Still searching

July 5, 2020.  8:07 pm

What’s wrong with me?

Why am I still single?

So my answers are that I am too fat, middle-aged and that is why I am single. I know, negative self-talk is not allowed, but I cannot find anyone to date me, let alone like me enough to date me. I’m not sure what’s wrong, but feeling like this puts me in low self-esteem mode. Dejection pushes me towards self-sabotage, which then leads me to self-hatred. I eventually pull myself out of it as suicide is not an answer. I just wish I knew why I’m so unable to find a suitable partner for myself. I’ve tried paid and non-paid dating sites, and the prospects are all the same. So I go back to square one with those boring dating sites only to find the same results.

I am criticized for wanting that – my friends and my children say that I don’t need anyone. That I’m doing fine just the way I am. But obviously they do not suffer from abandonment issues like myself. That’s a different monster in itself because you worry about every relationship you have, platonic, girlfriends, boyfriends, lovers, any type as long as you are making connections, there is fret. I used to put myself out there with honesty, transparency, and it’s too much – tailor it back, they tell me. I don’t even know what that happy medium is anymore. I’m just too much.

It seems that I’m too much.

My life up to this point has been good as long as I don’t focus on the negative aspects – and there are plenty. As my daughter pointed out the other day, I have been to hell and back many times. I guess what one determines as hell. might actually be considered uncomfortable and not hellish. All I know is that it seems like it never ends, almost as thought I invite it.

So when I discuss with my children that we are responsible for our actions as it has consequences, maybe I don’t think enough on it. Maybe I don’t care. I’m not saying that people deserve to be hurt, but sometimes, at least in my case, I might say something knowingly that it will cause trouble or angst, and I say it anyways. Rather than get mad for its consequences, I take responsibility and say, I knew that was going to happen and I deserve it.

My life has not been easy, yet I’m supposed to be thankful for it. I haven’t found the answer as to why I should. I guess I haven’t found my purpose for all the troubles. I’m not sure what to do with it. I wish I knew so that I can put this insanity out of my mind and move forward towards a more peaceful life.

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Fly Little One

June 20, 2020  3:43 pm

I became a mother by accident. Without plan, without intention, I became a mother of one.

Shame propelled me into an abortion clinic and courage had me walking out of it. Fear stopped me in my tracks, and stoicism pushed me forward.

Nine months.

My folly grows inside of me.

The truth is, I knew I wouldn’t be a good mother. I knew. I hadn’t any idea how to parent, but somehow I thought that having a child would give me a sixth sense of right and wrong in terms of what I needed to do as a parent. While some of that did surface in between the years, so did my ugly disposition, ten-folds.

Dream child in my head is a nightmare born in a borrowed bed.

One needed a sibling, so came a daughter. Two needed a sibling, so came another daughter. My children became my life. And now, they have their own lives.

Truth be told, after walking out of that abortion clinic, I told myself that I’d be fine – that we’d be fine. We would always have each other no matter what road I was on. I knew that road would be the one less taken and the most desolate. But I believed in “us.” Me and my child. I’m not sure what I envisioned, but I had my first child because I needed someone to always love me. I remember thinking that if I had a child, that child would never leave me. I truly thought I would have someone who would care about me, would love me. I’ve known my whole life how hard it was to love me; I knew that. So having my first child was about security, about securing love.

I eat for two, walk for two, breathe for two now.

The nine months that followed after my child was born were the most happiest moments I can remember. We did everything together. We shopped; I ran with him in the stroller, and completed 5, 10K walks and runs. We sat on the beach together and played. Then one day, in McDonald’s, my child looked at the man standing behind me and called him “Dada.” I knew then that raising my child alone was not an option. All children need both parents – role models from both genders. My child needed a father. Then it dawned on me.

Growing up without a family was hard since my father was an alcoholic. My mother was absent. I didn’t want my child to grow up with me – what if I weren’t fit. He needed something more from this world than me – so when I met him, he loved my child, so I married him. I’ve always said that I married him for the right reason. In fact, I didn’t want any of my children to grow up like I did – alone. I just didn’t realize that as they got older that I would feel abandoned by them too.

When the boy was a boy, the girl was a girl, they found each other in a wicked world.

I can’t resent them for what I taught them to be; I can’t resent them because they want time with their father; I can’t resent them for living just the way I wanted them to live: with family, surrounded by love. I can’t resent them, but I do resent me for feeling so selfish.

