Changing partners

Changing partners

Where is my perfect man?

Changing partners- hand written
Changing partners- hand written

We hunt

We chase

Making pairs

Is a never-ending craze!

We hide, we seek

We laugh, we weep

All in the name of love

Match making

Score taking

What kind of game

Is this that we play?

Engagement?

Marriage?

For me?

No way!

Filling my bed

Taking away my head

Wham! Bam!

Thank you Ma’am!

Yet another score!

Become a rated number?

No chance, not anymore!

You win some

You lose some

“Plenty more fish in the sea”

I’m done with fishing

They can try and catch me!

Monday, Tuesday

Every day it’s the same

It’s one hell of a joke

This mating game!

 

Sharon Carter-Wray

(26th January 1986)

 

Previously published 14th February 2019

It is a heavy thing…

It is a heavy thing…

Don’t know where to begin

But it is a heavy thing

Weighing on my mind

Words that should be said

Feel heavy

And falter on my tongue

Remaining unspoken

Upon my lips

And silent

Within my heart instead

 

It is a heavy thing I bear

The weight of others’ woes

When none of them

Ever enquire

About my own

But I am to care

Feel their weight

Feel sadness, pity

And empathise

Obviously

Appearing whole –

Complete in their eyes

 

It is a heavy thing

That I hold deep inside

There’s little appeal

When I see their

Concern for others

And the motives

That lie behind

It is a heavy thing

That they will never see

My torment

Or the tears

I dare not cry

 

It is a heavy thing

To not say

How I really feel

 

Sharon Carter-Wray

(Thurs 9thMay 2019)

Link to: Letting go…

 

 

 

Untouched

Untouched

No one

Has ever truly touched my soul

Reached the part of me

Where the fire burns

Delivering my glow

They have used their feet

To walk circles around me

Drawing boundaries

Slow and steady as they go

Inhibiting my growth

Clasping my ambition

In a stranglehold

No one

Has ever truly reached me

Delved down

Into the corners of my mind

They have scratched

At the surface

Believing that was all

There was to find

Little did they know

My kind of beauty comes

From way down deep inside

No one

Has ever truly embraced me

In a way

That makes me feel divine

They have used their hands

To touch my body

And their fingertips

To spell out the lies

And hugged me close

With insincerity

Dancing behind their eyes

 

No one

Has ever truly known

What it is that is missing

Or what it is I seek

I’m a very complicated woman

But with very simple needs

 

Sharon Carter-Wray

(Tues 2nd April 2019)

 

 

 

 

 

Letting go: 7. Integrity

Letting go: 7. Integrity

Originally from my personal blog, “Journey through a painful body and a depressed mind”

integrity | ɪnˈtɛɡrɪti | noun [mass noun] the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles: a gentleman of complete integritythe state of being whole and undivided: upholding territorial integrity and national sovereignty• the condition of being unified or sound in construction: the structural integrity of the novel• internal consistency or lack of corruption in electronic data: [as modifier] :  integrity checking[1]

To me, in simple terms this means:

“Doing the right thing, even when no one is around to witness it”.

How to lose me

The quickest way to lose me, is to question my integrity or to show me that you have none!  It is way up there on my list of virtues, no ifs, no buts, no deviations, and no argument.

I have come across too many people that have lacked this quality, and spent far too much time in their company.  But it not something that I tolerate well, so from now on I would rather leave people who lack it, well enough alone.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(31st December 2016)

Update:

I have since learned just how much integrity means to me.  Having been on the receiving end and having witnessed so any occasions when people have demonstrated their lack of it, it has done more than raise an eyebrow, and I have lost respect for these people because of it. I have many people in my life, who don’t even know that I can write, or that I am so creative or talented in many things.  They do not know that I have been writing for years and have created more than just a personal blog.  But they chose to ignore or not see that side of me, and therefore have no comment.  I sometimes feel that people would choke on their words, if they tried to say something to me.

I suppose the question I always ask myself is:

“If they are able to do something (not good), and not think twice about it, then what else are they capable of?” 

If I have that feeling about someone, they will lose/never have my trust or be allowed full access to enter my life.

