Let The Adventures Begin Again!

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Dear friends, fans and followers,

As many of you are quite aware, I’ve posted relatively nothing new here in about a year. I took time off because I needed some time to heal, absorb things and make some sense out of my world. I’ve also been involved in some business dealings that have been quite the kerfuffle, with legalities, politics and more. I have begun to feel like a secret agent with all my contacts in other countries and within our own government. I really wish that I could go into details, but if I told you I would then have to kill you.😉

So I came back to Illinois and endured some fierce cold almost 2 years ago. I was in touch with Jo still but have since completely broken ties and think I’ve probably got her blocked all the way around now, so that she can’t even be an ant at my picnic anymore. I feel good about it and I feel that moving on was the right thing for me and I have not looked back.

My ex-girlfriend from 20+ years ago and I were in touch for about one year. Ellen, as it turns out, hasn’t changed much in those twenty years. In fact, I think she might possibly be MORE tormented than she was back then. She’s no longer speaking to me because after about a one week escapade of her calling me several nights in a row and talking about gloom and doom and how suicidal she felt, I finally gave the Suicide Hotline her address and phone number and asked them to try to deal with it and help her.

I knew it was probably futile and I told the woman on the phone that she’d be dealing with an highly intelligent, mentally ill person who honestly was going to chew her up and spit her out. Turns out I was right about that. I received a nasty message stating “never contact me again” and I was strangely okay with that. I suppose after all the drama that she was bringing and laying at my feet, I was glad to be done with it? I had gotten what I needed from it, which was knowing that the child I had helped her bring into the world at Bayfront Medical Center all those years ago was fine. Complete closure for me…that’s two notches. Let’s move on…

I let myself get involved with another woman which I quickly learned was a complete train wreck of a situation and I got out of that very quickly. Apparently I have learned some important lessons about getting out of a bad situation quickly? Make that three notches on the post for me so far this year! Moving right along….

A woman in England started chatting me up one day. I really liked her but things seemed sort of one-sided. I was going to go there to meet her. She made it clear that she wouldn’t be the first one to travel anywhere. Red flag number one. She found out her daughter was pregnant and kept going on and on about how she didn’t look like a grandmother and it all began to center around how she had raised her kids, was not going to be stuck babysitting and that she didn’t even want to be called grandmother. Conceit because another red flag, as well as ego issues. Eventually we got into it a little over the fact that she let her friends dictate to her just how involved with me she should be and she became more worried about their opinions than my feelings. I ended it. Yay for me! More proof that I had learned lessons! Make that FOUR notches in my post for the year and mooooo-ving right along!

As some of you may recall, I lost Captain shortly after getting back in Illinois. I have since been acquired by an old dachshund named Harley, a 13 inch beagle named Hannah who just turned one year old, and Jack Russell terrier named Hank who is such a little love. They drive me crazy sometimes, especially Hannah because she’s so young and full of energy but I wouldn’t trade them for the world. They’ve helped me heal from many wounds.

When I parked this RV here again, if my emotional wounds and scars had been visible, I’d have looked like someone who had been horse-whipped and drug behind one. I’ve always been a strong person. I’ve gotten even stronger over the years, but I have literally been at my breaking point many, many times over this past year.

The children have also healed me. Again, they make me crazy sometimes but there is simply nothing more soothing nor healing for me as the hug of a two year old who lays her head on my shoulder, wraps her arm around my neck and pulls me close to her as I carry her. The level of trust and love overwhelms me and brings me to the verge of tears so many times. I’ve been blessed to hold an infant many times in the past few weeks and look into his beautiful, blue eyes. When he smiles at me I melt into a puddle of emotion. At the bottom of that puddle I found peace and love brought me back to the surface.

Several weeks back, a few months now already, I was very blessed to find myself talking more and more to someone whom I had actually had a crush on for a while. You all know what I’m talking about and I know it. You KNOW….that person who you see in your Facebook feed and you always have to stop and look at what they say. Sometimes you find yourself looking at their pictures and thinking how lucky their girlfriend or significant other is. Maybe you even feel a little twinge of jealousy? Well…I admit it. I did feel all those things.

