Growing up (long, but real)

So, here I was putting some of my Jamberry samples together and listening to Pandora. A song that I like from a band/singer I have never heard of came on.  The artist is “Plumb”, and the song is  called “Cut”. 

It had me travelling back through my childhood. All the shit that I have been through until now is pretty fucked up. Thinking about it actually started to rev up my anxiety. 

So, I decided to write. Some of this stuff was shared with very few people. Some of it, just Todd. 

I grew up in a very volatile environment like I had said before. Most of the times I thought it was the norm. I was young, trusting, and I didn’t know there was a difference. 

My thoughts are going to jump. As I think of the many instances that stand out, and not about the time and date.

I remember as a young kid, my mom had broken her arm. I never really pieced it together until I had gotten much older. But, my dad had pushed my mom and knocked her down, and she broke her arm. I never asked him about it, he has never confessed. 

Another time, I witnessed my dad flip over a recliner with my mom in it. I remember sitting on the livingroom floor when it happened. 

In general, there was fighting and arguing everyday, several times a day. 

My mom never slept in the bedroom with him. She slept on the couch as far back as I can remember. 

When I was 11 or 12 years old, my older neighbor that I grew up with as a babysitter and I guess friend, dated a guy who later moved in. I used to always go over there, bake cookies with her, play video games and other stuff. So, I never thought twice about going over there when just he was there. One summer, I was hanging out in the bedroom when he said he had something to do. Not thinking anything of it, I stayed. He then proceeded to lock the door and tell me not to tell anybody. He turned on some porn and began masturbating. I was definitely uncomfortable with both what was on the tv and what he was doing. I stared blankly at a newspaper until it was over and excused myself to go home. 

I went back a few more times, curiosity had me. But, after he started to ask me questions and want to include me, I felt it wasn’t right. I eventually told my mother who I made swear she wouldn’t say anything. I quit going over there, and she never told. And, this is the first time I am sharing all this openly. 

As I got older, and welcome the teen years, my family situation became more evident to me. 

If being a teen isn’t already bad enough with trying to find yourself, I had a whole lot of baggage that I carried with me. 

I dated a lot of assholes. I was lost and confused and wanted attention and love. I wanted someone who couldn’t resist me to pine for me and treat me like a queen. 

I never found it. 

The one guy I dated for 4 1/2 years was just as fucked up as I was. I learned how to cut from him. 

A lot of times it worked. For that moment, as tears streamed down my face, the edge of the razorblade numbed every feeling witnin. It is almost like a junkie shooting up. 

The creative being that I am, I would grab a paintbrush and paint with my blood. 

Again, super real here. I don’t hold anything back. 

Later down the line with him, he persuaded me into having a threesome with another girl. I was with a few different girls. Not always sexually. There were two that were more into me than him. There was one that destroyed me. 

He began to see her without me. I didn’t want to share that way. It eventually broke us up. My life began another downward spiral. 

Looking for approval and affection, I moved onto another relationship, that will go down in history for being the worst of all the assholes I dated. 

He was a drug addict. He stole money from me and others, he memorized all my personal info and was attempting to get credit cards in my name. He smacked me down to the ground. He was a lying, thieving cheater and Karma found his ass and did a fabulous job. 

His dad died on my birthday a few years later after battling colon cancer. He was incarcerated for some time for credit card fraud and identity theft. He found his mom slumped over dead in the livingroom a few years later, and last time I heard from him, which was a few years ago, he was battling liver disease and was on the donor list. 

KARMA, she is a real bitch. 

Anyways, after all that, I was just out of control. Drinking and partying and not giving two shits about much of anything. 

I met guys online. One time I passed out drunk and I woke up puking, and bleeding and sore. 

Then I met my ex. At that time in life, I needed somebody to reel me in. I didn’t consciously decide that, I think fate decided for me. 

Because, if I were ever to meet my soulmate, I needed to be alive and well. 

At that point in life, I was already shocked I wasn’t dead yet. Drugs, alcohol, risky behavior. 

I rode that train out until fate lead me to Todd. 

And here we are present day…Always obstacles and tests being put on my path. But, I overcome them every time. I refuse to allow my shitty childhood and bumpy past define me. I may be broken, but I am not unfixable. I may not be perfect, but I am unique. Exactly what I was voted my senior year of highschool. 

I am fine with my tattered edges and rustic style. I have been through a lot. I wear it all as my armor. 

Beauty and the Beast

I have been thinking about writing this for days. I wanted to make sure I had uninterrupted time to devote to what I want to say. 

This post is not about arrogance. It is a post about reality, truth, love and a story. 

We all find in life that when we can relate to something, it gives us a sense of familiarity. 

So, here is where it begins. 

