Monthly Archives: November 2017

Love

Love is a funny thing.

In an ideal world, we love our parents, our siblings, children and extended family. We love our friends, our pets, our neighbours. We love celebrities we have never met. We love our lovers, our partners, and spouses. Sometimes, we love ourselves.

How is it that we love in so many different ways?

But what about a love that just exists, with no rhyme or reason, so completely and unconditionally that we do not get feelings of jealousy, hurt, anger, disappointment, regardless of what the other person does or does not do? A love so pure, it doesn’t matter if we are loved in return? A love that enables the object of our love to feel free and unrestricted? How rare is such a love? And what are we meant to do with it?

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Reflection Of Me

I had a conversation yesterday, and in it, I said some amazing people had come into my life in the last couple of years. The response from the person I was talking to was, “that is maybe a reflection of you.”

Their words have been swimming around in my brain for a while, and I’m starting to think they may be on to something. 

The people who have come in to my life have, for the most part, been respectful, adventurous, willing to explore the world, life, and themselves. They’ve predominantly been open and willing to share their experiences. They have all taught me something, and helped me grow as a person. They’ve helped make me who I am.

Many people have described me in very similar ways.

But there is a deeper level of similarity emerging. All these people have been attached, or detached in some way, unable to give of themselves completely, hiding behind the image they project to the world, their fears, their pain, or even something undefined. Just like me.

So, perhaps it is true that we attract what we project. Perhaps all these amazing people really are a reflection of me.

Still Breathing

It’s been such a long time since I wrote here, and I didn’t really have any intention of returning after leaving WordPress.com, but there has seemed to be quite a bit of interest the last couple of weeks, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to say, “Hi.”

So much has changed, and so much has stayed the same since the last post on here. I left my relationship. I found myself, lost myself, found myself again, only to lose me once more. I found my sexuality, and lost it again. I have a manuscript ready except for the formatting. I stopped writing short stories, and started writing poetry. I’ve had three jobs, four different addresses, across half the State. I fell madly in love with a liar and a cheat, and I had a whirlwind same-sex relationship. Just normal, everyday stuff.

In amongst all of that, has been the omniscient presence of my father.

Panic attacks, nightmares, flashbacks, memory floods, body memories, and ever increasing anxiety has been in the background the entire time. Every mountain you think will be the last one, and it never is. But it does get better.

In the last two years I have learnt to smile, to feel safe enough to play and makes jokes, to trust myself to know I can look after myself, and I’ve broken many of the shackles. So, it can be done. The question is, at what cost?

I still have dreams to be able to help others. I still have dreams to write. I still love getting out and exploring the country.

I’m still breathing.