I’d see her post all these sweet things over the past year or so about her spouse. I admired the way she was so devoted and loyal. Drove me a little crazy because I wanted that with someone and I also thought that she was very beautiful. I was attracted but I’m a very old-fashioned person. I don’t flirt with someone that I know is with someone else. That’s bad juju and you just don’t do it! Well, one day on my wall, lo and behold, she posted that it was over. I won’t go into why, but I can tell you that it surely wasn’t her fault.

I found myself in a conundrum. I wanted to talk to her SO bad and at the same time I wanted to be respectful. After typing and erasing about a dozen messages, I finally sent one of them and then I sat back and nearly had a nervous breakdown wondering if I’d hear from her. I literally, and I’ve told her this, sat there and had a discussion with myself trying to get the balls to send this message to her. I said to myself, “well, maybe you SHOULD reach out and go after someone. For almost 20 years you’ve let women chase you and that hasn’t exactly been working out for ya…” SO….I did it….I made the first move.

A few moments went by and holy cow, I got a response. Now let me assure you that it was all very respectful. I expressed my sympathy for what happened and what she was going through. She thanked me. We had some very nice discussions. Eventually, we both sort of realized that we were moving beyond just friends and I have to say that she is absolutely, hands down, the most amazing person I have ever come to know and when it comes to my past choices….I think that I finally got this one right.

So….there is the last year in a nutshell. So what now? I am happy to say that the business side of things is paying off and that very soon, probably a matter of days, my income will again be freed up and I’ll be in a very good place financially. My chains will be cut away and once again this bird is free to fly. I’ll be headed to the eastern coast of the upper United States. That is where the mystery lady resides. For now, I’m keeping things just between her and I for a lot of reasons. Perhaps that is another thing that I’ve learned??😉

My plan is to spend time there while some family things are resolved and just bide my time. I do have some business things that will be happening as well, but now is not the time for me to disclose them. I will say that many people are going to be shocked and excited all at the same time. It is ALL good, folks. Honest.

To start things off on the correct foot, I’ve given the blog an updated look. I’m taking on more of a warm and inviting look, rather than the pained and hard-edged look that it had before. In the last year I believe that I have changed drastically in the way I see things and feel things. I feel happier and kinder. I feel ready to move on and settle down a little. So there you go…a new look and a new outlook. This holiday season, from Halloween thru New Year’s Eve is going to be a whole new start for me. The world has taken on new colors and they are all happy.

I’d like to ask you all to please, share my blog with friends and in groups that you belong to. There are many more adventures coming, as well as plans for three books I have in my head and need to get on paper! This blog is essentially free and takes a lot of time, which was also part of the reason that I stopped doing it for so long. I’m now in the position that I can afford to do it again! What little I receive from advertising only pays the fees for keeping the URL and the site going. I appreciate all your shares. Also, don’t forget to come by Facebook and like my fan page www.facebook.com/mybutchworld

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2013 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 56,000 times in 2013. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 21 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

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Dear Keeper of My Heart

Dear Keeper of My Heart,

You reminded me that it had been a while since I had written anything. This I already knew because writing anything at this point in my life is almost more than I can bare. My wounds run so deep. Daily I feel the pain, just as fresh as if it were all just yesterday. Like the cold steel of a razor blade cutting into my flesh, I feel the pain; sharp and cunning as it sets my nerves on edge and makes me feel as if it is my soul which is bleeding out all over the floor. I look down and I see the pool of blood at my feet, always there with me though no one else can see. The emotions that I am feeling are impossible to explain. I feel as though I pour my heart out to people all the time, yet a reviewer can say that I do not share enough of my pain or go deep enough. How do I bring people into my hell? Perhaps she had a point? In shielding myself from it, perhaps I do not do it justice – the pain that is.