Todd and I have had a rocky time of things since the beginning. 

I feel like we are constantly being tested to see what can finally bring us down. 

We both have our faults, which are often magnified by surrounding obstacles.

One day it clicked for me. We are pretty much a real life “Beauty and the Beast”. 


I am not saying I am as beautiful as Belle. It is more so the symbolism of the story. 

I am the kind, loving and caring part, and he is the tough, guarded and no nonsense part. 

The love that they have developed for one another is unmistakable and true. But, as different as they were, they were very much the same, but showed it and lived it different ways. 

I firmly believe that Todd is my soulmate. He is my best friend, and I can not imagine my life without him. 

Just like Sharon and Ozzy. 

Sometimes I also feel like the movie “Hancock”. When they get too close, even though they love each other, it weakens them. 

Therefore, we are working on us, we are working on ourselves. We are hoping that couples therapy will help us understand eachother better, so we can have our happily ever after. 

He is my world, aside from my girls. There is not one thing that I look at him and say to myself, “wow, I hate that”. There are some things that need work, for both of us, but, I haven’t grown tired of having him around. I look forward to seeing him every day, and I constantly worry that eventually he is going to realize that all this crap is not worth it and he is better off flying solo.

I firmly believe that my previous marriage was a step I needed to take at the time. Not saying I married a man that I despised at the time, just saying that I never truly belonged, and I needed that journey to strengthen me, help me realize who I am, and to finally go after what I really wanted. 

It all began with the gym. Three kids later, two of which were literally back to back, I gave something that scared me a chance.

I spent many years feeling lost. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. Each year becoming more and more miserable. Coasting through life with no direction.

Where did I belong? 

After going for a few years and basically doing it all on my own, I felt a sense of self again. I felt alive. 

Somebody else identified with me. He noticed me and my drive and my desire for something he also truly loved. 

I didn’t expect it to happen. I didn’t plan it. It just happened. It has been a tough road ever since. I didn’t do it for money, or lust. I did it for love and the need to feel complete and alive again.

This is where we were….


And we will be back on top again. 

With everything going on lately, it has been so easy to lose focus. But, a quote that a friend posted the other day, really helped me to put things into perspective. 

“On particularly rough days, I like to remind myself that my track record for getting through bad days so far is 100% and that’s pretty good.”

So, we are going to make it. No matter what bullshit is thrown in our way, we got this. 

We need to focus on us. We need to stop allowing outside sources to infect our lives. 

This picture was taken right when the madness began. That closeness and adoration has not changed one bit.


But, quite often with all the chaos, it is easy to forget where it all began. 

Every challenge is a test of strength and love. We have made it this far. Now it is time for us to test ourselves and become better than we once were. 

I love you Todd. Nothing in this world could ever change that. 

My life

I often wonder how I keep afloat. 

In the past two weeks, I have been bombarded with all sorts of shit. 

A real shitstorm! 

So, it starts with me. Yes, my boobs aren’t real. Not ashamed. I spent 35 years having the chest of a 10 year old.

But, something wasn’t right. Come to find, that I am so muscular, that my pec muscle pushed one of my implants out of place. I can not afford to get it fixed right now. How flippin crazy is that. Only me! 

Then, my brother contacts me, whom I haven’t talked to in over a year, to tell me that my dad was taken to the hospital with stroke symptoms. 

He has been fighting leukemia for nearly two decades and has had many complications along the way. He also has had to have various melanoma removed from his skin. 

In the same breath as telling me about my dad, my brother informs me that my only grandmother I had left died back in November from a stroke, and NOBODY told me. 

Jesus Christ! 

Wait, it gets better. 

My ex husband decided that because of the incident with my fiance, he is now taking me to court for full custody. 

How haven’t I broken down by now? 

My girls are always safe. An isolated incident. A huge wake up call for him as well as I. We are both going to counseling together because we realize the problems are greater than us. 

We are getting help, and he wants to take my girls away from me. He is a monster, and I hope he realizes the hatred he is going to create, not only from me, but from the girls. Especially my oldest. 

Nobody fears my fiance. We all realize here that he has a problem. We all want to give him a chance because we love him. 

I don’t even know how I am going to be able to pay for representation. 

I am a great mom. Not conceited. Just honest. Todd is a great father figure, that I know those girls don’t get over there since he is always at work. 

So, here I sit in a state of numbness. Not knowing what to do and how to feel. Talk about sending your anxiety into overdrive. I think now I can also include some depression. 

How have I not crumbled yet? Seriously! 

It has been awhile…

So, I have been busy handling some shit. 

I have come to find that I am never going to just have peace. No matter what it is, I have to fight for it. Nothing falls into place for me.

