Category Archives: Uncategorized

Fragile

**This is an older post I was drafting and forgot to publish.  I do love the words and still relate to them

I am a girl.  I don’t fancy myself a princess-y type.  I’m not a needy girl, I can entertain myself, I make my own money, I take care of the shit I gotta take care of.  I like make up and fancy clothes but not every day.  I don’t need, or want, diamonds or rings or expensive things.  I have a hard time relating to some women…the ones who seek out drama, brow beat their men into submission, or need someone to entertain them, fawn over them, etc. I can figure my own shit out.  Thanks tho.

BUT

There are times when I wish I could be a fragile girl.  Just once, I wish I could be a soft woman who could curl into the comfort of her protector and blindly trust.  I wish I had just one protector I could count on; one I could unconditionally trust.  A protector that could ease my burden of hurt for even just a moment so I can feel the relief of that missing weight.  Trust that that soul would protect me, defend me, keep me safe, and take just one blow so I don’t have to.  Just even one time.

BUT

That isn’t the way my world works.  I am a protector.  I protect the people I love.  I take the blows so they don’t have to.  I put my walls up, guard my heart and plow forward.  I’ll take those that need it into my arms and I will love and protect them fully. I will ask for nothing in exchange.  I will continue to be the safety net I so desperately wish for.

Being Broken

When I first started this blog, I thought that Random Babble of a Broken Girl would be incredibly fitting. It never occurred to me to question my meaning of “broken”.  I mean here I was identifying as a broken girl but what did that even mean?  What was broken?

I took some time to look through my old posts and how I saw myself hit me square in the face. Although I still view myself as a broken girl, I see myself as broken in a very different way.  When I started this slow, inconsistent journey of publicly writing, I thought of myself as a “bad” person.  I thought my morale compass was broken, that my spirit was dark, and my intentions never pure.  Perhaps that was partially true; and much like a toy when the spring breaks, I was broken.  I needed to be “fixed” so to speak.

In reading my old posts, those feelings still swell in me but the impact is much different.  At one time, those overwhelming emotions would wear me down, help me justify bad decisions, help me excuse my choices – regardless of the consequences.  But over time, and without even realizing it, I’ve come to think of myself as a different type of broken. I’m no longer full of self-loathing, I no longer see my morale compass as being “broken”…skewed for sure but not broken.  I’m not broken because many of the aspects of who I am are pure, good and true.  I have learned that my differences are mine and it’s ok.  It’s ok to not always follow a straight line.  It’s ok to be me.

I have come to realize that, no matter how hard I try to not be, I am prone to guilt, I am prone to worrying about judgment, I am prone to shame, I worry about what certain people think and are going to say and ultimately I am terrified of being rejected. Basically, my self-confidence and esteem are broken.  *I* am no longer broken but rather little pieces of me are.  And maybe they’re not even so much broken as they are underdeveloped.  Maybe I’m not broken at all.  Maybe I never was.

I am struggling. I am struggling with who I am and how to define myself.  I am struggling with allowing myself to truly be me and feeling at peace with that versus worrying about what others think of me.  I struggle with opinions because I don’t have the confidence to say “fuck ‘em”.  It’s quite a dichotomy for me because as a general rule, I do as I want, when I want and how I want.  I care very little about the way some people think of me but then others I have a burning need and desire to prove wrong.  But why?  WHO CARES?

Clearly I do.

I thought that my growth was substantial in the early beginnings of this crazy journey but they weren’t.  I’ve got a helluva way to go but I’ll keep taking baby steps and those baby steps will get me to the woman I know I am. I am the woman that has wings fueled by fiery spirit, the woman that has a heart so tender it could be sliced with a feather, the woman that can harness the power of ten Sirens in one look and the woman who carries a wisdom many centuries older than her earthly age.  I will get there.  I hope you all stick with me, the journey is far from over yet.

~ From the not broken but not whole me.

She shoots…will she score?