Keeper of My Heart, I met you a long, long time ago. My mind would not accept the attraction that I felt initially. You were in a relationship with someone else, even though it was a very bad one. You were also much younger than me and I felt like I was somehow wrong to take advantage of that.  Me – always trying to be the one with scruples and the one who stands for something. I always tried to have some code of honor that made sense then but it makes no sense to me now. I loved you and I wouldn’t accept it and I would not act on it. “Keeper” you persisted. You stayed in contact with me. You talked to me and you poured yourself out to me. I got to see parts of you that I know you have not shared with others, even now. You had yourself wrapped-up in a relationship that damaged you daily and had your emotions up and down. You wanted to do what your own honor told you that you should do – stay and make it work. Admirable quality in all honesty. I just wish you weren’t always trying to make things work with everyone else but me….

Eventually I had to walk away. It wasn’t because I didn’t care or that I didn’t have the patience. I left because my heart felt as if it had been shoved through a meat grinder and I hurt so bad. I left feeling not good enough. I felt like I was good enough for you to reach out to, depend on, flirt with and talk to but not good enough for a relationship. I wasn’t good enough for you to leave her and give me a chance. I blamed myself for putting you off in the beginning. I told you that you were with someone else. I told you that you were too young. I told you everything except that I loved you but I did.

I ran away from you. Those were even your words. I went to another state. I wanted and needed to be alone. No one really understood why. They saw a bigger picture I suppose, but the truth was that my heart was broken and my feelings of not being good enough – or just “enough” – had me feeling rejected, humiliated, angry and lost. You left me feeling frustrated and never good enough. I needed to go heal and be alone. I chose the woods and a cabin.

I started down a path of punishing myself. This I didn’t realize until recently. I was so angry at myself for not knowing what to do to get you to leave her. I was mad at ME for never being enough or what you needed. I wasn’t enough to get you to leave that abuse and the thoughts that you’d stay with someone like that when all I wanted to do was love you and protect you was just too much for me. I swirled into depression and anger. I eventually ended-up in FL to date a woman who was what you weren’t. She was free, she was closer to my age and she wanted me around. I couldn’t stand her almost from the beginning. Yes, she was my age. Yes, she had a fantastic career and she wanted me to move in with her. Still…she wasn’t you and her soul just didn’t speak to me. I didn’t like who she was underneath all of those superficial things.

Oddly, you contacted me – you basically found me – shortly after I had told her goodbye. I was several states away by then and all we could do was talk. We talked and talked. My heart got happy again and I realized that I had a chance to make good on the huge mistake I’d made before. I should have stuck around and I should have had more patience. My heart had been so hurt, but soul had never forgiven my brain for running. I had a chance to fix it all…and I loved you. I struggled through more heartaches and pain to get back to Illinois and I survived through extreme conditions for several months only to find that you STILL weren’t ready to leave her. I cried myself to sleep a lot of nights. I felt like you misled me and once again, I felt like you had made me ‘second best’ in your life. I felt like I just was destined to never feel quite good enough for you. I spent countless days and nights just waiting and hoping that I’d get to see you or spend some time with you. All I wanted in this world was to just touch your face! I waited and waited and finally, after several months, I gave-up … but I didn’t leave here this time. My soul won that battle this time. I knew there was unfinished business between us I guess? We can’t help who we love or how our heart reacts.

A few months later, you contacted me and told me you were finally free. We talked and I wanted to see you. I hoped to see you alone, but you always protect yourself by being in groups. I get that and yes, I recognize it as a behavior you have when you are protecting yourself. It is very scary how much I actually understand you sometimes. I agreed to come out and meet you with a group of your friends. Somehow we missed each other and I felt stood-up. I felt like I was right back to two years prior and you made a promise to me that you didn’t keep. ALL those times you told me you’d ‘try’ to come by and see me when you knew I was there waiting on you. All those times that you told me I would see you and I’d wait around for hours only for you to pop online and tell me that you got busy with something or sometimes to not even mention that you knew you had let me sit there – hopeful, sad, and broken-hearted.

Don’t get me wrong, on one hand I completely understood. Just on the other hand, my heart was being completely shredded and I just had to assume that you had NO CLUE how much I really did love you. So anyway, I got mad. Very mad. My anger was a reaction to my pain. Drinking six beers while I waited and got more and more upset did not help. I went home and I sent you a message that was probably the nastiest thing I have written to anyone in my life. Looking at it today, I cry. I never wanted to say such hurtful things to you ever. I never wanted to hurt you at all. I only ever wanted to hold you and wipe your tears away. I wanted you to feel my love and know that I’d always be there. Instead, I ended-up saying hurtful things and walking away again because of my own pain. It wasn’t what I wanted.