And in this wicked world, we must be independent, fight and grow to be who we are. That is who my children are…their own.
And I can’t resent that.


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Bit by Bit

May 17, 2020 4:38 pm

Screen Shot 2020-05-17 at 4.40.37 PM

I came across this quote on Word Porn and immediately, I identified with it.
My history are bits and pieces of places I’ve lived: various places in Asia, coastal cities and midtown USA and even Europe…just about all over the place. I had a father and mother, but in all actuality they weren’t much. I learned the roles by watching friends’ parents and then I learned to mimmick their behavior later; otherwise my father was a drunk and my mother was absent. I needed role models and as a child, I knew that. Survival Instinct?

I wonder now if my friends knew that I struggled with my life; I wonder if they knew the kind of life I had. All I did was make up lies to make it seem I were like them – but I was nothing of the sort. My father was frugal, and didn’t like working though he had already retired from one job. He spent money on his alcohol and things that were important to him. My mother came and went as she pleased. All I remember of her are cold, cutting words, and her pulling my ear, my arm, my hair…no love taps there. I failed to understand what I was doing wrong to warrant those pulls. And I remember the lies she told me to tell…lie about who I was.

A very cruel and deceitful man once said, “Lie once and it remains a lie, but lie the same lie repeatedly and it becomes truth.” That’s how you win people over in politics. But to an an innocent child, it blurs reality. My reality were in those lies.

Now as a seasoned adult, I’ve come to terms with what’s happened Then, and Now, I am at peace, but try explaining that to your past. It sounds so pathetic. I hear the “awwwww” and hear the silenced “poor girl” in my head. I get the pitiful hug from the friends who know my truth, but they were never part of the past, so I could easily come clean. There were no lies to begin with. But the community I grew up with is a different story. So I have stayed away from “home.” Keeping in touch with only a handful of people.

Telling them bits of what I now know as truth, but with it being so long ago, their memory is fuzzy. It doesn’t matter to them like it does me.

So fragmented inside. I have mended and re-mended parts of me with good memories, good lyrics, and writing. I find words in books and songs to close the gap of my brokenness, and the quietude of my thoughts and nature assure me that I’ll be better.

I’ve learned to appreciate the bad and realize that I can make things good, and so with that, I keep moving forward. Little bit at a time.

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May 14, 2020 9:17 pm

The world seems so cold,
when I face so much all alone.

There’s this thought, this thought that screams loudly in my head – in a place I call the abyss. It’s easy to hear it, to listen to it since most of my thoughts have been silenced. Especially now during this pandemic. I know that the pandemic is causing the screams as I sit inside my home; as I stare outside the window; as I walk along the street. And here’s the thing, though I am physically alone, I know I am not, and neither is the rest of the world. They’re not alone. We are an army that will battle this, but when my world turns dark and the windows go black, and the streets are quiet, in my own world separate from the rest of them, I am an army of one, trying to battle nightmares that began a long time ago, in a another world, at a different time.

I will be strong on my own
I will see through the rain I will find my way
I will keep on traveling this road
’till I finally reach my dream till I’m living and I’m breathing my destiny

I can move forward physically, one step at a time. But when I think about where I am headed, I shake my head. I just don’t know. I’ve been moving forward in a dense fog of apprehension and intimidation. The idea that I may be unsuccessful or the idea I may be unrealistic. These ideas scared me, so most of the time, I actually did nothing while I thought I was doing something.


Not sure if I could ever be ok. I’d like to think that I’ll be ok, but I really think that I have been fooling myself. Fake it til you make it right? They say if you do this, eventually what you fake will manifest to being real. Is that true? Well, I certainly believed it as I always faked my smile, my well-being, my answers. I masked all of how I truly felt into a frown turned upside down.

So, I want to know – will I actually be ok? I feel like I have been.

I gotta believe there’s something out there meant for me.

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Misfitting In

May 12, 2020 8:13 am
Lidia Yuknavitch says that being a misfit is a person who sort of missed fitting in.

Ever since I was a child, I tried – well my mother wanted me to fit in, so I tried. Dance lessons, art, language, singing, pretending all of those things – I never got it quite right. When I tell my friends about my Japanese mother forcing me to take Latin dance lessons, the room fills with laughter. The image itself is dauntingly hilarious if you can imagine a young Asian girl, chasing down public transportation trying to get to downtown Tokyo to take Mamba lessons. What is the irony in that? Why? In my head, I’ve always asked why? What was the purpose of that? My mother was the vehicle. Her words, her actions, her animosity towards me took me to those dark places. Now I understand the reason why. She’s the reason why I never felt comfortable.

