Mid Intermission unraveling..

On repeat the lyrics to free mind run through mine, I can’t even seem to touch the idea of the story I was telling and that is also mine.

I can’t shake the feeling that everything I’m doing now has changed me to a person I barely even know.  Its depressing but I cant stop the growth I’m saying goodbye to who I used to be.

All my messy thinking coming out without any breaks , until I realize I’m living in fear.  I have jumbled thoughts from a jumbled mind fuck I’m re -learning how to breath. Its just that healings easier when trauma stops but that all seems to be without any sign of date when it will cease.

My mind feels well one day and a mess the next and I feel like all the progress is for the outer world because my inner world is a god damn mess. Sometimes I want to tell someone how I feel but, my feelings always seem to cause me later regret.

So I go inward for healing for the solace to continue telling my story but some other aspect of my past keeps coming back to bite me. A man who can’t let go of false feelings here a women who imagines conflict with me there its always the same lessons.

I practice self love in every way but I have yet to learn to forgive myself.  I have in the past given myself to men in ways I wouldn’t,  I have made myself less than I am. Today I find the spiritual strength to admit that my past mistakes dont make me  who I am .

I find the love the little girl in children’s aid needed,  I find the strength she no longer has to pretend to be it, I pick her up in my healing arms and raise her up because without her there’s no me and we are part of a future that requires both of us to play our part.


T is for Tencity: Intermission

I’ve wanted to be loved appreciated and understood for as long as I can remember. I can stand on a lie built to protect a family member I love from their own healing or I can speak my truth and heal from pain that was not of my causing. I will always tell the truth, it always sets us free.

I’ve never felt like anyone could love, care for or understand me and when I think they might I tend to push them away.
I’m afraid of getting hurt so I keep my feelings to myself but in the end ,I end up settling and spending time with people who maybe dont see my worth.

The reality is if I think someone really see’s me is scares the heck out of me. I feel weird, awkward and unlovable and thats just the tip of the issue’s.

I’ve been healing for along time and felt more than ready to begin this journey of further healing discovery (and I know I am ),but the discovery has taken me deeper than I had ever thought and that can become painful when your story is like mine.

I will not skip ahead but I’m sure from the past two chapter’s you were able to glean abandonment issues on the horizon. Having two parents who found coping-mechanism such they did is not a point of pride for me and it was exactly the sort of thing that lead me to the sort of behavior that I have been trying to heal from for as long as I can remember.

I have come far but currently find myself preparing to take the next big leap of faith in feelings and healing. Forgiving both parents is easy enough, forgiving abusive past relationships has already been done, but now through writing the rest of this story the aime is to forgive myself, this process is a little more complicated and has taken the telling of my life to truly understand how many layers of trauma need to be attended to before this process can even be considered to be under way.

My story will be back in action, I am still on my journey living the chapters that will come ,creating the embodiment of healing that can serve as an influence to others going through strife and trauma to obtain healing to push forward with loving themselves enough to come up out of the dark places, I am still hear lending back a helping hand to those who may fall behind ,sometimes, because I too sometimes require a helping hand.

We are all human and we are all love originally, the objective with my writing is to remind us that even through the pain we can find beauty.

Until Chapter 3 …

Reflecting on a life lead hard requires a certain kind of gentle touch that only you can give.

T Is For Tenacity

Chapter Two: The Mean old lady in the pretty house.

The day we left our sitters for care is not entirely clear, I won’t sit here and pretend I remember every last detail of my childhood but I certainly do remember enough of the feeling to know that this was one of the harder days in my life and it was one that re-wired how I thought and felt in every possible way.

The one thing that was exceptional however was that both my little sister and I were permitted to stay in the same foster home , something I would later discover is not often the case or at least not always, in this sense I felt lucky for the longest time because we were able to protect each other throughout our stay but the reality is I was a stressed out little girl protecting a 3 year old child from an abusive tyrant of a women who cared nothing for our well being.

This women locked my little sister in a closet for hours for which time I spent sitting outside said closet making a game out of it, would talk to us both with complete and utter hatred and on one very special snow day I got to spend some time outside in a blizzard with no shirt for having forgot to wear an undershirt. These things and some others went unreported and documented because how a young version of self viewed this situation was that what I had to say would only make things worse and if I was just a good girl and did what I was told we would get through this and my mom and dad would want us back, little me thought the situation was my fault and again things would happen in the coming years that would solidify this perception in ways that are still being reversed today.