Yes, I had a rebound relationship this time. Not something I typically ever do but I guess she said the right things and I was vulnerable. It lasted about two months. My thoughts went straight back to you and I contacted you and apologized. I needed to and I knew that. Regardless what ever would or wouldn’t happen between you and I, I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t apologize to you for hurting you. I find you dating someone. I take the kick in the crotch as well as can be expected. A) I understand all the reasons and B) I had no right to be upset because I’m the one who walked away and fucked things up when you were finally free.

Here is what I know though: this new person doesn’t know you like I do. They don’t know half of what you have been through nor who you really are. They don’t know the precious gift they hold in their hands…and the things going on and being said already actually prove that. You know what I mean. I know I’m not perfect, but I’ve held on for three years just hoping for a chance to show you how much I truly loved you and wanted to be able to take care of you. I wanted to be able to hold you and touch you and tell you that you are perfect just the way you are. I wanted to tell you that you are beautiful and that your soul is a bright, shining star in my universe that has led me and kept me going for so long. I wanted to build something with you that would last and I think in a lot of ways that scared you too.

I’ve decided that I’m going to be okay with what you are doing with your life right now. Go ahead and have your fun. I’m back and I am not going anywhere and when you are ready to settle down and start moving towards all the dreams you ever wanted, with someone who values who you are and respects you for that, I will still be here. So when you flirtatiously told me that I really needed to write you something…we both know you didn’t mean like THIS, but here it is – the whole truth, nothing but the truth and totally honest. Not many people ever come into someone else’s life and tell them that they love them and will wait for them as long as it takes because their happiness is the most important thing in the world. I want you to be happy and I want you want me in your life because it is what YOU want … not what you need. I want to share your world, not a piece of you. I want to be the person who puts you first and takes good care of you. I want to give you the world and watch you grow into the amazing person that I know you are.  I know the things you want for your future and your life and I am prepared and able to give you all those things. All you have to do is make up your mind to be happy once and for all. In the time being, I’ll be here, waiting and not going anywhere. There…I wrote something just for you. Might not be what you expected but it was what I needed to say.

Jess

Categories: Uncategorized | 9 Comments

I Am A Book

I feel like an old book, bound in leather of the highest quality that has become soft and worn over the last 45 years. I’ve seen so very much and I’ve traveled all around, from person to person. I’ve been touched by those who are puzzled and confused by me and perhaps even more so after browsing my chapters. Some have closed my cover shut without even taking much of a look. Their loss. A few came along and read a chapter or two and then just put me down. What a shame that they didn’t take the time to read my entire story, feel the things I’ve felt and let their eyes see the things which I have seen.

leather book

When it comes to the chapters entitled “Love” my pages are nearly blank. Some of the words have faded and become hard to read, though they are still there to see. Like a work from Shakespeare, it has been mostly written as tragedy. None of that matters much though, as I’ve come to learn. Life is about how much we love ourselves and learn to do what is right and true. These are lessons that I guess I just always knew…but perhaps my soul had forgotten? Sometimes I feel lonely and I wish for someone to hold my hand and snuggle with at night. I know she’s out there somewhere and I just need to keep turning the pages until she is written into my story.

After “Love” comes an entire chapter on “Forgiveness” and I’ve found that it is the key. I’ve re-read every word in this chapter over and over and sometimes I still forget things, so I read them again. Practice makes perfect. Holding on to anger only hurts me. I am learning to forgive and move on. I’ve spent the last few months turning pages and starting a new chapter.

I’m about to embark on a new journey and I am closing another chapter of my life. Just as I have always brought you all along, I will do so again. I have been presented with an AMAZING opportunity and it literally fell into my lap through a connection I had made over the past year or so. I’ve been asked to come to California and be a foreman of a small ranch. There will be rescued mustangs to take care of and rehabilitate. There will be rescued dogs in a kennel to take care of and do some training and socializing. I have been told that I’ll be in charge of most everything that pertains to the property, including doing some planting of small-scale crops, fruit trees and so forth.