[W]e don’t always know how to hope or say yes or choose the big thing
At least now, I know why.

So throughout my childhood, I loathed in low self-esteem, never fully believing that I was worthy of anything big, anything good. But I tried, tried fitting in with those “good” group of kids at school, the popular beautiful ones because if I did, I too would be one of them, right?

In the beginning of my formidable highschool years, like most kids, I wanted to be one of the “cool” ones. But my idea of cool fluctuated one year to the next. I dumped my good friend at the beginning of ninth grade because she smoked Salem Menthols and that was not cool. I tried out for the cheerleading team year after year because that was cool and that’s where all of the popular, fun girls were. I ensconced myself in the idea that if I were beautiful and worthy and fun, I would be a part of that team. Seriously? I really thought that those ten girls were the epitome of what life in highschool was all about? Yet I tried, for many years. Being at cheerleading tryouts made me hopeful that one day I would be “one” of them. I would be accepted; I would be beautiful and popular.

I never made the team.

What I eventually found was the “surfside” group. We went to the beach in our bathing suits, and watched boys surf. They were a bunch of kids who hung out at the beach, smoking weed, drinking, surfing, cutting class and being delinquent (as we would call it now) during the day and by night, we hung out in some dark, secluded field with a bonfire and a few six-packs, or a fifth. I picked up smoking for awhile then. Unbeknownst to me, or rather I ignored it, but the popular bunch in highschool called this new group of kids “low lifes” – meaning they would never amount to much in life because of this behavior. I didn’t care because they made me feel popular, always commenting on how great I looked in my bikini and how I looked “so thin.” I basked in their comments, so I smoked, drank, and even popped a few pills for the sake of fitting in. Highschool. SMH now.

The radiance falls on all of us, and we are nothing without each other.

What I did learn from highschool is that. It takes a collective group to build someone up. I’ve struggled for many years to try to do it alone and you can’t really do that in the beginning. You have to have a group to help you at first. Then you bond, and build relationships that carry you through some of the toughest storms. Here’s the other thing I learned, it doesn’t have to be the popular group, or the cool group, or the most fun group – it just has to be a group where they build you up and not tear you down.

it’s the shame of not really believing we deserve

Sometimes there’s a voice that whispers to you..negative thoughts. Don’t believe them. Sometimes, you have to fight through them. But you also have to recognize when a battle can’t be won.

That was me making the cheerleading team in highschool.

But I finally made the cheerleading team….in college.

Sometimes it was just about timing. There’s a time for everything right in your life.

[Y]ou have the ability to reinvent yourself endlessly. That’s your beauty.

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Resting My Bones

May 4, 2020 . 8:07 pm

I must’ve heard this song a million times and today was the first time I actually listened to it.

I think of you whenever life gets me down

There! That was it. His jealousy boiled over when he read my journals and found that I thought of HIM despite all of these years of marriage. I tried to explain to him that our lives were so bad that I needed to find something good to hold onto. I told him countlessly how his disrespect for me was unfounded as I know I’ve had others who never mistreated me – HIM. And now, here’s this song that resonates those feelings all those years ago. I understand now why I retreated back to those memories.

I think of you whenever you’re not around

As my life unfolded, life was just bad…loveless….that’s bad isn’t it? I craved it as most humans do. It’s a human condition that I need for survival. Some do drugs; some drink; some shop; some gamble, like I did; all for love. None of those addictions can replace love and I’ve always known that. That explains the drinking and then the gambling – and now I just know. No addictions to mask it – no relationships to rescue me from the loneliness.

I think of you whenever life gets me down

That FB message I sent the day after Easter was the reason for it. He said that it wasn’t “weird” even though I knew it was. I wonder if he too thinks of me – can’t imagine that his life is ever bad. But we all only show what we want the lens to portray…but I don’t believe that. He was so perfect for me, and I never found anyone to replace that. He inspires me to be goofy, to make people smile.

It’s in his memory that I rest my bones. The place where I feel like I’m “home.” I can breathe and smile, and I know that I was happy. I need that. I want that. I’m tired of feeling so broken and unwanted. Though I know there’s a reason for all this desolation, I just don’t know what that can be.
My children mistake this desire for a relationship as me trying to find happiness, and they’re mistaken. Everyone who has claimed that was my purpose is wrong. My life is just not complete without someone to share it with like some women feel without a child. We don’t tell them that children don’t define them, but we say…what? I don’t know. I just know I wouldn’t say the latter. We want what we want, right?