Dropping all of your vices is scary.  Scary but empowering.  Motivating but challenging.  I have a few vices.  I drink too much, not like everyday but usually at every gathering and on Fridays.  We do beer Fridays in my world.  I smoke.  I didn’t for a really long time but I do again.  I eat.  Oh baby do I eat.  I eat good food because I love good food because I can cook good food so I do.  Sedentary.  I am that.  It’s like the food thing.  I am good at sedentary.

All kidding aside, these things are really not helping to lengthen my life.  While a lot of fun, these vices are costly, take a terrible toll on the body and really don’t do much in way of making you feel GREAT about yourself.  This is especially bad considering I am one of those people who love to feel great about myself peoples.  Particularly my strength and physical fitness.  I was strong.  Strong and proud of it.  Now, not so much.  I wasn’t afraid of hiking or jogging because I knew that I could breath and enjoy myself.  Now, not so much.

Clearly things have got to change.  But the thing about me is this…the second I tell myself I *can’t* have something, you can bet your ass I’m going to run out and have 15 of exactly whatever it is I’ve just told myself I can’t have.  Childish?  Yes.  It is what it is.  So, one would think then the easiest way for me to trick myself would be to tell myself I can’t have a healthy meal or can’t run up a hill and then you’d find me eating my salad WHILE running up the hill….right?  WRONG.  Nope, you know what I’d say to myself? “Well you’re clearly out of your mind. We’d better have a beer and a cigarette and contemplate this conundrum”.  Because I work like a slightly off-kilter, needs-to-be-oiled machine.

So this all being said, I’m going to try to learn something new.  lifegoalIt’s called goal setting and achieving.  I’m pretty sure 90% of the population already does this but I do not.  So I’m going to learn.  Fun, right?  Probably not.  BUT I’m pretty sure it’s not going to hurt me either.  I mean not setting goals and not having a plan HAS been hurting me so….

I am a great starter of things…and not a great finisher so that’s my first goal.  To get a plan together and stick to it for 30 days.  I’ll keep you posted….

 

Up, Up and Away…

This has become a mantra for me This has become a mantra for me

I started this blog many years ago with great intentions of becoming a “real” blogger. You know, one that develops a loyal following and has fans waiting in the wings. Yeah, my ego may have been slightly larger than my head. And by slightly I mean freaking huge. But whatevs.

In the early months, I made lists of the topics I was going to cover. Political topics, hot-button topic, and parenting issues all made the roster but very few made the blog. This blog became a place for me to write about and work through very personal issues in my life. I’ve had some really great feedback from the few people who do read my posts and I’ve had some very ugly things thrown at me by trolls who need a hobby. Looking back now, I see this as a stepping stone onto the journey I have been on.

Looking at this blog now I see so much of it that represents where I used to be. I used to trend to the negative. I used to be bitter. I used to look at the world through lenses coloured with anger, hate, hurt and sarcasm. I used to talk about all the things I used to be instead of really focussing on what I am, who I’m becoming and who I want to be. (Yes, I realize the irony of doing that exact thing right now). I used to think of myself as broken.

I am no longer those things. I am being true to myself. I am learning my passions. I am terrified of this journey. I am terrified of being vulernable. I am terrified of being weak. I am terrified of reaching out to people and letting them in. I am terrified of failing. I am excited to be on this journey. I am proud of the accomplishments I’ve made so far. I am proud that I continually challenge myself and am putting a voice to my insecurities. I am glad that I have acknowledged my weaknesses and am learning to embrace them. I am fixing myself.

I have been cleansing my life of my old ways. Slowly but surely. Old habits, old thought patterns, old text messages, old contacts, and old diary pages. It’s now time to put this blog to rest, not just change the template or the title or the layout but really close this chapter and move on.

So, until next time folks!