The one thing that I do remember from this time was that the space we lived in was beautiful, it was an old country house out in the middle of nowhere and when we did keep this women content we were mostly free to roam around the land unsupervised, this came to be a steady dynamic for my sister and I , the two of us against the world and would be something I would become dependent on for much of my life.

Our time in care was split in two because we did get placed with family members mid way through our time in care before my mother reported one of them for growing marijuana which was not legal in the 1980’s and 90’s in Canada , I spent that Christmas in a group home with my little sister. No family came to see me not even my mother, who had filed the report preventing myself and my sister from spending that holiday with family.

This action I would later understand was not committed my a mentally well women and the hurt and addiction my mother sustained through life is something that I wish to clarify was not caused because she is a bad person but rather because she is an incredibly hurt person who has never felt heard or understood. As a child I did not understand this instead I understood that everything I came to appreciate and love would be taken away from me and not to get comfortable in the presence of love because it may not be there for long, this idea would be reaffirmed later and again and is still something that occasionally has to be worked on.

Trauma was repeatedly introduced into my thinking pattern as a young girl but I somehow remained oblivious to this very fact all the while events occurred that drastically and diversely would alter how I perceived the person that I truly was.

Moving around and being removed from loved one’s for a two year period changed how I felt about myself and my position as a big sister, a little girl who was previously free to explore who she was was now limited to the possibility’s of her self belief and this self belief was quickly diminishing. The only thing I was sure of at that point was that I had my little sister and she had me.

Our last night in care was spent eating pizza and watching the Simpson’s I was six years old and had been away from my mother for a very long time. This night would represent a night of hope and manipulation in my life, my foster mother gave myself and my sister a good night to remember her by before we would go back to our newly clean and pregnant mother and soon to be step father, this night would be how I would choose to remember my time in care for a very long time in fear of saying anything to upset my loved one’s for fear of being sent back to the mean old women in the beautiful home.

T is for Tenacity

A continual Story of how tenacity can triumph over Adversity.


My sad story starts like so many others, my sad story makes me want to cry.

I never want to live in the sadness because the sadness creates death, I make jokes when I am unhappy, I laugh when I want to cry but the truth is I am really this soft and when I am alone, I really do cry. I live in a weird kind of balance. I learn too quick with one thing and far too slow with the next. I am human, I am real flesh and bones, but I am also so much more. Its hard to tell a story without telling its sad parts and although I don’t wish to make you sad, I think its important that certain stories be told, I will look bad in a lot of this and so will others but for me it’s been a long time coming and I myself have learned the hard way that the truth does set us free. I will try to tell this story with as much tact and decorum as I possibly can but allow me to warn you that some parts of this story may be hard for some to digest, that’s life it is not all easy but its all real and truth. That’s me T is for Truth.

As a young girl I remember feeling like I was gold, I don’t know how else to explain it, I had golden hair in the summer and my mother used to describe me as good as gold. I translated that to mean I was in fact gold. (This can largely explain a whole period in which I hated gold and thought it to be ugly tacky and overrated but now I get ahead of myself). I used to understand I was alone; I mean not in the sad I’m lonely way but that I came into the world by myself, I also happened to have the understanding that I was very much not alone that all this busy world around me was outside of me and somehow also a part of me. I remember having an understanding that I was new to this plane of existence and that I had a lot to learn. Magic was a very real thing before I was five, because once I was five the whole world was going to change again in some big and hard ways but before that time I lived in magic, I was magic, and this was all acceptable the golden magic child was at her finest and truest self.

It’s weird to think back to a time when the purest form of self was still free to express herself sure lots went on that was terrifying enough but the reality is I had my roots or was at least beginning to develop them. I remember feeling supported by my surrounding unit of people, my mother and father got in mix up for sure as a direct response to addiction and self esteem issues that both had endured early on in their lives but they protected me, they loved me and they valued who I truly was and when they failed at these things I had a whole bunch of family members that would jump in to remind me that I was in fact the golden child.