I cannot tell you how excited I am about this opportunity because it will give me the ability to help others a little more now. I will also not be living in my RV. I’ll have an apartment on the property that will become my home and I truly don’t take that for granted. I have not lived in a “home” with actual electricity and running water in almost three years. I’m grateful and so ready to get this new adventure started. The “boss” knows that I write and told me that I’ll have the use of a vehicle and that I’m more than welcome to venture into the city and work on my book connections and do signings. I won’t be too far from San Francisco and Oakland, so I hope to get there and meet and greet some of you who are around.

The old RV will stay parked here, in Illinois and I plan on coming back every 12-18 months to see Mike, Sheila and the kids, as well as all my other friends from childhood that still live here. I’ve kept a low profile this time because I’m really coming off a couple of tough years and I honestly needed some alone time to put the pieces of me back together again. I apologize to some of you that I didn’t get a chance to see or didn’t stop on the way by. Please, don’t take it personally. When I say that I’ve become reclusive it is an understatement. I’m slowly coming back out of my shell. I just don’t work like everyone else and I need time alone to heal. I’m getting there. Thanks for understanding. I even took almost five weeks away from blogging or doing any writing at all, just so I could get quiet in my head and think.

I want to thank my friend Sheila for making this a grand summer. I’ve helped Mike with his cows a little, helped pick some corn here and there, gone camping for 11 days with her and the four kids, been hiking, shopping and got a LOT of work done around here! It’s been very memorable and meaningful to me. I know who my family truly is.

Speaking of family…I did reconnect with an aunt and uncle. Only living relatives I’ve spoken to in about 15 years, so that is good. Hopefully, I’ll have dinner with them before I blow town. To all of you, thanks for indulging me, thanks for your input, your emails and comments and for being the catalyst that helps me to keep going. I truly appreciate every single one of you who read my blogs, buy my books and follow me on Facebook.

On to the next chapter…

Categories: life lessons, love | Tags: , , , , | 6 Comments

Is Transitioning Becoming Too Easy?

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I realize that this may be a touchy subject, so I’m going to make it clear right away that I mean no disrespect to anyone.  It isn’t really my style to purposely hurt anyone or to judge anyone. My intention right now is to delve into a topic of discussion that I’ve had recently with a few people close to me.

As a butch woman, I have to deal with a great deal of prejudice from a lot of people. The direction from which this prejudice comes is sometimes astonishing to me. Other lesbians who are more of a feminine persuasion and are attracted to the same type of feminine woman have a tendency to talk to me like I’m dirt sometimes. They do not understand me and often go out of their way to say things like, “you are just trying to be a man” or “if I wanted to be with a man, I’d choose a man” and so on and so on. I’m not going to get into all the things that being butch means, but it certainly does not mean that I want to be a man. I consider myself to be a combination of masculine and feminine energy that compliment each other in ways that bless me in my life. I feel that I’m lucky to be me.

I’ve grown to believe that sexuality is a very fluid thing.  I believe that we are all capable of loving men or women, regardless of who we are. We may never act on it, but I honestly believe that many people would if they hadn’t already been taught by society that it is somehow “wrong” to do so. I also believe that this early programming has seriously affected lesbians in many ways. Sexuality simply cannot be placed into a box of choice.

I believe that many years ago, lesbians thought that they had to give-up their femininity in order to be gay. It was almost expected that women act more masculine in those days because they were a lesbian; society had a vision of what a lesbian was and that was anything but feminine. Many women felt they had to give-up dreams of having children or families in order to live up to some sort of ideal. Only in the last twenty to thirty years are we realizing that we don’t have to choose one or the other. We can be lesbians and be parents. We can paint our nails, wear heels or we can wear jeans and a ball cap. We truly can have it all.