I thought I had it figured out in a brand new life….With a great big house

We fooled everyone with that.

It’s been well over thirty-years, and the narrative I breathe when I say his name is far from “our” truth. It’s the truth I speak when I interpret all of the in-betweens. I’m not mistaken; he feels it too. We felt it in each other that day dancing.

[he] still pull[s] me home

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Highways are Byeways

April 16, 2020   5:45 pm

It’s funny how songs take you back to a place in time, once fond, now turbulent.

You’re gonna go I know

Didn’t have a clue that my relationship would end so abruptly. Could I feel the buildup of emotional magma slowly filling the channel into word vomit? Yeah, I believe so.  I just didn’t realize that it would bother me so much. At first, I didn’t really care, or maybe that isn’t correct; I just didn’t take notice. I was busy grieving for her mother; I was busy trying to wrap my head around the person she’d become. She was blinded by control and authority over the superficiality of what her life had become and both her mother and I tried making sense of it over the years.

What she deemed as betrayal was me trying to bring comfort to her saddened mother. I didn’t know how NOT to be.

She never even gave me the chance to explain. I thought I had let that go.

Wishin’ on a falling star
Watchin’ for the early train

She has been a part of my life for so long, and our children too. It makes me sad that the highway she and I took were not synchronous. Our relationship broken in pieces and salvaging any of it requires too much effort. Effort I no longer care to make.

A year later, another friendship falls to the way side.



Unrequited in reasons that I want badly to know but know I will never get. Different person, difference in thought. How to reconcile what I feel and think I know to what surfaces elsewhere. Beating my head against a brick wall might do me more good than asking for reasoning that is incapable of manifesting. Another highway, another road not wanting to take.

So down this Ventura Highway I go, alone, with the wind blowing through my hair watching alligator lizards in the air.


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My True Mirror

April 16, 2020 11:46 am

Who do you think you are? She asks.

How many times in our lives have we asked that of someone or asked ourselves that? Sure rhetorically meaning. Whether we think it in our heads or out loud; the question has a certain echo.

This video came at such an apropos moment today- as it as been causing me to lose sleep. But that is nothing new really; I climb inside my own head comfortably and nap for days, weeks..not really months because I gain the logical sense to climb out of it by then. But during those weeks, it wreaks havoc with my diet, my sleep, my well-being shackled up with my questioning of who I am.
My most recent episode, usually occurs after heavy drinking the night before, had me roaming the newsfeed of an ex. An old ex – I mean highschool-first-love-kinda-ex. Then insanity gripped me and I sent him a message. I have an inkling of the gist of my message, but still too ashamed to read it in its entirety. I knew then, me and drinking are not a good combination. But I dwelled on my behavior; I dwelled on the fact that I couldn’t let him go; in fact, I couldn’t let go of any relationship that let go of me first. Hence the issues I have: abandonment. Then it snowballed into a sleepless night fret with angst. He was not the only one I messaged that night.

She says that we are awesome twice in our lives: during our summer and winter years.

I couldn’t think of any awesomeness then and even now as I am entering my winter years. My childhood from the beginning was horrific; filled with verbal, physical and emotional abuse, and now realizing that there’s a possibility of sexual abuse. As I reached my young adulthood entering into marriage, the awesomeness were my children, not me, but in having my children and seeing their awesomeness. And then I realize that I may not ever had a time of true authenticity of who I am, let alone any awesomeness.

I’ve accomplished alot to be proud of in my life – but the question is “did I do that for me?” None of the awesomeness I accomplished were not for myself. There was always a face lurking behind every decision I made, right or wrong.

The most debilitating thing is to look for the approval of anything from others.
that’s as impervious to all the good shit and bad shit that happens to you

There lies the answer. Approval.

mirror fragments on gray surface with the reflection of a person s arm

Photo by Thiago Matos on

I did it for approval.