Even at age of around three when my little sister entered the picture we were described as night and day. I always perceived this to mean that I was the sun that I was what was shinning golden upon our days, I never understood at that time that we were in fact one whole day and that these descriptive terms that I became so attached to would become some of the unhealthiest comforts I would come to establish in my early life. We had each other that was for sure, but I was unwittingly merging with this other little girl (with two empaths going through real life trauma this is not so difficult to achieve). Children endure trauma and siblings can become a support network this is a very common behavior so no one at this time would have thought anything about what was about to happen and what would continue to happen for many years to come. I fell head over heals in love with my sister and she for me and still we would continue a cycle of protection and trauma with each other because we were taught love by hurt/angry adults and as quickly as this particular comfort developed it would be taken away, my first memorable trauma (although I had seen a lot being raised by two drug addicted parents) would be loss, I would experience the loss of my of my parents, of my family of my security , of literally everything but my little sister at the age of five and no amount of violence and chaos that I had previously witnessed or endured would compare to this first major trauma, fear and doubt in everything were the end result in this situation and would pull back the reins on my ability to truly believe in myself. The fear of upsetting my family became so prevalent after my time in foster care that I would have nightmares as an older child of my mom becoming upset with me and revoking my daughter status and sending me back into the system to get lost. Without intention my trust in my family, in my roots and in myself was lost and to be honest this wouldn’t truly reappear in any real light until much later in life.

The golden Child would live on in my mothers eyes for a few years even after all this but to me she died the day I was removed from my baby sitters house in the late 1980’s , on that particular day The golden child became a protector of her little sister and an unwanted child of the system, damaged good’s unworthy of love, on that particular day self confidence and love would fly out the window and be replaced by a constant rain cloud of worry that no one could ever love her or want her. This very thought would be reaffirmed repeatedly in the next coming years but that is for a later chapter , for this Chapter we lay to rest the beloved golden child, the intelligent little girl, full of enquiry for life and love deep within, a protector in her own right but still a work in progress. For Chapter One ends the little girl who could and would change the world, her successor will tell a very different story, but that’s a story for chapter two….

Back into my Dark Night

Who I am and who I am intended to be scares the shit out of me. A sacred calling , calling out to me , seemingly clear one moment and lost the next , how can I explain something even I don’t understand?

Have you ever woke up and felt more lost? So lost that you felt you could never be found?, but then a part of you always loved to wander so getting lost seemed only natural.

One thing I have definitely figured out is that I am far from normal and the game plan has always resembled the same but what I’m dead tired of is this entire world filled up in pain. . …

Getting lost again , like I said , I play hide and seek, my souls journey certainly is not linear and it wasn’t designed for the meek, moving forward through layers of fear I shed all of my light, I’ve gained too much wisdom and found a peaceful way to fight.

So far from the person I once used to be , but something is missing from inside of me, my mind, body and soul keeps aging as I begin to grow old but something inside still feels young, naive , if I can still get lost inside my day, how can I hold a purpose so big and still find my way.

Or will I even manage to set out to do what I intend to do, my strength while impressive may not be enough.

These doubts upon acceptance that I put my faith in Creator’s touch but the feeling is fragile when the intention is blind trust.

I guess this last hit could go without saying, the next stage is more Ego shed so I guess,…Bring on the Pain!


I fully embrace the path less traveled as my authentic life path


I understand how you feel mom

because I feel the same way too

my son , he’s like me

just like I’m like you

the demons we face

we always must slay

because when we let them go

they will always come back to play

The demons we have

they all come from within

sometimes your past haunted me too

sometimes I could feel your sin

my son being like me its frightening to see

until I remember

I’m who I came here to be

Mom through the hard times

it’s just that I was afraid

until I remembered

that fear came from you,

you gave me many things

it didn’t end with your sin

you gave me your strength

your beauty, you set me up

for the win, trust me

I know I found my way

through fear anger and strife

but it’s my life’s work to heal

cut through like pain like a knife

Ive grown with the gifts and

and curses you gave but remember

my mother you are love

and loved you shall stay

Soul Journey

Going through alot but it feels like nothing is going on.

I will get caught up in a moment or even the lyrics to a song.  I spend days and nights without vision and then suddenly I can see and to be completely honest I have no idea why this is happening to me.

Walk straight through the storm 

Spaces of time that dont seem to make sense,  everything will fall apart there is nothing left for me to truly depend. What is even more strange is I’ve never felt so free, I’ve never felt so alive,  I’ve never felt more like me.

