Thank you to everyone who gives a crap, looks at what I write and shares it. Thank you to those who comment and engage me. I am appreciative for an opportunity to write and share, it is wonderful.
Thank you to everyone who gives a crap, looks at what I write and shares it. Thank you to those who comment and engage me. I am appreciative for an opportunity to write and share, it is wonderful.
What seemed innocent enough at first, quickly became much more twisted and demented. If you were an onlooker at my family you would think everything was as it should be. You would see members of my family as very nice, helpful and charming at best. If you were fortunate enough to ever visit, you would see a place where people of my family ate, slept, and played. There would be pictures on the wall of times past, and people at varying ages, usually of us kids. There would be no full family picture though. You never saw all five of us. My father would excuse himself in one way or fashion just to never be photographed. I guess you could say he was photo shy. I am not sure. Each family member had their personal things there in our house, and to onlookers we were completely normal.
My mom went faithfully to morning Sunday worship and never went on Sunday nights because she was not allowed to. She worked a fulltime job and my father worked a fulltime job at the same place he had always been. He built furniture for a living and he was top-notch at building almost anything a person would want. My mother was a supervisor at her many sewing plants and she was excellent at making anything you could possible want for clothes or otherwise. Both my parents were very skilled at what they had interest in and that was something they made a careers in their life. Neither of them graduated high school. Neither of them went to college, but through the devotion they had for their jobs they excelled there. I admired their tenacity and to me I thought they were both very smart.
My mother attended everything I participated in at school and my father would never. He did not like crowds and he rarely ventured anywhere else besides his job place and home. If he needed something he would go to the closet convenience store. Attending my school functions were not top on his list of things to do. I had often asked him to come but he would give some lame excuse as to him not being able to come. It got monotonous asking him, so eventually I came to expect him not coming. I often had to make my own bogus excuse as to why my own father never came. I played lots of basketball, volleyball, and cheerleading. I also performed in chorus events and competition, so there was always plenty of opportunity to come see me. I was sad that he thought no more of the things I was interested in . That was just one of the many things though that no one never really knew about my family.
I was the middle child and to say that my position was the best in the family would be one of sarcasm. For it was not the best in fact it felt like the worst possible place to be. I was never the oldest and never the youngest, so that meant that the special things those positions had , I did not. Instead I got hand me downs and was the one always responsible for my younger sibling and their mishaps and I was not old enough to do any “firsts”. I instead made the best of the hierarchy I was in. I learned to take what good I could and run with it.
Man, there is so much in between background in my life that would make your heads turn but I will try to make this shorter than it really is, for the sake of keeping your interests.
So moving the timeline up further into my teenage years…
I remember spending many overnights with friends and it usually would be on a weekend since I was not allowed to spend the night with anyone on a school night. I would usually go home with my friend from school letting out and stay till Saturday morning sometime. I really enjoyed getting away from my family and my house because thing there could not had been more disturbing and complicated for me.
The things that were happening at my house, in my home, no one knew about. No one came riding to save the day on a white horse. The things that were happening I was having to deal with all on my own. I was always looking for a way to be gone or separated from my family back in those days. Even if it was riding to the grocery store with my mom. I always asked to go when my mother was going somewhere and I always asked a friend if I could spend the night with them.
I liked seeing how normal families lived. I would study their behaviors as if I was writing a novel. I sometimes secretly wished that they would let me live with them because frankly, I was looking for an escape from my home life. I wanted to live in a normal, healthy family. It was not too much to hope for, or at least I did not think so back in those days. I would study the family dynamics and roles that my friends family had and how they interacted with each other. Often I really could not imagine my family ever being that normal. Mostly I prayed at night that mine would change. Sadly, it never did, in fact it kept getting stranger and harder to live in.
Where can a teenager go when the family they are in does not want them anymore? I often cried myself to sleep wondering why my life was so hard and what did I do to deserve the way I was always treated. Maybe in my mind I blamed it on growing up and getting older. Maybe I even blamed it on my ways of thinking or my need to be loved so much. Was it possible that I was asking too much out of the family I had?
I knew I was far from being perfect and that sometimes I had to be difficult to parent but I feel my actions were always in pursuit of my not wanting to disappoint or fail as a child. I was not the smartest, in my family, nor was I the perfect kid but I darn welltried. Sometimes I would forge a signature on a bad grad that I got in school just so I would not disappoint my parents. I sometimes lied about doing my homework and sometimes I was in trouble for talking in class, but generally I tried. I have to admit I had a lot on my mind during those school years and I know that affected my way of learning and the attention or lack of attention I gave to something in school.
