Miss' Boudoir

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To love Me—madly, truly, deeply—takes one hell of a determined heart, for I am as wild as they come.

In my commitment to ever-evolving and ever-transforming my self and this world we live in, I will push and pull— because I understand that any life worth living well must be built on a solid foundation of truth and so to love Me, the beating in your chest must be strong and you must know how to root down and stand your ground.

My ways, which I learn as I go, will shake the dust until everything that does not belong falls away—and at times, this might mean I push you away, too.

As fierce as I am, hidden in my heart of hearts is a too-big doubt that I can be loved completely and so be prepared for me to bare my teeth if you get too close to the place where I hide my fear; this is both a test of your intention and a way to keep my sacred heart safe, for to love Me, you must love all of my heart and the most-vulnerable parts you must love most of all.

There will be moments when the need to race through the sea (or around the world) takes over and I will bolt, with no explanation (I will try to my best to tell you why, but how I live is through feeling and even though words are a part of my craft, in these instances, my wildness can find none); and so I will go, soaking life in through all of my senses as I must do in order to understand how life works—and when you find yourself feeling forgotten, my heart will beg you to be patient, for I will return to you as soon as I can, panting and heart pounding, full of all I have learned.

(I am loyal and I understand that before I can show up for the one I loves, I must first learn how to show up for myself and it is through this strengthening of will and compassion that I ask you to invest your trust in me; for while my heart holds love for all beings, the kind I have for you will move mountains and light all the stars in the sky.)

I need this freedom to feed my creativity and I will look at you with my knowing eyes to see if you see it all, for because I am who I am, I will want you to be who you are, too—nothing more, nothing less.

I know the unsaid things, because I feel them—the ones we hold onto as our mouths move and the opposite words fall from our lips, instead; I will often get alarmingly still and this is because I need to in order to hear it all. In the hush, I will gather my information and file it away, for if I am anything I am organized and everything has a place (and there is even a place for things-that-don’t-have-a-place).

To love Me, understand that my space must be in order before I can do anything; my mind is the largest of libraries, and there is always work and learning to be done. Before I can settle my attention on you fully, everything must be in place and then I will curl up, serene and surrounded by the serenity of my heartbeat, and if the day is slow and the moon just right, I will wait for you to crack your chest open and show me your raw, beating heart.

(The idea of this might make you recoil, but please know that I have been making it my practice to spill open—and so while I don't expect you to make it yours too, there is a certain kind of give and take that offers balance to every union. So, from time-to-time, honor me—and more importantly, you. Show me that thing about you that you’ve taught yourself to hide away, for I can promise you that I will not shy away and I know in every stitch of my bones how to love like the ocean.)

I will transform what I have learned in these moments of deep listening into wisdom, and as I get older, I will learn how to rule myself accordingly. It is likely that on my path, this one that has no footsteps to follow; the one I designed for myself back before the start of time, that I will fail many, many times. I will be uncomfortable in my impatience and when you stop by for a visit one night, you may well find me in pieces on the kitchen floor, my body not able to lie or to hold it all in, tears and snot running down my face—and here is when you will witness the strength that vulnerability brings.

(I have shown you everything in this moment. I will stay there, and ask you to stay with me, until it is time to pick myself up, again. Your presence will fill my heart with gratitude, and I may even slide my hand into yours, or lay my head on your shoulder, and let out a sigh—I am shy when it comes to this sort of thing—accepting the support I so desperately crave and fear, so let it unfold, slowly and carefully.)

I will yearn not for a castle on a hilltop, but for a cabin in the woods, so that I can sit by the river that runs through the land and listen to the lessons the four directions has to share. I will bow down and touch my forehead to the ground often, in an act of reverence, gratitude and prayer—and I will understand that the breeze that whistles through treetops carries with it messages meant just for me.

I will need just-enough to sustain a simple life, for I know that richness lies in the slow, humble moments of laughter and figuring it out, together. I will feel like royalty if you return from a walk in the woods with a handful of wild flowers and if you take me on a date to gaze at the stars, I will devote my heart to you, and you alone.

I play battle with my ego and with the years marking themselves on my body as time often does, I have learned how to tango with the righteous voice that can sometimes fight to be heard.

I am prideful—yes—let not that pride be mistaken for anything other than the highest form of integrity; I will prefer quiet nights in to loud nights out and I will be happiest curled up with a book, for within the pages lies where my life began.

I am stubborn—but I am kind and my compassion reaches to the far corners of the earth. In my heart, I hold it all; the joy and the sorrow, the laughter and the tears. As much as I want you to wrap your arms around me and be held, I also need moments to hold myself, for I feel so deeply at times I wonder if it is a blessing or a curse.

So to love Me, you must first love yourself; let the space in your togetherness be like the sea and in my rhythm, you will learn the meaning of a heart roar.

So I know you have all been wondering how I am doing with school!!! It has been so much fun.

I have found some great girls in class to sit with and get help from and talk in general too!

My teachers are AMAZING!!!

Dr. G. is a cute and spunky little thing. I just adore her, and her stories, she has us all dying laughing during her lectures.... except for chemistry anyways!!!

Ya.... Which one of you lovers wants to come and do this homework for me?

Por favor?

I'd accept tutoring too!!

lol

Then my other teacher, I will call her Ms. L.

She is a very strong woman.

She will tell you what her oppinion is on a particular breed or animal, but then she tells you if you feel different then great. That's just her thoughts.

