Title does not = Entitlement.

It’s rampant these days. People everywhere, kids and adults, feeling they are entitled to something because they’ve suffered enough, they’ve worked hard enough, sat on their butts long enough, or they had sex and popped out a baby; therefore, the world owes them something…they deserve something. Recently Entitlement reared its filthy head at me and I felt like I was in a scene from a horror flick. The lack of respect of personal, physical, and life space that some have is absolutely unconscionable to me. For some one in my life or even outside of my life to assume they are entitled to any relationship with me is absurd and that individual knows NOTHING about me. I have never felt so violated, disgusted…poisoned. Like someone had reached inside me and twisted my guts up just to disperse some of the poison running around inside them. It was complete and utter selfish ENTITLEMENT. Those of you that feel entitled to something…those of you that EXPECT things…no wonder your life is full of disappointment, regret, hatred and hurt. No wonder your heart needs a root canal. Why can’t you realize you cannot own another human being? When will you realize you must let go of people? We must let go of others changing. Most people will never change. And even if they do it is foolish to assume you can will it done. Most of us will never get an explanation of why didn’t they…? Why won’t they…? When will they…?. How could they…? We must accept that we cannot have expectations of others and then heaven forbid the cross you bare may get a bit lighter. I am adopted. As a child, I did not know the difference between blood and title. I grew up relating a title to a person and that I should hold those people higher, dearer, and nearer than any others, but then I saw the horrible things people with a title could do to one another. Not to mention the litany of horrid stories in the news about the way “family” treated each other all around the world. What “family” would harm one of their own? What “family” would harm a child? What “family” would hurt their husband or wife? What “family” would turn away from each other? What “family” would take advantage of each other? Hate does not exist in Family. Since becoming an adult I have gained the proper vocabulary to express what I know family to be. Family--people who exhibit family values and love. Family- people who care for you and respect you. Family- people who listen to what’s in your heart and you can trust with that information. Family- people who do not judge. People who listen…really listen not just wait for their turn to speak. People who know what you like and participate in what you like just because they want to be with you. People that sacrifice convenience to show you support. People that risk for you. People that stand up for you. People that honor you. People that can let days, months go by without a word and when you see them it is like no time has past. People that forgive. People that encourage you to strive for what you want and the courage to back your decisions, not to mention their own. People that have ZERO expectations. I have grown very firm in the fact there is no title or blood connection that deems ANYONE family to me. Beyond the title of Mother, beyond the unconditional love one might connect to a Mom, My Mom and I have a mutual respect and understanding. There is selflessness in our relationship. There is a point where my mother and I had to let each other go and say…that person is who is they are and it is not my place to try and change that, cage that, or hamper that spirit. This person who has raised me, and cared for me, and held my hand until I was strong enough to stand on my own and that will immediately take it again when I reach for it. That fine line of being my best friend and my authority figure. My teacher, my mentor that lets my own choices and life be my teacher. But knows just how much push I need. She knows me. She pays attention and remembers. Complimentary, not creepy, excessive or superficial. Never tries to cage me, stop me, clip me, leash me, own me, claim me, or exploit me. Brilliant woman. For these things, I am VERY clear who I call Mother. She has EARNED her title. The fact that there are people in my life who get hurt and angry because I don’t take more time for them or don’t include them or don’t acknowledge them in the way they wish, should look at why. They should look at the relationship they have established with me. Not the relationship they wish to have with me. And if they wish to have a relationship with me they should listen first. Quiet their poisonous minds and pay attention to me. Please note: I have no time for people that are soul suckers. I have no energy in me to give to people who are black holes. I have no place in my calendar for those with an admiring mouth in front of a trapping heart. If one would try to live their life in a place of open heart, open mind, and open ears and they might get a glimpse of “heaven on earth”. A lesson in letting go you will never forget. Because I have let go of expectation I can love more freely and get hurt far less. Please take a tip from me and LET ME GO. Let your love chakra be open. Put it down at the feet of your God. Do what ever it is you need to do to un-entitle yourself or I will grab a hold of your filthy entitled face and do it for you.

Maiden...Mother...Crone

The rebirth began one year ago. What an amazing year it has been. My eyes are still sore and foggy since first being opened. It’s odd…that feeling of déjà vu, knowing I have been here before, knowing some things innately somehow. It’s all so new, this skin. I feel like a Shar-pei. It’s gonna take a while to grow into it. I feel wobbly and irritated I can’t control everything. I, like most children, desperately want to run before I can crawl. I try to be patient with myself, my new body & mind, and especially the world around me, but since I cannot shake the experience of my former self I believe all, especially me, should be farther along than this. The fact that others see me as that youth is quite laughable for me. I feel the wisdom of my former self creeping into my gaze and yet I feel the naivety of this newness consume my everything else.