I remember one time opening up to a teacher about things at home. This was during a time when my mom had went in for routing tuba ligation surgery after having my brother. Her surgeon had cut the wrong thing and she almost bled to death from it. I remember the hushed talks my father and grandmother was having about her and it scared me to death. I would sneak onto my parents bed and sniff my mom’s pillow and pray to God that she would come back home. I needed my mom and I was really having a hard time. I jus knew that he was near death and that she would be in the hospital for a while. I told my teacher this, I confided in him and he did not care. He had brought me out in the hall and was telling me my grades were bad, that I might fail my class if I did not get it together. I explained that I could not concentrate because my mom almost died and was not home yet… He did not acknowledge that but instead wrote a letter to my parents to be signed upon arrival at school the next day. I just knew my father would not be happy that I told my teacher our personal business, not to mention that I was failing so I forged my mom’s signature. I knew that it was wrong but still. I say that to say I was far from perfect. I also passed that class with a D. Yay for me. Or was it?
Certainly things were stressful at school, stressful at home and on top of it all I was feeling scared of my father and unwanted by my siblings and I dreamed of better days.
My father was not the most loving person and he only should an interest in things that he really liked. Things like me…
My father and I had an unhealthy relationship in my teenage years. He would manipulate me and I feared him. Often time I was nothing more than his personal helper. He summoned me to bring him coffee out to his garage/workshop and he had to have his coffee one way and one way only. If I got it wrong, he would grill me as to why I did not love him enough to get one simple thing right. He would tower over me and intimidate me, so much so I usually ended up crying and trying to re-do whatever it was that offended him. He was 6 feet tall and I was 5’3″ at best. He could make me feel so very small. I never understood what love for him had to do with what he wanted me to do for him. That was one of the multiple things I dealt with. Funny thing is he never showed this interaction with me, when another person was around , especially my mom.
I think he knew when to do things and when he shouldn’t. He was very sneaky.
I remember when I first took interest in a guy from church. When he fund out, he was once again trying to intimidate me. He would use questions like, “You would replace me for that guy, would you?” or ones like “Why do you need a boyfriend, you have me, ain’t I enough?” ” Don’t let me catch you kissing on another guy,” he would often say. That behavior seemed odd to me, and I often wondered if he was jealous and why in the world would he be, he was my father.
Famous last words of a fool…
To be continued…
Thanks for reading! Comment, share, like!
MwsR ❤

Sometimes, life is difficult but along with those difficult moments it is filled with so much more. We all learn from the good as well as the bad times in our own lives. As I get older I am reminded also that life is fleeting and any, if all, moments are what you make from them and take from them.
There are so many things I as a person need to learn and change into something better. I have not been without much disappointment, but in the same regards, I think I too have brought someone much disappointment at one point or another. What do you do with the knowledge of disappointment? You try to learn and move forward from what caused it.
I am not a psychologist or a mental health professional but I have went to college and have a degree in an area where we were taught to be life coaches and life mentors. In my degree of Human Service, we learned that the human mind is very complex and powerful. It is not so easy to know what we should always think or do but it starts with one move forward and then it will reveal to you what you are looking for. Nothing worth having, ever came easy. As in life and in single moments, we need to remember what our goals are, what we want from our life and what we are willing to do to get that.
Difficult times are lessons and we all have them. If you say you don’t then you deceive yourself. Denial is also a hard thing to get past once you start thinking along those lines. First step to change is to come to terms with the fact you actually need to change. It is hard to change if you see no problem.
I sometimes think deeper than I do on other days. I am just learning things in my life as you are. I have maybe been places in my life that you haven’t but that is okay. Just means I can help where others may not be able to or perhaps give advice towards a certain situation that maybe others can’t. Just like you, you have something to offer another person, all of us do.
I write all this to say that I am not to be the sole person another would listen to, because second opinions always are beneficial. One advice might not be the best but with two you can compare and take the best options. I love writing, I love sharing and if you have something to say, please comment. I love reading comments and if you want to share, please do.
This is just what was on my mind this day.
Difficult= makes you stronger and wiser.
It is certainly true, that everyone sees things different from one another.
Sometimes what is not important to one, doesn’t mean it isn’t to another.
I certainly have realized this more and more as I grow older. I feel sometimes we fail as humans, because we cannot put ourselves in another’s shoes. We cannot share a space or place, let alone the same planet without taking into effect another person is here as well. Sure, we have our own cars, houses, possessions, etc. but we are sharing this world.