So long and farewell

The Bitch about Blogging

I started my very first journal when I was young, perhaps around 10 or so, and I’ve been going at it ever since. My first diary was filled with, quite literally, random babble. A young girl trying to figure out how to put her emotions and thoughts to words. Over the years, instead of being a day to day thing, my diaries became more of a vent-space. Spaces were earned by friends who were pissing me off, boyfriends who jilted me, my parents and their never-ending banter and just life in general. It was my very own burn book.

burnbook

As the years progressed, people whom I trusted would read those thoughts even when uninvited. My mother and my (now ex) boyfriend were the worst offenders. So I learned that I couldn’t really be honest in those spaces because my words would inevitably be thrown in my face. Over the years, I just stopped writing in paper books and would create electronic documents that I could password protect and ensure my privacy. That worked wonders.

Moving along…enter the age of blogging…

When I first heard of “blogging”, I could not figure out what that meant. To be honest, it sounded like a disease I was not interested in catching. Then I started poking around on the interwebz and came across some very funny folks who I still read to this day (check the blog roll, yo). Blogging was a perfect way for me to get out my thoughts and rants and musings in a semi-anonomous way. So up went my site. Even though I write about some very personal things, I know that this space IS open to the great wide world. Even though anyone and their dog can read this, I decided to share my space with a few family and friends and I even posted it on my facecrackbook profile. I wanted to share my words, my lessons, my wisdom and my humour with those people who care about me and care about what I have to say. Over the years, I’ve gotten a few followers (can I get a WHOOP WHOOP) and they’ve even commented (which I find profoundly awesome because I don’t know most of them in “real” life).

Now, if you’ve read my past posts, you know that I have a special, smirky hate hard-on for computer trolls. They usually @#&$ up my New Years resolutions by dealing me a hand of #lookdeepinyoursoul cards when I’m simply looking for the #i’mboredatworkandwanttolaugh deck. It turns out that these critters, the ones living amongst the circuit boards, eating RAM and making programs glitch out, their trollish tittering disguised as fans whirling and whizzing to life, are actually closely related to the infamous internet trolls. troll

Ugly little things, right? Unlike the devious computer trolls, who like to play on people’s frustrations and crash software programs JUST as you’re moving towards the save button, internet trolls are actually real people. I know, shocked right? These trolls are disguised as humans. Instead of playing on pure frustration for technology, these tricky trolls play more with emotions, invoking sadness, anger, hate and inspiring arguments around a vast and rather unpoliced space. The internet trolls like to leave nasty comments and start long-winded arguments on other peoples’ spaces in the interwebz and then sit back and watch the fire storm that usually follows.

I, personally, have been found by one local internet troll (thank you IP address tracker). Basically this can only, really mean one thing…I am now a real blogger!! *big grin* For those of you out there who can’t shrug off that kind of verbal diarrhera, I am sorry that you have to deal with trolls. I hear they like to eat goats. realdeal

If you are curious about my stats (if you are, you are one step ahead of me…it wasn’t until I read another blog that I realized I even had a “Year in Review”), I have posted them for you to ohhhh and ahhhh over. ‘Til next time folks!

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The new Boeing 787 Dreamliner can carry about 250 passengers. This blog was viewed about 1,500 times in 2012. If it were a Dreamliner, it would take about 6 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Rocking Resolutions and a Year in Review

Well folks, I know you’ve all been waiting on baited breath waiting for my traditional “year in review” post. 

Wait…what?  You haven’t been waiting at all?  Pffffttt.  Well, too bad.  I’m writing it anyway.

I’ve been mulling this post over in my head for a while and have even started it a couple of times but couldn’t really decide the direction I wanted to go in.  So I decided to revist my last year’s post to see what I had to say waaaay back then and in doing so, I was reminded of those nasty trolls.  Damn it!  Why did I have to re-read that post.  So, because I usually have to do the same things over and over many times in order to learn my lesson, I decided to revisit that ridiculous website that basically rolls the dice for your resolution (go ahead – I dare you:http://www.moninavelarde.com/newyears/) .  Really, I need to start learning my lessons the first time through.  So, with the same snarky grin on my face, I press the “gimme more” button…

First “roll”: Follow through.