Doing something’s I’ve never done before it’s been a wild ride , a way of living lost ,sitting in between before full evolution is derived.  Open to the world this time , placing soul before ego.

Fear used to be my guidance I would freeze but never run away , now I move straight through the storm. Fear transformed to a motivator I’ve ignited what I never used to let burn.

Spirt guides me through my dark night giving me a glimpse of what is to come ,but in truth this evolution is confusing it’s hard for me to make sense of everything I must trust and learn.

Flew across a country to heal something I wasn’t even sure I could do but my soul directed me to my location and I had some truly hard lessons to learn.

I faced a sister that was broken, who loved this idea of being in love, my poor baby sister being so broken her anger direction turned from within to anyone who was around to receive.

A million burdens ensue when you allow broken people around you so my whole life already very unstable has continued to falter and sway, it’s my inner strength and guidance that has been guiding me.

I can’t even explain this knowing this whole experience is very strange the best I can truly do is to be greatful for every day .

Soul journeys definitely take a toll but if you pay attention well enough you really get to appreciate that this whole experience on this planet is truly an experience of the soul.



I hold gratitude
I’ve been through alot of hardship,  of which many of you know but that’s not what lights me up its just what has taught me.

As I go through the memories of the past 37 years I find a certain bit of peace.  I may not even be close to who I thought I would be and I certainly have not taken the walk I feel my family would have preferred for me, but I’m here and I’m me and Im as real as they come.

I spent the past 37 years falling in and out of love with myself,  placing the ideals of my loved ones above all else and it failed me every single time. I’ve loved the wrong men at the right time far harder than they deserved but they needed me and I needed them for the lessons we all learned.

To those same men I will apologize because my unhealed version was toxic and abusive too but we all knew it was unhealthy and we all survived the only way we all knew. I hope you both realize your worth and have moved into a healing place but I hold gratitude for our experiences even the one’s I used to want to erase.

Two abusive relationships before I realized I too must be contributing to the abuse but in the end it was both these men who brought me closer to something I had always knew.

Looking past these men , past a childhood filled with fear and trauma and right into friendship , I hold some true gratitude in these places.  I have met some beautiful and broken souls along my journey and I wouldn’t change any of it even if I used to think I would.

I look at pictures of smiling faces and this is what lights me up, remembering all the beautiful souls, who’s lives I hope are constantly being filled up.

Each and every person I came in contact with has been a gift either of love, experience or learning and while some gifts are harder than others to open even those hard gifts are gift enough.



broken nose, black eyes, names and multiple rapes

these were just some of the treats you would bring to me when we would date

cheating delusions of love and lies I took as  clear bate

manipulation and hatred were given never a clean slate

loathing women came at no cost you could always afford that rebate

bragging about beating me until I finally left but these were my treats and you call me your friend?

Gave me a son so on my voice you could depend ,

hear it for seconds your mind went insane

Just dont forget when I knew you my life was all about pain

Sadness, turned sickening when I seen just how little you had changed.

Life has a funny way of happening but yesterday’s conversation still rolling around up inside my brain.

Friend is not what I call you ,trust me we don’t view each other the same.


Morning Musings

A mid my dark night, the stars still light my way.

When the journey gets lonely, many will give up, succumb to weakness and take on a partner not for them but comfortable in the now for them.

I have been this person, taking less than what I deserved because company was “better” than going it alone.

I was afraid of those thoughts, those things coming from deep inside of me, that told me I was different, that the world you live in isn’t the same world that I see.

I felt fear of these feelings that I could never really explain, I could never shut off these emotions and they were so loud without even making a sound.

Of course the fear went deeper than anything that I ever knew , we all have those hard memories, you know?, the one’s that you can barely chew. …

Creator ,creates lessons, she always knows the way , the direction that she shoved me was hard and it put my whole life on display. ..

She placed so many people, crowded me as much as can be, she let me feel all their pain so that I could finally feel weak and seek…

When quite came this time it felt so warm to me, however letting all my thoughts come rushing in still brought me to my knees.

She fed me with my experience she knew I could find my way , through all my tears and heartbreak she knew she would always keep me safe .

Creator with her gentle touch and signs from all around she helped to pick me right back up every time I hit the ground.

love and light stay all around I live in ecstacy I want to thank the light and stars above for showing me how to see, that creator she lives all around all of us and certainly within me.