Kindness goes a long way and it trickles into every aspect of our lives and places we go. Trying to keep in mind another’s feelings, wants and needs are what it takes to live in harmony and peace.
I feel like we also fail to see we are surrounded by nature, as well. There are animals here too. Our world’s animals are being mistreated as well. I hear of terrible things people do to them all the time. They live here too and should have certain respect.
Just reminding myself, and those who live here to of the way to treat others. Their lives matter as much as ours. Be it a person or an animal.
I say, ” Show love and empathy, and it will come to you!”
Peace, and thanks for reading!
MwsR

Yes, I live in America, land of the free and home of the brave, as the Star Spangled Banner song says.
We are 241 years old. Everywhere across the United States people are gathering in their homes, at parks, and anywhere they can to celebrate.
I think though, a lot of people have no real idea what we stand for. Sometimes I think that there is not enough pride in our heritage or its core values. We were founded as a nation under God and with rights that cover a whole multitude of principles and people and beliefs. In America we are supposed to stand for justice and liberty to all, but sadly I see us tearing ourselves apart. I see people being discriminated against, people’s rights being taken away, and our moral system vanishing. No, I am not saying this is abundant every single place in America, but it is prevalent. I see us tearing down the very heart of who we should actually be and what we should stand for.
Don’t get me wrong, I love America, and believe it to be one of the best places in the world. Yet, I am not under a false sense that says we are doing everything right. Anymore I see people afraid to go to public events, afraid to speak out against things that are wrong, and people who would rather bend to every one and everything just to keep from conflict and maintain peace. I see in some accounts people who feel ostracized and manipulated and those who fear being their selves.
I wish our nation was always pleasant and kind, never wavering in the fundamentals and basic rules of humanity but less face it, that is not the world we are now living in. Instead we find ourselves losing that in our daily lives. We need to go back to our beginnings and learn from past mistakes. We do not need to conform to the changing times but stay strong in the midst of it. Just my perspective. I just want my children, grandchildren to know the great America we can be.
Despite all the things that are wrong or going in the wrong direction, we still genuinely care for people and we still love our country. We still help our neighbors and come together when a community is devastated or has been attacked. WE still pray and worship as we see fit and we are genuinely resourceful and proud. We are thankful and we for the most part contribute back to our nation. In spite of the turmoil, we generally seek peace. WE rise when we should and we don’t retreat. I love my country, I love its roots, its people and the fact we started as a God-fearing country. I applaud our efforts toward peace and our advances in our medical, scientific and military efforts.
We are not superior in this world of many nations, but we certainly should be proud.
Happy Birthday America! I salute you, which by the way is my right, living here in America. A lot of people have sacrificed and defended our nation. I believe we can make America a safe and good place for all.

It was always cold in here, not one bit of heat, except from my teacup poodle, who I kept beside me to help with warmth. I never knew why my room was always the coldest one in the house. Perhaps it was because my door to my bedroom was always to stay shut and we only had a fireplace with which to keep the house warm. Much of that house was cold…in a different sense. Why was my brother allowed to keep his door to his bedroom open and mine had to be closed? I bet it was because when it came to him, nothing was second best,, he always had the choice among choices, the supreme choice, as far as my mom was concerned. He was much younger than me but that did not really matter or put his needs in their proper order of ages. What he wanted, he always, somehow, no matter if needed or not, he got .
Back to the heat issue…
My room was next to the living room and across from my room was my brother’s room. So we both should have received warmth from the living room’s fireplace, just my opinion, of course. I often dreaded winter time because I knew I would freeze through the night and have to stay bundled up under a tremendous amount of cover. My poor little dog was always shivering and I bought him a sweater to put on during the winter months. He was a mere 5 pounds, dripping wet. He was my best friend and more than not, my protector. Anytime my mother would barge in my room, disgruntled or in a bad mood, she would start her tirade of demeaning words and my dog, would take a guarded defense stance across my lap as if to protect me. It was a good thing my dog was scary to my mother or he would have surely been hurt doing his guard of me. I appreciated him on that fact alone, he was an ankle biter to all but me. The lack of heat was not my only issue at my parent’s house growing up but one I am choosing to share.
What was it that made my room off-limits to the heat from our fireplace? Why did I have to stay cold while the other family members were warm and toasty. In fact my parents camped out on our couch bed I the winter time, because they wanted to stay warm. Their bedroom was in the back of the hall where there was also a bathroom, and my bedroom and my brother’s. So if my parents needed to stay warm, just imagine the cold I felt inside my bedroom. I was at my biggest weight 105 pounds. I was petite and small framed and needed a lot of warmth back in those days. Haha. I can’t say that now, in fact I run from heat, just kidding, but seriously close to the truth.
