grey’s Anatomy, and I am addicted to films, books, and TV shows that make me cry.  Today I spent most of the day crying.  And what made me cry the hardest was this song, sung at the end of “Grey’s Anatomy: The Music Event”.  Callie Torres, near death, is in her alter-persona, singing this to her lover, and soon to be wife, Arizona.  And it sums up a lot of how I feel about my dear husband, who is my life, my backbone, my guiding star.

All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I’ve been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don’t mean anything
When you’ve got no one to tell them to
It’s true… I was made for you

I climbed across the mountain tops
Swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
But baby I broke them all for you
Because even when I was flat broke
You made me feel like a million bucks
You do and I was made for you

You see the smile that’s on my mouth
It’s hiding the words that don’t come out
And all of my friends who think that I’m blessed
They don’t know my head is a mess
No, they don’t know who I really am
And they don’t know what I’ve been through like you do
And I was made for you…

All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I’ve been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don’t mean anything
When you’ve got no one to tell them to
It’s true… I was made for you

Oh yeah, well it’s true… that
I was made for you…

Today my heart bled all day.  I cried all day and literally had to force myself out of bed.  I don’t know what is wrong with me.  I know I should be okay; I should not feel this horribly bad, my work is not that hard, and thank god I have a paycheck.  But today all I want to do is lay in bed and cry. And cry some more.  And the only one whose shoulder I can cry on is his.  Even if he doesn’t really understand, he still holds me and keeps me safe.  He keeps the Bad Place from consuming me.  Tonight I would welcome the Bad Place; I would go there willingly, I would sleep forever, I would be at peace and my pain would be over.  But I cannot leave him.  He is mine and I am his and I was truly made for him.