A man I knew many years ago, once said something to me that has stayed with me all my life. But it is only recently, have I taken his words as a lesson.
I will tell you from now, that whatever I write today is going to be very frank and bluntly honest, because I don’t know any other way of expressing what I feel.
An unusual friendship
At the time I think I was about 25, so about 25 years ago, and I did not take offence at what he said, because it wasn’t said to be offensive or to hurt me. I believe that he really saw into me, and saw something that I still had to discover for myself. He was a few years older than me, and we had struck up this unusual friendship, that we both knew would never be more than it was. He was a Sikh, and I obviously wasn’t, but that didn’t get in the way of our friendship. There was never any question of anything else happening between us we just took it, for what it was.
I remember this occasion so clearly, because we were sat in a local pub, both drinking soft drinks, and I guess he must have been observing me and given it some thought, because he turned to me and said, I quote:
“You could have either been a Princess or a fucking whore!”
I never asked him why he said it, or by what he meant, I just kind of took it on board and accepted it. But so many times over these years, his words have come back, resonating loudly through me. And each time, it has made me stop and think. The statement itself, is a dichotomy, and as such there is no absolute answer to its’ meaning. However, time and again, I am given reason to revisit that particular day, and each time I have reached new conclusions, and gain a better understanding of where he might have been coming from. I don’t actually recall if I saw him again after that, but it is true that words can leave a remarkable footprint. I don’t know whether he knew, that his words would have a lasting impact or not, but I do see the absolute truth in them; which goes to the very root of me.
The Ugly Duckling
I have never looked at myself as being some great beauty, in fact I only really became aware of my looks when I reached the age of 26. I never really appreciated what made me attractive to the opposite sex, or noticed that I had blossomed, until I began to hear what the men around me said. Throughout school and college, no one had expressed any particular interest of that kind in me, so I never thought I was anything special. I didn’t look in the mirror and see something stunning reflecting back at me, as far as I was concerned, I was just ordinary. I associated myself with the story of “The ugly duckling”, that later became a swan. But it would seem that I had changed and blossomed, even though I couldn’t see it myself, and still don’t even today!
I have repeated what this man said, to few people both male and female, only to gauge what they might understand. The general response from the women has always been to take immediate offence, and the guys are always reluctant to share their thoughts; which has only served to confirm that my own thoughts are right. And this saddens me, because I have been a victim, caught up in something, that I have only just realised I have unwittingly played a part in.
His statement would suggest that somehow there is a choice to be made. A choice between being either a Princess or a fucking whore, but that choice or decision does not exist, nor it is one for me to make. It is made by what attitude the men I have encountered in my life, have of me. They decide what it is they want from me, they decide, if I am the princess or the whore, and they treat me accordingly.
The simple truth
But the simple truth as I believe it to be, is that I am both. In truth, I am a princess, but on a romantic level; virtually every man that I have come across has only ever treated me like a whore. No wonder I have become so disillusioned.
And knowing and understanding this fact, is horrible. It is not something I am willing to accept.
All my life, I have been in search of love. True, genuine, sincere and real love. And yet I have seldom felt it. I give out enough of it, and get pretty much fuck all back… apart from men wanting to literally fuck me or fuck me over. Like I said at the start, some of you may think I am being foolish, that maybe I should be grateful for this kind of attention, that it’s a boost to the ego. But what it has achieved is that all I see are men looking at me, like I’m a piece of meat or plaything, and nothing more.
The first time I signed up for a dating site, it didn’t take long before I realised that finding sincerity let alone true love, was going to be difficult. Within a matter of weeks, I said to my friends, that I had a “fuckable face”, not a nice term, but a factual one nonetheless. I came up with this, after so many men made it perfectly clear what they would like to do, either to me or with me. They saw me, and just wanted to fuck me, and nothing else.
None of them read my profile or asked anything about me. But they had assumed that it was okay to speak to me like this, with such disrespect; as though my own feelings didn’t even come in to it. They were attracted to me, and that was enough. As though that was all I was also looking for, meaningless sex and ‘no strings attached’ relationships. Needless to say, I soon put them straight and then some, but after a while it began to hurt. And if it wasn’t sex they wanted, they put in a lot of effort to woo me, in order to extort money from me, with their sad, sorry tales of sudden misfortune, with which only I could help. I have come across them all.