Which is awesome, because then you feel at ease with how you feel on a subject.

I have learned a lot from both of these woman. And I am so excited for the rest of my 22 months!!

I found the most adorable lunch box and to go cup for school!!

Yes of course it's pink! DUH!

I love how it has a little slot for it's blue ice to fit into.

And it has a little pink handle on top!!

Caden and I ready for school one morning!

He asks me every day how my school went and what animals I worked with.

He thinks it's pretty neat that him and mommy are both in school!

I knew that Vet Tech was in demand, but I didn't realize that it was the 5th fastest growing occupation in California right now. Makes me feel more confident about my choice!

I am SWAMPED with school work!

I get to school around ten am and I study till 11 which is one class starts. We get out around 2 and I go home. For every hour that I am in school per day, I have at least one hour of homework when I get home. So that's already 6 hours. Then I have my GE classes online when I get home, which I do at least 3 days a week. And I have homework to do for that class as well. Soon I will be starting my clinicals, which is another 4 hours a week! So if you don't hear from me much...That's why!

To know more just friend me on FB.

LOVE YOU ALL!

I am a religious Private Practice viewer. Every Thursday I take a hot bath, drink some wine and watch Grey's Anatomy and then Private Practice on my DVR.
I know I am not the only one who was affected by tonight's episode of Private Practice.
One of the main characters, the tough as hell-no one messes with her ever doctor Charlotte King, was brutally attacked by a man. He lacerated her arm, broke her hand, her shoulder, her nose, her eye socket and then raped her.
For a billion different reasons that you could only get if you watched it tonight, this was one eye opening episode.
But for me it hit very close to home. It awakened memories I thought I had buried deep. A reference point in my life I could gloss over and not have effect me.
8 years ago I was raped.
I was 17. And I thought the world was mine. I had left my parents home in Arkansas and moved back to California to be with my then best friend and her brother, my fiancée. I ended up moving to a ranch that belonged to an old family friend. A ranch that my mom had worked at, training horses, and where I had worked. 11 years old, spending my summer mucking out stalls, bathing horses, and wandering the lush country side.
Moving there was wonderful. I was surrounded by horses and dogs and baby sheep. I was in heaven. My boss was a woman. Her husband had left her (A few months before) and the ranch they had spent their whole life building to be with another woman. She was happy to have the company and I was happy to be there.
One night she was going out with some friends and I was in charge of closing up the barn and feeding the horses for the night. Her husband was there that night, he would come and do some things around the property on occasion. She was nice enough to let him still keep cars and such on the property and he would work on them on weekends.
I had finished up feeding and raking the walkways and was drinking some water in the tack room when he came in. I asked him to look at a tooth that was bothering me, he was a dentist. But while he had his hands on my cheeks he was not looking in my mouth, but in my eyes. And it scared me. I was all of a sudden aware of how stupid I was. I tried to make some comment about going home and calling my boyfriend as I shrugged him off and walked away. But he grabbed the back of my hair and threw me into the wall. I was stunned. I kept wondering what I did wrong, why was he mad at me? He was like a grandfather. He taught me how to drive a hay baler. I went to get up and he punched me so hard in the stomach I couldn't breathe. I fell onto some saddle blankets and couldn't get up. I remember gasping like a fish while he pulled my pants down. And my mind could not wrap around what was happening. What he was doing to me. Months of sex with my boyfriend, but this hurt like I was being torn in two. And I couldn't understand what was being done to me.
I screamed. But he laughed. No one could hear me. There was no one for miles. And the dogs just sat there, watching.
When he was done, he was so calm. He leaned in really close to my face and told me no one would believe me. Then he got up and walked away. I don't know how long I had lain there. But eventually I got up and walked the half mile in the dark to the house. I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror. I just took a shower and went to bed. The whole next day I was in a daze. That afternoon when I went home for lunch My boss was there. She screamed at me. Threw dishes at me that cut me and left scars. He told her that morning that I had begged him for it. I tried to calm her down and tell her but she wouldn't listen.
I was sitting on the floor, bleeding, and she leaned down and said "No one will believe you. Everyone knew your mom and that she was a liar. No one will believe you." Then she left.
I cleaned up the glass, and called my best friend Mike. I told him to come and get me. That I was leaving. He called my boyfriend and they came that night and took me to a girlfriend's house for the night. I made plans to go live with an Aunt and Uncle, and the next day my boyfriend took me to their house.
I didn't tell my boyfriend what happened. He had been my best friend for 6 years, and he would have killed him. And all I could think of was that I could not let him go to jail for me. He broke up with me a few days later.
I told no one what happened.
Who could I have told? I had no mother. No one to hold me and make me feel safe. No one to tell me I would be ok. I was scared shitless waiting for my period.
And I blamed myself. My first step-dad had been very abusive. And isn't that the statistic? Once abused you are twice as likely to have it happen again.
Once attacked you are always a victim.
I can't tell you how to make the pain of rape go away. I can't tell you how to prevent the flashbacks. Or how to stop the nightmares from reoccurring.
I can tell you that when you think you have moved on it will will haunt you unexpectedly. I can tell you that in the worst moment it will debilitate you. When you are all alone is when you will remember and cry and no one will be there to hug you.
February 2003 I was raped by a man I knew and trusted. I was 17 and I was so in love with life. Some stupid TV show that I love brought those memories back to me almost 8 years later.
And all I know to ease the pain right now is to write it out, and hope it won't haunt me all night.