I. Kid. You. Not. Already I know I shouldn’t have hit that button, already I know that this is not going to be the funny, I-pulled-one-over-on-the-universe trick I thought it was going to be.  Shit.  Follow through huh…ok.  I totally get that.  I’m terrible for making plans and then breaking them.  Volunteering for something and just bailing at the last moment.  It also swings into my parenting techniques.  I am the mother of a thousand chances and zero follow-through.  That technique has failed me once, I’ll be damned before I let it affect how the other two turn out.  Follow through…<mumble mumble grumble>…fine.  I’ll work on it.  BUT that’s not a resolution.

Second “roll” (yes, I am really stubborn to a fault): Let go

<insert extreme profanity here>…ok trolls.  I know you’re capable of funny.  I know that you’re capable of humour.  This is supposed to be a funny website.  You, website, are failing.  Epicly.   Let go.  Ok, I get it.  I really, really need to learn this.  I even know I need to learn this.  I even said it to my darling husband just the other day.  “Q1 for counsellor: How do I let things go” – or something along those lines.  Really, it’s my Achilles heel.  I obsess and mull things over for WAY too long, I let it stress me out, I get all tense over it.  Letting go.  Novel thought.  Good skill, guess I’ll have to practice that.  I still don’t think those trolls are funny.

Finally, thinking to myself that this stupid website has made it’s point, I click the button one more time…: Start a piggie bank.

I have never glared at a computer screen so hard in my ENTIRE life.  Alright, alright.  I call mercy.  I get it.  The universe is not just trying to send me a message but she’s slapping me straight upside the head with it. 

In all seriousness though, for the first time, I feel that I actually did make personal progress in 2012.  I can feel it in my own self.  It’s not so much how I do things or even what I’m doing.  It’s a great culmnation of things that are coming together.  I find myself calmer in some ways and more intense in others, except now it’s in the right ways.  I am slowly working to quiet that hateful little voice in my head and even in the hardest moments, when I want to just let ‘er rip, I tell her to sit down and STFU.  She has no place in my life now.  I feel like I am taking the time to really look at myself and those around me, analyse their words, watch their actions and really try to understand them.  I finally, for the first time in my life, am taking a stand with the people in my life.  I have never been good at drawing boundaries.  Lie to me, hit me, disrespect me, use me, make fun of me – I was always more worried about having people in my life vs having quality relationships.  I’m not doing that anymore.  I deserve better than that because I am better than that.  For the first time in my life, I believe I am a good person and deserve better than that.

What will 2013 bring?  Who knows.  We weren’t supposed to get this far.  For me though, it will be much of the same.  Though I have no trophies to display or plaques to hand around, I am proud of my accomplishments over this past year.  I am fighting some of the toughest battles anyone can fight. I am over coming years of mental conditioning that I am not good enough, not important enough, only loved if I’m a certain way.  I am slowly overcoming serious depression without medication (hence shutting up that wicked bitch in the back of my mind).  I am battling anxiety, a highly misunderstood, nearly invisible thing, without medication.  And I’m fighting those battles for me – also a first.

So I guess, even though I always claim to not make resolutions, I do in a way.  They just aren’t based on a year.  I am resolved to live the happiest life I can. 

Happy New Year to you all.  I hope 2013 is everything you hope it will be

Ok, ok, ok…you all know I didn’t stop at three clicks right?  Here are the rest:

Be a leader

Strike up a convo with a stranger

Be true to myself and others

Sing in the shower (FINALLY!)

Join a choir (what’s with the singing?  I am NOT a good singer)

Be happy

and finally…carpool.  Very funny trolls.  Very funny.

Dreamscapes and Landslides

I have been told that I am a vivid dreamer and I agree.  My dreamscapades are radical, entertaining, realistic and memorable.  It isn’t often that I dream and then don’t remember.  My dreams fascinate me.  They give me something to think about, to analyze, to delve into; however, when I wake, I go about my life in a doldrum fashion. I give very little thought or analysis to the “why’s” in my life.  I hardly glance at the needs, wants and desires of my soul.  The urge to spread my wings, expand my mind, expand my bubble – ultimately expand my life.