Spreading my legs…
On 2 recent holidays, I was constantly harassed by men of all ages, shapes and sizes, all thinking they would have a go. As if, just a few nice words were enough for me to fall down, spread my legs, and invite them all in. I never asked for or solicited any of this attention, but I got it anyway. I had begun to think that I had some sign on my forehead only visible to men, it made me feel quite paranoid. It made me feel angry and sad.
I am sure I am not alone in this, but as a woman it is not a compliment to be made to feel like this. To be thought of in this way, certainly doesn’t boost my ego or make me feel good in the slightest. Maybe if I were still young (& wild), I might have appreciated this or even made the most of it. But in truth I was never that girl, and I will never be that woman. I guess I am angry, because I never believed that men could be that shallow, and it saddens me, because they have no idea about everything else that they are missing out on. Everything else that makes me, me, everything else that is hidden just beneath the skin of what they perceive, because that is where my true beauty exists.
And so those words that were spoken to me all those years ago, are still in my head and remain so utterly true. My conclusion to all this, is that I am both a Princess and a whore, and what men have to learn about me is that,
‘If they treat me like a Princess, maybe I will also be their whore, but if they treat me like a whore, they get nothing at all’.
And as for ‘that’ man, I believe he saw that in me, and if circumstances had been different, who knows where we might be.
But I thank him, because I have never felt such honesty since.
I would be very interested in hearing your thoughts… Sx ❤️
If you are interested in any of my work, or have any queries please feel free to contact me using the form below. 🙂
If you are interested in any of my work, or have any queries please feel free to contact me using the form below.🙂
This house, which was once my home, has (I hope) been sold today. It marks the end of an era. An end to a large chapter of my life. And the beginning of feelings of displacement, as I search for a new place to call ‘home’.
When I bought this house 12 and half years ago, it was a time when my relationship had felt secure; and I was willing to make a financial commitment, with the man that became my husband. Up until that point I had been completely independent, having already owned two previous homes, and coped very well on my own, thank you. But somehow, it seemed like the next most natural step, it had felt like the right thing to do, at the time.
After his children left to live with their mum, my ex, all but moved in with me, even though he had his own place still. It wasn’t at my request that he moved in, he’d just decided he didn’t want to be on his own, in his own home any more. And that was it, he never left.
It became time to move on again, and that’s when I found this place. This house talked to me, from the moment I saw it from outside, before I had even knocked on the door. I knew that I had found the right place. As I walked round on my first viewing, I had already pictured how I was going to put love back into this house. It had been lonely for too long, with it’s single occupant, who had been here since the day it was built. She had got married, raised a family and was eventually left alone for years, until her son decided to look after her. I did a lot for her before the final day; and I always thought that she seemed happy to be selling her home on to me. Almost as if she knew I would indeed continue to take care of it.
And that’s just what I did. However, I think I did a bit more than she might have anticipated!
We both planned and designed our home, but decor and furnishings etc, were my department. All my furniture, bar the essentials were put in storage, and within 6 months of roughing it; all building works were completed, the house was completely renovated, extended, re-arranged and bought up to date. It was a tough six months, of sleeping rough, being cold and having no kitchen to speak of. While this was going on, my ex still had his house, and was able to avoid most of the discomfort, I had to endure. But, it was done. I worked hard on making this house, our home, my home, transforming it over the years, until it became what it is now.
It wasn’t long before my concerns for my financial security were proved right, I had made a mistake. A big mistake. And there was nothing I could do about it, except to bide my time, watch, listen and learn. In the end, it proved to be a very expensive mistake, and I have since spent a long time contemplating it. I could have taken action or fought for it, but decided it just wasn’t worth it. Money has never been my king, so I opted for the peaceful process, which proved just as painful. But anyway, long story, short, I got my fingers severely burnt!