I don’t regret what I’ve accomplished, but I did it not for me, but for everyone else as if I were saying look at me, look at me everyone! As I trace that behavior back to my mother, I realize that I have never lived a life of my own. After my mother moved on, came my father and the need for his approval. The acting, the military, the shame that lead me to marriage, my taking care of him – all of those actions I’ve taken were for him, not me. And now to be faced with that reality. I knew I needed change.

potential change – crazy new shit vs the same old shit

Which was it going to be? They say to not ever forget where you come from, but for me, I needed to forget so that I could go on to find me – the real me; not the adopted-me, not the mother-me, not ex-wife me, nor the victim-me, but me without all of those in front of ME.

It’s important to remember that [Y]ou’ll never be perception-less, but it’s important to be perception-free and even more important to be confident in finding your authentic self unbound by any preceptions. But that’s what I’ve done going into any endeavor…preceptions of who I am “supposed” to be based on what my father or mother thought I should do or be; or what my current social group deemed for me to be…dance team, cheerleader, frat-girl, club girl etc…do I smoke? not smoke? cigarettes, weed, coke? Do I sleep with everyone? or noone?

Move into your “wish image.” not being fake – it’s about potential and possibilities, supposition – this forces you to move into your construct self

I’ve always visualized what I wanted to be like or look like, but what failed me was my inner strength. I didn’t believe I had any without the approval or the influence of someone.
And now as a middle-aged me, I look in this true mirror and realize that I need to find me. So this new endeavor on the cusp of my middle-aged life, I leap and know that where I land is where I am supposed to be because that is where I want to be. I know in making the leap, I will land on some good pile of awesomeness!

If you could be the woman in your dreams, who would you be?
You don’t look at yourself, you look for yourself says
Caroline McHugh.

I say me; I want to be me.

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The Same Same, Not Different

March 21, 2020 10:57 am

As most of you might be, so am I, contemplating the pandemonium happening in our cities, some moreso than others. States like NY, CA and now IL – locked down!

I’m not a preacher, but I do remember a passage in the bible, and now I see that everyone is posting it.

It says somewhere in there about the epidemic God will send along with locusts and such, but if we pray to him, he will help us. If anything good comes from this, it’s the reassessment that each of us make to live a better life. I’m certain that we will learn what is important…the air we breathe, the relationships we value, the words we speak to one another – each word more meaningful than the one before. We will think about how we treat one another, and appreciate.

Here’s to the ones that we got
Cheers to the wish you were here, but you’re not

Deaths…old, young, people we know; people we don’t know…sad.

‘Cause the drinks bring back all the memories
of everything we’ve been through

As I course through another bottle of white, I hear the regrets swimming in my head about making amends, about forgiving, about…. oh what the hell, who gives a fuck! Not any of this will matter three weeks after we revive ourselves from the lockdown of 2020. Human nature dictates that we plead to be better humans but then we negate all that as soon as we see that we are living the normal life as before. We revert to being the same narcissistic and selfish self.

Maybe not.

As I contemplate those earlier relationships, I suddenly realize that they were meaningless and the word exchanges were just spittle; lies that formed and dripped from the corner of their mouths. Silly me for entrusting those silly boys with my emotions.

Everybody hurts sometimes
Everybody hurts someday

My life is not any different than it was before, emotionally. Physically, yes. Things are a changing. Emotionally, stays the same.

Toast to the ones here today
Toast to the ones that we lost on the way
‘Cause the drinks bring back all the memories
Finished: April 7, 2020 2:02 pm

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On the Other Side of Goodbye

Feb 7, 2020 10:16 am

Walking away towards the other side of goodbye, at least that’s what I tell myself. I try hard not to think of the hurtful words spewing from the corners of your mouth and into the ears of those who listen out of boredom.
I spew. About you – alot!
I still hate you and does that mean I’m not over you? Hell NO!

It’s a bit scary to think there’s so much hatred in me left from the residues of you, but there is and it has affected my relationships with others,
I believe that now. I see that now. But I am walking away from that too.

In caring for myself, I know I need to devote 100% of my time to me and for me, doing what makes me feel better about who I am now and not who I long to be. I’m learning that I need to focus on not only what is healthy in mindful thinking, but what is healthy in my appearance trying hard not to visualize what used to be or has to be. Somehow, I need to believe in myself, so saying goodbye to all that is wrong for me is inherent.

That means no more unnecessary games, words, actions, pitiful motions; that means no more wasted time promoting or even advocating for someone who hasn’t given me anything to cheer for; that means I must choose valuable actions and meaningful words that result in goodness.

I have to walk towards the other side of Goodbye.
Sooner rather than later – life isn’t stopping for me at any rate.

I have to believe that I am better on the other side.

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