I’m not even sure why it is so important to me, but it is a trait I will look out for in the simplest actions.  It has left me cold at times, when I have watched other peoples’ behaviour, when they believe themselves unseen.  It is akin to taking pride in yourself and your conduct, and a ‘must have’ quality.

But sadly, so many people let themselves down.  Sx ❤️

[1] Taken from Apple Inc. Dictionary 2.3.0 “203.16.12)

 

I am my mothers’ child

I am my mothers’ child

As I myself, begin to grow old

And reflect on my mother’s passing

I realise just how amazing

She really was

And the legacy she left behind

She did not raise us to be

Weak-minded souls

Nor she did bear us

To not achieve

Or reach our goals

She gave us what

Our father lacked

Or seemed unable to bestow

She filled us with

Good advice,

And told us stories of old

That spoke of a lesson

Of being wise,

Said in a way

Only she could have told

The message always

Reached home

Maybe because there

Was always laughter

In her own special way

We learnt about life

So much faster

I’d like to think

That I’ve ripped a page or two

From my mamas’ book

I see myself in her so much

The way I handle things

My patience

Depending on my gut

Being independent

Honest and forthright

Having integrity

And being naturally kind

But it has taken a whole life

To understand

I am indeed my mothers’ child

Sharon Carter-Wray

(25th March 2018)

What sleeps inside you?

What is it that

Makes you smile?

That brings forth

The sun that shines inside?

What is it that

That soothes your mind

When all around

Are pushing you

To the grind?

Ignoring all your

Heartfelt cries?

What is it that

Make you weep?

Dredging up sadness

From so, so deep?

Baring wide secrets

You’d rather keep

What is it that

Makes you roar?

Breathe flames of fire

Ready to do war?

Because using words

Isn’t enough anymore

What is it that

That makes you love

Without question?

What is your true passion?

That drives you to

Do it now, not later

 

What is it that

That you need from me?

Do you need to know

What it is that I see?

I see you smile

Trying to hide your sadness

I see your tears

When you’re enslaved by madness

I know your secrets

That shield behind your roar

I have the desire

To help drive your passion

I have the right words

To calm and soothe

And enough love

For all of you

 

Sharon Carter-Wray

(Friday 8th February 2019)

 

 

Straight from the heart: 21. My fathers’ words

Straight from the heart: 21. My fathers’ words

After yet another restless night, I awoke this morning in a very contemplative mood.  After a while, this led to an epiphany which has troubled me all day.  I think I may have mentioned before, something that my father always used to say to me, being the youngest of 7 siblings; and that was

“you have got to fight for your survival, if you’re going to survive Sharon”.

At the time he meant getting my share of everything, as my brothers and sisters were always put first, and with an age gap of 5 years; I soon learned to grow up pretty quick.  And on occasions, when I have been accused of being ‘spoilt’, they have heard the bad side of my tongue, because they have no idea of the sacrifices I had to make, because of them.  My childhood, for one, they weren’t around when I needed support, they had all left and gone about their business. IMG_0079

Years later, they didn’t see the reaction I got after I gave up a college course my father had insisted that I do.  After all, I was the last chance in his eyes, I was the last chance to get it right, produce something that was well educated and would go far, a progeny he could be openly proud of.

They also didn’t see, me paying my way through college with an Avon cosmetics jobs, or that the only extra money I got, was the family allowance money (which wasn’t much), that mum gave me.  All because he flatly refused to further support me in any way, shape or form at college.  There are many, many other instances that I can recall, but I have strayed from my point.

Anyway, this morning, I got to thinking about the battles I have fought in my life to get here, you know, the times I really did have to fight for my survival.  And I started right from the very beginning, my birth.  I was born with a condition called ‘Vulvulus‘, which means a twisted intestine.  Quite a serious condition for a baby, because it meant I could not keep food down in my stomach, and was constantly vomiting.  At the time, my folks were living in London, and it took many visits to Southampton General Hospital, before I had surgery; and partly because of that I still have stomach problems today and bear a large scar to boot.  Obviously, it was touch and go, but I have always said that ‘I wasn’t meant to be here, so that’s what makes me special! 🙂

I’ve spent time revisiting my youth and adolescence, and the issues relating to that time, through to my early twenties.  I had started a business at 21, did it for a few years, then became constantly employed, I’ve had relatively few jobs in my life, because I have always stuck at things, wanting to see the end of something. UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_ff

But in actual fact, my ambition had been driven. Driven by my fathers’ words, that had never left me, even now I hear them in my head.  I took on challenging jobs, in very male dominated environments, but I knew my stuff, so no one could touch me.  I worked hard, harder that any of my employers ever deserved, only to try and climb an invisible ladder to nowhere, but empty promises.