Bear in mind, that I had been separated from ex since Oct 2012, he had initially said he would leave, but due to circumstances we’ve had to share the same roof space. And still do to this day, which has not been easy by any definition, the last 15 months being possibly the worst of my life.
I have digressed a little, but I suppose the point I am trying to make is that, there were a lot of ‘beginnings’, and ‘endings’ in this house. These walls have witnessed and absorbed so much of my life. It echoes my unhappiness when I am here on my own. My home, for the last 15months, became two rooms, my bedroom and my ‘snug’, I have given up on using the rest of the house, unless it’s necessary. My snug is where my world happens, it is my place of peace, calmness, inspiration, creativity, imagination and so on. My snug is, ‘MY’ space. My bedroom, is for rest, rejuvenation and quiet times, or for when I want to feel music in me. Both spaces are my sanctuaries. no stress is allowed across either of these rooms’ thresholds.
But going back, it was the first time I had ever properly lived with someone, actually shared a life. At the beginning, we both has so many hopes and dreams about our future, as it was back then. We have shared some precious moments here, there have been many occasions when we have created memories, on our own or with other people. There was once love here, but that too has since evaporated, dissipated into thin air, like all other kind feelings, and nice thoughts. Now I am reminded of arguments, discussions, conversations, tears and so on, as I go from room to room.
This house, is also the place, where I first seriously became ill, and continue to be so, this is the place where my world fell apart, and bad health became a constant companion. I had aways thought having the hospital so close by, was a good thing. But I didn’t appreciate just how much time I would get to spend there, for one reason or another. As my health deteriorated, and so did everything else.
But I loved this house, it was ‘me’ all over. But since things went wrong, I have come to see that I need to create a new home, somewhere else, another place where I can start my dreams and hopes afresh. This house is the only thing that still binds us together, mentally and emotionally, I left this place a long time ago, now I need to physically follow it through
In the last few years, this house has seen so much anger, resentment, bitterness, bereavement, and the true colours of our individual rainbows. It has seen the end of many things, and now the planning stages of new horizons.
On the whole, it was the best thing I could ever have done. I am not one to generally walk away, but this time it was about saving my own life from an inevitable misery that laid ahead. Now, I am a happy person. Now, I have a stress-free life, unless it’s brought to my door like bunches of flowers or via the telephone line…
It’s been nearly 4 and a half years since I moved on, and the place I found (by luck more than anything), has become my home and sanctuary. I had many battles to fight along the way, with my physical, emotional and mental health. As well as a mountain of excess baggage, I desperately needed to off load. But, I got here in the end, and feel a hell of better for it.
It took me a long time, to deal with the fallout of everything that had happened in the last 4/5 years. It took me much longer than I had expected to fully heal and repair myself, after all it was a traumatic experience. There are pieces from that past, that are still wedged into me. These fragments will be reawakened from time to time, when triggered by someone’s words or behaviour toward me. I have a very quick flinch response in that respect.
It’s a fact I can’t help, but it serves to protect my fragile heart and feelings, because I absolutely refuse to ever walk down that same path or road again.
It may well have ruined me, in a way that I find it difficult to visualise living with another man again. Ruined me to the point, I don’t know if I will ever trust another man; and always look at actions and behaviour, more than whatever words he may say.
I feel something inside of me has hardened. I’ve a much sturdier shell than before, to deflect as much negativity as I can. I have a different mindset. I am less tolerant and more vocal about not accepting bad behaviour and manners. But most of all I try to live the life I often speak of.
I am still very soft within, but that part of me is now slightly harder to reach. Sx❤️
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Straight from the heart: 24. The breakdown of a relationship
The opposite of love
People often mistakenly think that the opposite of love, is hate… but they are so, so wrong. Hate, like love is something that involves passion, there is true emotional feeling behind it. You can hate something or someone with so much passion, that it might as well be love, for the sheer power or strength you put behind it to bring those feelings out.
The opposite of love, is surely indifference; you simple don’t care anymore, it doesn’t matter to you, you don’t ‘feel’ anything, it’s almost irrelevant.