Lately I have been trying to rationalize the vast difference in my dream world vs my waking world.  I’ve been thinking why am I enjoying my dreamscapes so much but completely, and utterly, ignoring my wakescape (yea, I made that up).  Why is it that I’m not building a world of wonder while I’m awake?  Why am I holding myself back while I’m awake but letting it rip while I’m asleep.  I mean really, I spend about the same amount of time in each place.

In my dreams, I don’t let people walk on my heart, I don’t justify hurt, I prioritize myself, I literally live “dream big” …so why am I not giving myself that same respect during my waking hours?  No matter how hard I try, I simply can’t put it together.

I look around the world and every now and again I am touched by a soul who is amazing, brilliant, and so full of life and light that it’s palpable.  And I want that…no, I crave that.  And I know it’s there for the taking…I just need to reach out and take it.  I suspect that fulfilment, enrichment, a nourished soul is not so much found in a bucket of kale or a gallon of water but rather it’s learning the talent of making your life “right”.  Those moments that make your heart and/or soul hurt take something from you, they take away a bit of rightness until the moment comes where every waking hour no longer feels “right”. 

I want my life to feel right.  I want to bounce out of bed and greet each day with enthusiasm and joy.  I want the people in my life to support me, love me, value me.  I want to talk with people who talk back, who engage in conversation and have an honest interest in what I have to say.  I want people in my life who can recognize that I’m practicing being vulnerable, that I’m not perfect, that I need tenderness and support.  I want people in my life who see me as more than something to posess.  I’m not just a body to use, I’m not a soul that can be claimed.  I want people in my life that inspire me to share who I am, that care about me just as much as I care about them and that aren’t afraid to show it.  I deserve that.  I want to make my dreams my waking life too.

Fixing the broken

I’m baaaaack….didja miss me?

I’ve spent the last while in an incredibly introspective space. I needed that. Because of my retreat to the brain space, I’ve had time to think about me, who I was, who I am and who I want to be. End result? I’m becoming more and more comfortable in my skin as days go by and I am taking the time to think about the things that have, do and will define me as a person.  In short, I am figuring out who I am, what I want my legacy to be and how to make that happen.

The problem with my braincation and my love of analyzing myself is it is always a prime opportunity for me to totally diss me.  I am one of the many who let that horrible, terrible voice run rampant in my head.  I love to criticize, degrade and totally berate myself and I’m good at it.  The effects are endless.  I have Major (yes, capital M) issues with confidence, worth, respect, love, kindness, passion, trust.  Despite those issues, I’ve been working on moving from a place where those issues define my being to a place where those things are part of my being.  Easy peasy, right?. Not.

For many years, I allowed sexual power, manipulation, dishonesty, chaos, drama and darkness to rule my world.  Mostly because I didn’t want to have real quiet because with the quiet creeps up time to think.  With thinking comes realizations and I didn’t want to make any of those realizations. I wasn’t ready to make any of those realizations.  I was using negativity to distract myself from the real conversations I needed to have with myself. Basically, negativity was my security blanket.

Then one day…something happened.  Something changed.  I changed.

I followed my usual motis operandi and I became a part of something I shouldn’t have.  Why? Well, simply because I could. I needed to flex my power, flex my allure and flex the inevitable destruction that would follow. I needed to see, feel and be in that state one more time.  I needed that to realize that I didn’t want that and that I am more than that. To me, this past blunder represents so much of my time and energy over the years. I wasn’t just feeling the effects of this one time, I was feeling and sort of reliving all of the “one times” I’ve had over the years. I’ve gone through the gamut of emotions. Guilt, indignation, anger, denial, acceptance, shame, cruelty, justification, enlightenment, happiness, terrified, free and at peace.  I have accepted responsibility for my part in all of the hurts I’ve caused, to my current spouse, former quasi-spouse, children, friends, family and most importantly, to myself.

