Dear Sh*tty Wives,

dear shitty wives

Here’s sh*t I see wives do in their marriages that needs to stop: If you constantly berate your husband, find it a chore to have sex with him, and cause fights to get attention, then this advice is for you. 

Click over to YourTango.com to read more….

Dear Sh*tty Wives: This Is Your Wake Up Call

Coup de Foudre

green plant

 

 

 

 

 

 

So lonely

My heart aches

A void to fill

An empty space

Wanting, yearning

Oh so much

For this to be more

Than just lust

So lonely

Everything feels so far away

I don’t want one more day to be wasted feeling this way

I say, I think, I don’t need rescuing

But what I really mean is

Be right, be real, be meant for me

And please, come rescue me

Disillusioned with Love

dissapearingcitygirlWhat is love, he asks

If it as pure and true

As she proclaims

Then how can it disappear

In a matter of days

Vanished

Ponder

He’s left to wonder

The other wanders

Further, further

She puts distance between them

An effort to protect her heart

Not quite knowing

No longer trusting

Doubting what is good and true

She reflects

Inward

There’s comfort there

In this space

She’s come to know so well

And so she stays

Inside her shell

For now

Not Settling

mouthSeeking connection

Hoping for a spark

Waiting for that feeling

That when it’s right

You just know

Wanting to be kissed

In that way

To feel

The way he made me feel

To have those emotions

Wash over me

Consume me

Feel so real

And raw

Then turn them into ever lasting

Maybe life has happened in this order

On purpose

Maybe I am supposed to keep seeking

What I try to find

Because if I never knew

It was out there to begin with

I would settle

Once you know though, you know

There’s no going back from there

“Timing, That’s Often It”

stepsI met someone.

Tall and handsome, he charmed me right into saying yes to a date.

The moment our eyes locked when we sat down together on our first date, I could feel the chemistry between us.

We talked for hours and with each story we exchanged, we grew closer.

We left the bar and went for a walk. He offered me his jacket.

We stopped at a grand marble staircase.

“Would you like to sit?” he asks.

“Yes!”

So we sit. And not much time passes before he kisses me.

He kisses me and my breath falls away.

I am so absorbed in the sweetness of his kiss that I literally have to stop.

I press my hand to his chest, gently, and pull back to look into his eyes and I breathe again.

I lean in for another.

He touches my face, my neck, I can feel him breathe in my scent, his tongue is doing this thing, and it’s amazing.

It’s as though his kisses have overwhelmed my senses and none of it adds up.

How could a first kiss feel like that? So powerful, so intense.

It feels like my entire universe lights on fire, like the earth beneath us has shifted and in this moment absolutely nothing makes sense, yet everything makes sense, and it doesn’t matter.

I wasn’t expecting this.

I wasn’t expecting him.

Had he not kissed me, I probably would have left our first date happy, content, looking forward to another.

But this?

The sheer timing of it has left me questioning everything.

Fierce Heart

rosesI love fiercely

Often giving too freely

of myself.

In the hands

of the wrong person,

pieces of my heart

break apart.

I gave and gave.

And it wasn’t enough.

Still, he wanted more.

To the point I reached

where I had nothing left to give.

So I closed my heart off,

Saved myself from him.

It won’t stop me

from loving again.

Perhaps it should,

but it won’t.

Nothing can stop

this fierce heart of mine

from loving

and being loved.

Anew

heart nature

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Does anyone ever really “start new”?

We all have a past, habits we’d rather not, a history that makes us who we are.

Starting new is a fallacy. Starting over, beginning again may be better descriptors.

We cannot move forward if we are still stuck in the past. The challenge is navigating the boundaries of where one ends and the other begins, and arriving at the optimal balance.

Maintaining who we are, staying grounded in our values, beliefs, our faith. Those are parts of ourselves that move on with us.

Letting go of insecurities, releasing ourselves from fear, trusting that we can jump and will be ok, these are not easy.

Changing the parts of ourselves we know we should, those require work, dedication, but it’s not as hard because it requires you to have faith in yourself, in your own abilities.

It’s trusting others, the ones who join you on this path.

That’s the hardest part when the place you came from is heartbreak.

Flawed

engagement ringI remember when he proposed, almost ten years ago. I was afraid to say yes, but I did.

I can recall the morning of our wedding, feeling so unsure, scared. I was young, I thought it was normal, cold feet and all.

On our honeymoon, I cried. A lot. I blamed exhaustion. I mean do couples really have sex on the first night of their honeymoon? Oh, right, I guess some people do.

Our marriage was flawed, but whose wasn’t, I rationalized. We said vows, we loved each other, we would work it out.

It wasn’t until I was in my early 30’s that I started seriously questioning my husband’s integrity as a man and his commitment to our marriage. But that only made me try harder. I loved him, I was happy (or so I thought).

Wasn’t that enough?

No. I learned the answer is no. It is not enough.

When my husband left me and we agreed to divorce, it felt like the ground beneath my feet crumbled.

Friends and family kept telling me I was going to be ok, that I was strong enough to get past it.

I believed in their words and accepted their love and support. They were right. I did get through it and came out with an incredible sense of clarity about my marriage.

I let go of my love, I let go of the anger (somewhat). I made the commitment to myself to be happy. That was my biggest struggle toward the end of my marriage—all I wanted was to be happy with the man I married. But he didn’t want the same thing, so what’s a girl to do.

It didn’t matter how hard I tried because you can’t make someone else happy, and you can’t make someone else try.

I don’t regret it though.

My marriage taught me that unless I gave my all, unless I strived to live my life with no regrets, that I wouldn’t truly be satisfied and clarity wouldn’t exist because in its place would lie wonder, doubt, curiosity.

The Moment He Lost His Charm

downloadThere was an exact moment when it happened, when my heart closed itself to him.

There will never be another moment like that. I know it’s final.

The day I left that part of him, that part of us, go, I started breathing again.

I also gained strength from the knowledge that I didn’t need him, I didn’t want him, and I never would again.

He’s a part of my life, we will always be connected, tethered to one another as parents, but I will never forget that moment that I knew, without a doubt, there would never again be an “us.”

He may have left me. He’s the one who moved out. But I have moved on.

What he gave me was so much more than what he took.

He freed me.

I no longer have to be burdened as the cause for his unhappiness.

I  was never the source anyways.

I know, with every beat of my heart, that I am no longer his.

Knowing that enables me to start living a greater life and experience an even greater love, one day.

Wave of Sadness

wavesplashThe sadness will come and go, this I know.

I allow myself to feel the full weight of it.

Feel it pressing me down farther than where I want to be.

Just like the past, I ride the waves of emotion, let them wash over me and serve as reminders of what my life once was, and the dreams I had for our lives together.

But I will not allow the waves to knock me over. I wipe away the tears, push the sadness to the back of my mind, and try to be more present in the moment.

We will be parents, we may even be friends again, one day, but what once was can never be again. Accepting that isn’t easy, and it’s not quick. It’s a process.

The nights are the hardest. It’s when I miss him the most. I want to reach for him, but he’s not there.

It’s lonely here, alone with my thoughts. I wonder why he couldn’t love me.

Surely there is something wrong with him. That’s easier than thinking there is something wrong with me, that I am unloveable.

I feel our love, our lives, slip right through my fingers.

I am helpless to stop the loss because I can’t do it alone anymore.

The weight of it is too much.

So I try to roll with it, to let it go bit-by-bit.