On a side note, I didn’t intend to come on here and bore people with my problems today. 

Today I want to share a picture with you. 


I hear a lot about women who are reluctant to lift. They don’t want to be all bulky. Trust me, unless you are pumping substances into your body, you won’t end up looking like She-Hulk. 

My arms are probably my best success. Right now anyways. You can tell I am fit, but until I am flexing, I don’t look like I have guns. 

I can not stress enough how important it is to build muscle as you are working out. Please do more than cardio. Even if it is light weights. 

You will enjoy it too and feel empowered. 

Cops, black, white, purple…

I am not married to a cop anymore. I can tell you it is a great sense of relief on so many levels. 

With all the shit and chaos going on, I feel the need to express my feelings to a larger audience. 

I gotta say, that nobody is born racist or with hate in their hearts. It is learned. 

People often say, that they do not like to be stereotyped. Well, then quit going with the crowd and break the mold. 

Not all cops are racist, much like not all black people are criminals, or all Muslims are terrorists. 

But, if you feed into the stereotypes, be prepared to be labeled.

I lived with a cop for 12 years. 12 years of my life where I was forced to often take on the role of both mom and dad, because he worked the streets to make sure our community was safe. 

It didn’t matter the color of your skin. If you called, he would be there. 

But, time and time again, there was a pattern. The black community had no respect, just because they hold a grudge. Not all of course. But, when there was a gunshot victim, 95% of the time, the color of their skin made them a statistic. 

Why? 

Nobody really knows. 

There is scum everywhere. There is way more injustice and crime and hate that doesn’t make the news. 

He dealt with situations that almost made him want to puke. People molesting or abusing their children. Rapes and assault. 

These faces have no color, because it is not a black/white thing. Some people are just damaged. 

What is unfortunate is that the media helps to spread the hate. They stereotype and point fingers better than anybody else. 

And because we are inidated with their words, we tend to believe it and accuse or judge prematurely. 

Sadly, as a cops wife, you learn to hate everyone, because all walks of life can do bad things. Not just black. Not just Muslim. 

I quit watching the news many years ago. I was sick of the bad things, and sick of the media forcing their judgements down my throat. 

Let’s just live people. Not all cops are bad. Not all black people are criminals. 

The great divide we have created is going to cause a civil war. And for what. 

Thank a cop for what they do. Thank a black man for holding the door on the way out of the local coffee shop. Thank a Muslim for letting you cut in when there is traffic. Thank a mom for picking up the pacifier your kid just tosssed to the ground. Thank a dad for helping you carry your groceries when you are pushing a stroller. Thank an old man for letting you cut ahead of him in line because you only have a few things. Thank an old lady for complimenting you on how darling your kids are. 

There are good people everywhere. You just have to find them and not judge them before they act or speak. 

We all came into this world the same way. Nobody is better than the other. 

Just live people. Just live.

A true love story


Then why is it ending? 

I don’t want it to. 

But, I am not sure it can be mended. 

I am 36 years old and have a broken heart like a teenager. 

I never asked for much. 

All I wanted is to be loved, appreciated and respected. 

All I got what disappointment, sadness and chaos. 

I gave selflessly. I gave all that I had.

My love was not enough to conquer the demons. 

I feel like a part of me has died. 

I’d rather feel a physical pain than the raging sorrow I have within. 

They say time heals all wounds. 

I want time to stop. 

Love, what is it good for?

When you think you have found your soulmate and they turn into a monster…

Or rather progress and become worse…

I gave my everything. Always. 

Now, I am just crushed. I have been putting on my game face. 

Gotta be tough for my girls. But, come tomorrow when they go to be with their dad, I will be alone. 

I want to cry now. 

I feel like shattered glass. 


It was always me, or so I was told. 

There is nothing wrong with me. 

When a person instigates a fight in an amusement park parking lot, and the other person is about to get a handgun from their car, you know for sure that you are not the one with the problem. 

When a person verbally attacks your 3 year old because her lil body is tired which is making her cranky, you know it’s not you. 

When they pull over the car on the highway and get out and your first thought is get into the drivers seat and go and they try to punch your window out, you know it’s not you. 

When your 8 year old hugs you and tells you that she didn’t like the way you were treated, but didn’t want to say anything, you know it’s not you, and you know it is over. 

I just want to be loved and respected and appreciated. 

I just want someone to realize all that I do and how big my heart is and not shit on it. 

I want someone who tells me I am beautiful. Makes me feel special, because I know that I am. 

And the tears begin to fall. 

My dad always told me I was a fuck up, and I guess he is right. 

Wipe your eyes and move on. Sissies don’t survive in life. Become guarded. Put your fortress walls up again. 

You are on your own now. Deal with it.