I Bled on My Favourite Panties.

a-woman

I am a woman.

I had periods and bled on sheets.

But my voice does not matter, my voice was not wanted. My message fit in with those who were told they were not welcome to march with the women of the world, so while the march spoke out for women “everywhere,” I sat at home.

I sit with many women who chose a different path than many of those who marched. That choice, evidently makes us all now, women who do not matter. We do not have a place at the table. Our input into important issues is not permitted. We are the women, who are sent to the outer tents when we bleed. We are not allowed to contaminate the others, except our exile is not for one week of the month . . . ours is permanent.

There can be no doubt that we are women. We had mothers and fathers who loved us, we played with dolls, we did all the girl things with the other girls. We went to university or got a job. We married and some divorced, we had kids and some of us grand babies and even great grand babies. We have careers or stayed home. We met situations that were difficult and yes, some of us were raped, some of us abused. Some of us were/are paid far less than we are worth. Some of us have been horribly discriminated against. Some of us are religious. We are rich and poor, overweight and underweight. We are varying degrees of attractive. Some of us conquer mountains, some of us conquer diapers. We are women no different than those who marched. But they told us we were not the right kind of women, and so we couldn’t join them. While they said they wanted “everyone’s” support – that did not include ours. Had we marched, had we said anything, our voice would have been “booed,” because these women are not about love and inclusion … this is just one big mean girl’s party. Continue reading

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Perspective is a Good Thing When Someone Lets The Radicals Out of the Barn

protect

An Australian group just went too far.

We have been consumed with the fate of the “Bali Nine,” which is the name given to a group of Australians who  attempted to smuggle drugs into Indonesia.  They were caught with 8.3 kg (18 lb) of heroine with a street value of 4 million.

That happened in 2005.  What followed was a merry-go-round of sentencing, all in keeping with Indonesian law, and then tons of appeals, back and forth, and the final outcome where today two of the men are expected to be executed (shot) any day now.

The families of the two young men are devastated and outraged.  Both of the men are indeed sorry for their actions and have, according to many witnesses, transformed their lives and had become assets in the jails where they were housed.

Australians want their lives spared. Continue reading

Promise to My Husband Before He Died

Promises

The ALS ice bucket challenge is all over the internet.  Lots of people are doing it in half measures (no ice – which I suppose is proof of how cold the water actually is)and some are doing it without any real understanding of the purpose behind it.  Such is the power of the internet.  We don’t even have to understand something in order to line up to do it because everyone else is.

I watched one of the video’s of a young man who understands ALS from a different view than most of us.   Then I spent a night tossing and turning.

I was impacted by the pictures of him tending to his mother.  It brought back too many memories of the 3 years my husband suffered before he died.  It also brought back conversations we had where he asked me to make sure that I shared his story so that this did not have to happen to any other families.  That was kind of how he rolled.  He hung on way beyond anyone’s expectations because he was worried about the kids and I.  He took his friends out for coffee or lunch to tell them he was dying because he could not bear that they would “hear it” casually from someone else.  He wanted people to know he knew he was dying and that he would be ok.  He wanted them to know he appreciated them.  He wanted his suffering to create understanding and compassion and maybe even force changes for other Acute Intermittent Porphyria Sufferers.

And then he died. Continue reading

Adult Survivors of Child Abuse. The Cost.

survivors

Great Resource Site with Lots of Information for Survivors and those of you who know someone who has survived.  Healing has a lot to do with the environment the Survivor is in.  Are you aware?  Are you compassionate?  Are you hard on the person, not taking into account how the abuse has impacted their entire life?  There is plenty for all of us to learn, to help these people heal.

ASCA – Adults Surviving Childhood Abuse

News From the Family Wars

Strong children

I love this article on step parenting, the approach to it, the attitude, the understanding of what is important.

http://themidlifedebutante.com/2014/07/lessons-in-parenting/

I have never understood how adults act without any connection to the pain they are causing their children.  I have never understood choosing to live in a living room filled with constant hate and a hyper vigilant need to destroy or undermine the other parent.  Children are forced to live with that and their response is to do whatever is necessary to create peace.  Sadly, most often, that requires them to play the game of hating the other parent and never visiting them because at least then it makes the primary care parent calmer.  These children are not choosing to alienate the other parent.  They are beaten into submission by the hate of the controlling parent. Continue reading

Letter From a Mother of a Courageous Daughter

courage

Dear Doctors and Dentists;

I appreciate that you are busy people with a busy schedule and you have devised a way of doing things that works for you and you may even feel is wise and prudent.

Human beings are not blocks of wood.

You can’t just apply one technique across everyone. Continue reading

How Much Love Can One Child Handle.

a child needs love

I would be ashamed to have any child I was raising to be heard talking to someone about their non custodial parent and telling them that they hate their “mommy” or “daddy.”   I don’t understand why some parents then stand there beaming at the child like they have just earned an “A” on some test.   My heart would break if my child were to tell other people that their “mommy” or  “daddy” doesn’t love them.  I would NEVER put my child in that kind of position or EVER let them believe that, no matter what the circumstances. Continue reading