I often tell tales of days gone by and of “how I used to be”.  I used to be: skinny, hot, sexy, crazy, willing to do anything (and anywhere I might add), a bitch, fun, outgoing, easy-going, up for anything and someone you wanted to party with. Once upon a time I was proud of that. Now, when I think of my “used to be’s” all I hear is…I used to be insecure, unable to be trusted, confused, lacking in morals and strong values, superficial, and unstable.  I want my future to be defined with “I am’s”. So…

I am leaving my “used to be’s” where they belong. In my past.

I am letting go.

I am no longer that girl.

I am no longer broken.

These lyrics say it all (I changed them slightly to reflect my singular self)…

Never underestimate the fight in me

Ollie ollie ollie ollie let me free

You can never hold me down…

Rising up is all the rage…

You’ll never keep me locked…locked up

I’m like a Lion in a Cage

 

21 years

21 years is a long time.  7665 days,  1092 weeks and 2/3 of my life.  It is also the length of time that has gone by since my father passed away. 

That number baffles me.  I remember when the 1 year mark went by, the 5 year, the 10 year…and now over 20 years has gone by.  A whole lifetime.  My whole lifetime…almost.

The funny thing is, even though he’s gone, I still think of him each and every day.  I often wonder if he would be proud of me.  I wonder if he would like the person I’ve become.  All questions I will never have the answers to.

I miss you Dad, even though I don’t really know you.

Wasting wishes and saying I’m sorry

I was asked, not long ago, who the most evil person I know is.  At first, I didn’t know how to answer or who to name, mostly because the only person that came to my mind was me.  Eventually, I gave that answer and  I stand by it now.

Webster defines evil as:

a : morally reprehensible : sinful, wicked

b : arising from actual or imputed bad character or conduct

So based on those definitions, I am the most evil person I know.  Do I go around abusing small children and killing animals?  No.  Do I go around tearing the hearts out of my friends?  Apparently.
 
For so long I believe I had changed.  I believed I lived a cleaner, more pure life.  For so long I’ve kept my head in the sand.  For so long, I’ve tricked my own self into believing that I’ve grown as a person, become wiser, learned from my mistakes.  It took one moment, one look on one person’s face to realize that I had lied to myself for a long time.  That’s probably the worse kind of lie too.  To tell myself that I’ve grown, gotten better, upped my morals and standards is a complete crock.  I am no better now than I used to be.
 
I regret my decisions and my actions.  I regret changing the course of our futures without so much as a second thought.  If I could take it all back, I would.  But I can’t.  I can’t take it back, like words already spoken, hanging in the air, it’s out there now.  The truth of me and my character are laid bare and open for examination.  I promise you this…I will examine myself, my character and the driving forces behind them.  I will make this right.  I will make changes to ensure I no longer hurt those I care about.  Maybe you’ll be around to see it, maybe you won’t.  Maybe you’ll feel it in your heart, maybe you won’t.  I know I never want to feel again the way I do right now.  I know I don’t want to spend more sleepless nights shedding tears for something I caused. 
 
I’m not sure if you’ll ever hear me out.  I’m not sure if you’re willing to go there.  The ball is in your Court now.  Just know that I am sorry, so very, very sorry…and with that, here is my letter to you.
 

Dear Friend,

I am sorry.  I know that is a weak word, one that is over-used  and under-meant.  I am not one for wasting wishes but I wish to take this all back.  I didn’t realize the place you held in my heart and I didn’t realize how much I cared for you until the moment where I could see the pain and betrayal reflected in your eyes.  I could see, very clearly, how badly I hurt you.  I am sorry it took events such as these to bring that to light.

My intent was never to hurt you, which sounds so vulgur and juvenile because what other outcome could there have possibly been?  I am disappointed in myself and ashamed of my actions.

I hope that we can repair the damage that’s been done.  I hope that we can talk, openly and honestly and move past this moment.  I don’t care what I have to do…or how I have to do it…I want to gain your trust.  I want to fix this but I completely understand if you don’t.

I will miss you.  Light-hearted banter, playful jabs and more common interests than either of us cared to admit…I will miss you my Friend, I already do.