Especially the last job, the amount of pressure I was put under, from day one.  This time I was working mainly with young men, doing Construction apprenticeship training.  I had a vast case load (popular industry), extra out of hours tasks with open evenings, giving talks to local schools, staff training and so on.  I gathered knowledge, I taught myself, I went to night school to become a trainer, I qualified earning a teaching diploma.  Then I went on to the full qualification, getting teaching practice in, and gathering certificates for anything that might be useful for the future.  But in the end, it was a non-starter.  That when the walls came tumbling down…

And now? Even though I have not worked for so many years, I am still fighting.

There was my ex husband, who had basically manipulated or abused my good nature from the onset, making demands of me when I stepped in to help his business.   I knew our relationship not quite right; I was not being recognised for anything.  He disregarded my achievements or input, everything was so one-sided; but it was my money that created the home and sanctuary, it was my money that mainly paid the bills.

Finally, when I realised that I could move no further forward, I fought to save myself through my depression, fibromyalgia, sciatica and so many other illnesses, and again during the break-up of my marriage.  I was always fighting to always do the right thing…  But the right thing for whom?

And then it struck me!

40042200_1909492615756275_1190609254218727424_nHad I really spent a large chunk of my life, living up to and going further than my fathers’ expectations?

To the point he couldn’t criticise me for things I have done for and by myself?  Maybe that was my sub-conscious goal.  I didn’t want to hear his criticisms, because he spent a lot of time criticising others for their shortfalls, as though he had none himself.

Or was it just sheer defiance in me, that has made me so determined to always do my best, and achieve as much as I can?

Or was I simply seeking some approval from my dad?

But the truth is, my father has no idea about my skills, qualifications, education or abilities.  He has no idea or understanding about the jobs I have done, my achievements, the responsibilities I have held, or even the reputation and respect that I gained professionally.  He certainly doesn’t know about my art, my creativity or my writing skills.  He really knows nothing about me at all, but in his eyes, I like my siblings could/should have done better.  Never once has he ever taken into account, what we might have wanted for ourselves.

All I know is that I have pushed & pushed myself.  I have always been so hard on myself.  I have punished myself constantly to do better, to feel worthy. And this is the result of it all.  Everything I have ever worked for sits with in this house, this place I used to call my home.

The sad irony is that in spite of everything, it is all being stripped away from me, by the very man my father approved of most.

And that I have to accept.

Sharon Carter-Wray
(12th December 2014)

Update:

In about 3 weeks, I will be celebrating my 4thanniversary of starting over.  I will confess that this part of my life journey has been a solitary one and has not been easy.  I have almost constantly been plagued throughout with pain, depression, low moods and a few other issues sent to test me.

But now when I feel like my mood or physical health is really going to bring me down, I remind myself of what a remarkable and incredibly strong woman I am.

I have come through the other side; I still have a smile on my face… and that is enough for me.  Sx ❤️

(Sunday 24thMarch 2019)

You have everything in you

 

I am the light, I am the darkness

I am the light

That adds the sunshine

To your day

When your skies turn

From azure blue to grey

I am the one who will

Hold you close

So you can feel my love

As I kiss & hug those

Dark clouds away

By your side I will be

When you have fallen

To your knees

I’ll be there without question

When I hear your lonely

Unspoken pleas

All I ask is

You do the same for me

 

I am the darkness

Casting shadows

In your mind

Leaving traces of regret

A constant reminder

Of a loss you can’t forget

No amount of sorrow

No amount of shame

Can bring back the time

You’d wish to reset

What’s been said

Has been said

What is done, is done

And because of that

You’re feeling cold

And all alone

If you had only chosen

Not to bring the night

I would have gladly

Shared my brilliant light

But instead you chose

To abuse its’ glow

And now you’ve lost

This beautiful soul

 

Sharon Carter-Wray

(Friday 22ndMarch 2019)

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