A lot of things come to mind when I think of my parent’s house, my childhood life. Not everything was bad there, but there was ways that would make a person question what the reason behind their actions could have been. I was often not as “special” to my parents as my sister, or brother. I did not even have to hear those words, because they showed me. I am not sure what causes parents to treat their children with such difference and disdain. Being a mother I have a lot of things I would like to change about my children but they are who they are, and they all are special to me in one way, shape, or form. I really hope they know that.
Anyway, I hope you treat your loved ones with the love they deserve and nothing less.
Each person is an individual, no two the same, if people were clones we would never be “special”.
Thanks for reading,
MwsR ❤

As a kid, wishing for things to stay the same, but realizing that they would not, I often daydreamed. I guess I reckoned that if I could not physically change things then I would just dream of what I wanted. Daydreaming, or pretend as others call it,, helped me a lot growing up. Each of my dolls had a name, and so did my stuffed toys. I can still by memory, say their names, they were that special to me. I still have a lot of my stuffed toys that I could not part with because they were so significant to me in one way or another. There are so many times that I felt my toys were the only ones who loved me.
Now I know that might sound weird to some, but my toys, served a purpose for me. Just like a lot of people have various attachments to things. Think if you will about how for some it could be an attachment to a certain picture, thing, or perhaps a particular car.
For whatever reason people hold significance and meaning in things that were around during a special time in their life. It would be a bad time as well, that maybe they had. I was a kid that felt abandoned by a mother I , at the time, did not know. I didn’t even know the whole story as to why things went the way they went. All I knew as a child was what I was told or what I could conceive on my very own. I turned to my stuffed animals and dolls because I thought they were pretty special. I also thought that perhaps they heard me and would always listen to me. I am not quiet sure what my frame of mind was back as a child but I do know I, to this day, love my stuffed animals and dolls as I did being a child. You can ask my children, my stuffed things are very dear to me. I am not obsessive or unnaturally weird about them but each one has a reason for being with me.
I guess as an adoptive child I needed those reasons for holding onto the ones I did. I would many times, venture into my “magical” closet and sit and talk to my stuffed toys and dolls as if they were really listening. You can get a lot of your chest when you need to, haha. One of my favorites is a stuffed elephant. She is grey with pink inside her ears. Her name is ELLIE. Yes, she is named and she is a she and my grandfather gave her to me. My grandfather brought her one day to my house for my 13th birthday. She has and still is with me, after all this time. I lost my grandfather years ago, he was 98, and I cherish Ellie more now than ever. I also have a stuffed monkey, his name is Elijah. He has a plastic banana in his hand, and is part plastic and part stuffed. He is still with me today. I don’t remember where he came from but he was the best monkey a girl could have asked for. Another is a doll, that my uncle brought me from Germany, Her name is Emma and my uncle said he thought of me when he saw her, so he had to buy her for me. She has eyes that close when you tilt her, and they are blue like mine. She has brown hair and she has a dress on. I keep her because she was one of the few things my uncle got for me, plus she was a doll from Germany. My uncle has since passed on but she will always remind me of him.
See,things can hold such special meaning to a person. it does not have to be special to everyone or anyone else, as long as it to you.
My stuffed dolls and toys helped me go through many changes in my life as a child and they served as a comfort to me. Some children chose a special blanket or pillow, but I choose my toys. There is more I could say and so much more to share, but that is for another day. If you find comfort in something it is okay to cherish it and keep it around you. it is okay to let things remind us of times past or times cherished. no one can tell you how to personally deal with life and your circumstances, it is not theirs to decide for you. Go ahead and deal with life the way you can and the way that works for you. It may look foolish or insignificant to others but that is okay.
Thanks for reading,
MwsR ❤

“Secretly I yearn to be accepted, yet I fail to meet those kinds of standards.”
“I pose little comfort when I am desperately trying to comfort.”
“Some of the best times are those when no one says a word, but they hear exactly what each other are saying.”
“To be grounded does not mean you need to stay still. on the contrary one must wrestle with their own will.”
“When a person shows you their true colors, when they can’t give you anything, walk away from them. No, run away from them and never look back.”
“My greatest joy was always to see my children smile, hear them laugh at my jokes, feel them hold my hand as we danced across the floor. My greatest pain was when they could not smile, when they lost the ability to laugh and when they forgot how to dance.”
” Loving anything is better than not loving.”
MwsR ❤