I did love my ex-husband. However, I am not sure if I ever truly fell ‘in’ love with him, for me to fall ‘out’ of love with him!
The vicious cycle
But I knew my feelings for him became less and less, as time went by. It had become a vicious cycle, I saw too much of his ugliness, to appreciate what good was left. The endless number of futile arguments/ discussions/ debates, always about the same things, took care of that. And they seemed to revolve on a quarterly basis. I got tired of having the same conversations repeatedly, that would eventually, (in spite of any initial well-intended attempts to achieve balance again), lead nowhere. Until another 3 months or so passed, and we would have the same conversation all over again, each time trying to gauge if we had moved forward, backward or stayed the same. I never felt any motion.
In the meantime, he continued with ‘his’ life, and I neither moved up or down on his agenda. In fact, I always told him that I took position no: 8, in his life. It was a position I soon realised I had to learnt to accept, there was no point in insisting I be higher up than that. It was made abundantly clear to me, that his work, his hobbies, his friends and his family came first. Always. And on those very few occasions when I held his time or attention, I began to question his sincerity, doubted his actions, and always knew there was an ulterior motive. He had a “get round to it” attitude, and that was used toward me as well. So therefore, I always had to wait – for everything. But if I didn’t put him first? Oh my goodness, he became like a brattish child, constantly whining, and wanting attention.
I wised up to his game a long while back, and every time these ‘chats’ happened, I took another step further away from him, creating distance in all senses.
I should have heeded my silent alarms, that in fact this was his second time round.
All the time he was busy blaming his ex-wife, I couldn’t help but notice and acknowledge reasons, why she would have been unhappy; and why things had perhaps gone wrong for her. He was completely blameless, of course. As he had said himself, he just “worked his arse off”, to earn a living. But that was all he did. Even when she was suffering with depression, and needed his love and support, he did nothing. He gave her no support, no help, no love, no kindness whatsoever. And then wondered why she picked up and left, leaving him behind with 2 kids. Especially as it was after a number of affairs on her part, and they had been ‘trying’ to ‘save’ their marriage.
History repeating itself
I once said to him about 4 years ago, that he was repeating his own history, his own life story all over again. He was shocked by my intuition, but then he always was. But he was never ‘ready’ to talk about his previous life and marriage. Even after 16 years of being with me, he still took no blame, and still couldn’t bring himself to admit that he’d ‘fucked up’. Harder still, was his denial that he was doing the same things to me. But in the end, it cost him dearly, he had already started the process of losing me… about the only thing he ever actually got round to doing.
You can spend a life time with someone, and still never really know them. Or you may have suspicions about certain personality traits, and wonder where they came from, what was the influence for a persons’ behaviour. But all the time we are happy, we never really see the ugly side, and we certainly don’t go looking for it. But it’s when things are not so good anymore, for instance during or after an argument, that we notice their negative qualities. That’s when we see their selfishness, tightness, temper, and experience the venom they can spit or speak – I suppose all the qualities of hatred.
My ex, became very ugly. Ridiculous almost, with some of the things he did to ‘get at me’. Initially, I was so hurt and frustrated by his actions. I couldn’t get my head round why he could do the things he was doing, or the fact he would sink so low. But each time he did something, it usually backfired, which meant he was the one left worse off.
But it didn’t stop him, even now that we are divorced, (but forced to live under the same roof), he still does petty things to wind me up. He is like that child, forever burning his fingers, and I wonder why he still hasn’t learnt.
I had learnt my lesson well with my ex, I had learnt him well, I had seen the hidden dragon on too many occasions to ignore its’ existence. But he didn’t frighten me, not with his words or his actions. He already knew he had no way of winning any war with me, so he just made things awkward. He knew all the time he lost his head, I just got stronger. I refused to respond to him in the way that he wanted. And that made him even more angry, but there was nothing he could do with his anger, to hurt me.
Relying on my fears
At this point, I was physically in a bad way, my health problems were savage and prolonged. But I truly believe, that he was relying on my fears, that:
My fear of managing due to not working
My fear of being on my own with my failing health
Or the fear of starting over again at the age of 49
Would all be enough of a deterrent for me, to stay put to continue with living this life.