In my last “life” I felt quite certain I was an old soul. I had a certain built in sixth sense, third eye, intuition…call it what you like. When I first read about the stages of goddess in my spiritual books I thought, I am most definitely crone. I felt not that I had arrived, but that I had nothing fresh to bring. I felt defeated and that I had already bloomed. My time had come and gone. Waiting to die. I thought, ‘give myself back to the earth to enable another great spirit to cycle into my place’. I guess that’s why I felt I should play these mature roles. I felt naturally I should play mothers, grown women who had experienced life and the world and were over flowing with wisdom. I felt that I was blessed with a large, lower speaking voice and therefore, born matronly. I wished to heal, help, and educate everyone around me. My last great gift to the world.

So when first out the gate in this “new” body, skin, life…the shade of my former self says, “I am a mother, I am no longer a maiden and I am ready invoke Norma Desmond”. It’s ok, laugh. It’s quite entertaining what became my truth. But then to hear others place me younger….to hear others guess my age…to get into my bones and feel how jovial and vibrant all that is within me…I AM MAIDEN.

But when one reads further one learns that the triple goddess can also be represented by 3 sisters. All at different stages of growth, power, & wisdom. Each has gifts and each depends on the other to create the whole of the female spirit. Goddess. This completely explains the tugging and pulling of emotion and understanding. I am a spirit renewed and thus get to enjoy the vulnerability and naivety of youth. I still feel some bits of whole life experiences, but with questioning, second guessing, hesitation. I can be the nurturer, the caregiver, the bridge, but with unbridled excitement of what’s coming next. Only this time, it can be pure and I can be naked in front of everyone. Judge me if you dare. I don’t care. I know what’s coming next.

The stages of me. Me…on stage.

My Fight for Lemonade

Welcome to my highly functioning bipolarity. I have been able to thrive without medication for 9 years. NINE years. I have kept a pretty decent balance of mind/body for a loooong time now. No new scars, minimal toxins, a physique that I have maintained in a healthy manner. A strong & happy marriage. A healthy, well balanced child I have raised. A home, a car, a job. I am a functioning and contributing member of society. I am good person with very few enemies. Soooo, what's the problem? Why the disconnect? I don't sit on my butt and beg for others to take care of me. I don't mooch off the backs of others. I don't expect or ask anything from anyone. What is left? Something must be left. I've been given these damn bipolar lemons and I feel like I've tried juicing them, cutting them & squeezing them. Hell, I've tried sticking julienned pieces of my bipolar lemons through a garlic press to make some fucking lemonade and I barely get a drop. WTF?!

How do you push, pull, or pick yourself up? Gather up those lemons & try again? I understand the logistics of it...one foot in front of the other, one thing at a time. BUT- Why does it seem like every process is so damn hard for me and not for others? I'm "slow to develop" is one reason I've been told. Fuck that! Why is it not my turn? I sound like a little kid pouting. Yuck. But seriously, how do you love yourself and accept yourself for who you are when everything, every sign around you tells you you must be better, you must be prettier, you must be skinnier, you must be more talented. You must, you must, you must. More, More, More. It's survival of the fittest, isn't it? Clearly I am not one of the fittest. I'm not nearly as hard as I think I am. I was not able to handle NYC because my emotional/mental state would not allow me. Everything sucked that much more. The smallest rejection sends me spiraling out of control. I immediately want to tear down the world. Eat & drink everything terrible for me, want to ingest anything that will give me even just a moment of comfort. I want to scream at everyone, "What the fuck is so wrong about me?!?!?!" I say terrible things about me. I would do terrible things to me if I were still there...in that dark spiral that I found myself in in NYC. I would not could not in NYC. But here...here I can.

Here I have reasons to keep it together and fight. Here, I have my husband, my security by no bounds. Unabashed love and comfort that makes everything better. Here, I have my son. My son. Even saying it now brings a wave of warmth over me. His energy resuscitates mine. His voice and the light in his eyes smacks my wobbly weakness back straight. I have my mom, and all my amazing family. The purest love without condition. I have fantastic friends that remain even when I disappear into the dark place. It matters that I am depended upon. I depend on all of it more than I care to admit. I'm a fighter that needs a coach, that needs a training team. I have always had my eye on a prize, but when my eyes get beat til they're swollen shut, it's so hard to see. I have to accept I cannot do this alone. I have to rely on my heart and my ears. My sense of touch. From getting knocked around so, I lose sense of space and time. I have to accept that the prize cannot be all that I am. If I let success in this consume me I will crumble. I don't have to suffer in silence. It's okay if I cry, scream, and want to crawl in a hole, lean on the ropes. Just like every time before this I must return to the corner no matter what shape I am in, look at how far I've come and realize it's not over yet. I still have my team in my corner, and fans in the seats. Put the f'ing cold compresses on those eyes, let the energy of the room soak in through my feet and raise me up. Just get up. No matter how much it hurts. Get up Heth'r. GET UP. GET UP!! Eat some lemons and sweat, cry, bleed out some fucking lemonade.