But I had become brave. And all because ‘the lady who saved my life’, asked me one simple question:
“Why are you with him?”
That question burnt a hole in my heart. As the only answer I had to give, was that I felt responsible for him..
The wake up call
I had picked him up when he was down on his knees, and somehow I still felt responsible and continued to do so. That was the wake up call!
So, he never had a clue just how elated my heart felt, on the day when I told him:
“We don’t have a marriage anymore”.
I had known it for so long, but finally I could no longer hold the words back.
When a relationship is ending, someone has to be responsible and admit that it won’t work anymore, that you’ve come to the end of the line.
No one wants to be the be first to say it.
But someone has to.
To this moment, that day has been the most significant one in my life to date! There are course other meaningful days, but none that made me realise the absolute power I hold within myself.
That day, brought about a change, that would be forever lasting. It was the day, I took control of my life again, and decided that I valued my happiness over all else.
So now, whomever enters my life, has to keep the smile on my face and not wipe it off. Simple as that. Sx ❤️
It has taken me many years and thousands of words to get to this point of my journey; and now that I am here… I couldn’t be happier.
Until recently, I had never been brave enough, to showcase my written word to the world. But after posting on another site and getting a positive response, it seemed that launching my own site was the next natural goal to achieve.
I have only got this far, because writing is something that I love, and I have been so encouraged by readers around the world.
A new journey
This is the start of a new journey for me, and one I want to fully embrace. I am not sure how successful I will be, but I can only try my best and hope that my words reach far and wide.
So, my goals for this site are as follows:
To post at least 3 times a weeks
To actively participate and learn by visiting and reading other peoples blogs
To get my head round customising my site and using social media
To achieve a thousand reads by the end of March 2018
To eventually create my own book – long-term vision
I would like to think that these goals are not unreasonable or unreachable, but please wish me luck!
It’s now been 18 months since I created ‘a beautiful mind online’ and oh my, how I have grown since then!
I do remember having to think long and hard, about what I really wanted to achieve by creating this site. Initially, I had only planned for this to be a place to publish my written work, but as time passed; I also returned to my creative roots. And it soon became apparent that I needed a place to show my many lovely creations as well, and so my goal became to create a one stop shop for everything I do..
My self confidence has been restored, and even though I am frequently floored by illness, it has confirmed that I am still capable of many things.
As for my goals…
To post at least 3 times a week– I have done my best to achieve the goal, and have posted as often as I could, but on occasions it simply has not been possible.
To actively participate and learn by visiting and reading other peoples’ blogs– Not only did I write more, I was reading a lot more too! But after a while, it became too overwhelming, and I was spending hours on a daily basis trying to read everything. Everyday my mail box was filled with new postings, which meant I had little time for anything else.
To get my head round customising my site and using social media– I had quite a few issues when I began, but I am slowly mastering customising different areas of blogging, SEO’s, keywords etc. I now also have a ‘My kind of beautiful’ Facebook page, I am on Instagram, Tumblr and other writer/poetry websites. It is still a learning curve, but I’m getting there.
To achieve a thousand reads by the end of March 2018– I didn’t check it at the time, but it now stands at over 5000 reads and 2800 visitors.I am more than happy with that! I feel truly blessed that my words and creations have reached out and touched so many people from around the world.
To eventually create my own book – long-term vision– This goal is still very much in the pipeline, I have at least signed up to a site to help me develop this idea. I feel like I have a lot of material to start the process, but I think I need guidance on what to actually include. But this was always a long-term goal, and will probably on come into play again, once I have got this site as I want it to be…
So, on the whole, I feel I’ve done okay. And in spite of health and other factors hindering me, I have still persevered and have gone from strength to strength.
I would like to say a big thank you to you – all my readers, likers and followers, because without you guys, this would all mean nothing. And for that, I am very humble and thankful. Sx ❤️
(Sunday 14thJuly 2019)
If you are interested in any of my work, or have any queries please feel free to contact me using the form below.🙂