As we (lesbians) have evolved, there seems to have become some sort of a split with many sub-groups. There are now so many labels that I personally cannot keep up with them and I certainly imagine that heterosexuals are confused as well. Being butch, I’m noticing that more and more butch women are gravitating towards transitioning from female to male in larger numbers than ever. I notice that there is a rise in interest in binding, top surgery and a desire to even mimic male behavior patterns more so than ever before. I’m a little puzzled by this because I’ve always been proud to be lesbian and even more proud to be butch. I’ve always felt that I was better than men because I could embrace the masculine while having the brains to know better behavior. I am comfortable with my masculine nature but I am also very comfortable to be a woman underneath it all. I embrace my softer side; the part of me that enjoys cuddling and having a good cry from time to time. I feel that I have managed to take the best of both worlds – male and female – and make them uniquely my own. I believe in respecting women, holding the door for them, getting the chair for them and holding them in only the way a butch woman can. I also believe that it’s okay for me to cry, be soft and enjoy putting my head on someone’s shoulder sometimes and showing my vulnerability. This makes me feel whole.

My concern is that because transitioning is so easy to do now (and so common) that it may just be too easy. Just like Botox and boob jobs, people now think nothing of taking “T” and growing a beard. Honestly, I’m concerned that someone in their twenties is not fully equipped to make this decision. Before some of you get your boxers in a bunch and tell me that the difference is that you see yourself as a guy in the mirror, let me cut you off and tell you that there was a time that I did too.

You see, when I was much younger I considered whether or not that the choice to transition would be right for me. I didn’t take it lightly and I went through a phase where I probably had “penis envy” in a way. I used to think that I was in the wrong body but not because I truly felt that way on my own – society was making me feel that way. I am saying that I was slowly conditioned to look at myself the way others did…I had short hair and I had big hands and feet. People assumed I was a man and still do. I’m often called “sir” out in public. The fact is that it doesn’t bother me. I am secretly pleased to know I am a female underneath it all. By the time I was in my thirties I had come to a point where I learned to like myself exactly as I was.

I think all human beings go through this phase, but because it has become so popular to blame our sexuality for unhappiness, many butch lesbians think that transitioning will make them happy or whole. I’m not entirely convinced that this is the case for most. That said, there are people who honestly do need to transition in order to live a whole life;  they are truly mentally the opposite sex. I’m not disavowing anyone here. I just wonder if it has gotten too easy, like taking Xanax instead learning to deal with your life? Has transitioning become the latest plastic surgery fad and is it being done because doctors see it as a way to make a lot of money? Are we making it too “cool” to do?

I worry that fewer and fewer women live as butch because they don’t see that as a viable option anymore. Pressure from society and from those we might hear referred to as “lipstick lesbians” make us feel unwanted by our own community at times. Is this what makes us feel that the only option is to conform to what the world thinks we should be? I wonder where are the proud butch women now? It seems they are being replaced by a younger generations of “bois” and female to males in transition. I’m concerned if this is because we are placing too much pressure on young butches, making them feel that they need to be something other than what they are. I’d love to hear comments from others on this.

Again, I stress that I am not in any way trying to talk bad about those who choose to transition. I’ve always been very supportive and have friends who are in transition and are fully transitioned. I just feel that this is a valid argument that needs to be discussed and I wonder if we need to be having this discussion more openly rather than just automatically telling our friends to go ahead and transition?

A friend of mine has a friend who is in the hospital right now, possibly dying from an infection that is the result of a compromised immune system – a side effect of transition and hormone replacement therapy. This happens in some cases, as well as other medical complications. There are also many other things to consider, such as never being able to afford bottom surgery – which is also not perfected yet. Someone may start the transition and never fully complete it for many reasons. Personally, I could not handle being in this sort of sexual limbo or giving up sexual satisfaction…which is the case most of the time. I’d really like to hear the opinions of my readers on this. Please, keep it respectful as people from all walks of life read this blog. Thanks!

Categories: equal rights, gay lesbian, lesbian | Tags: , , , , | 30 Comments

Tell Me What You Want To Hear

 

Original Art by Julia Miller Title of piece, "Winter Love" Clicking image takes you to her page.

Original Art by Julia Miller Title of piece, “Winter Love” Clicking image takes you to her page.

 

Three years ago, we met online; introduced by a mutual friend. You were married and I didn’t talk to you with any intention of being anything more than just your friend. We hit it right off and talked and talked. You, being much younger than me, often made references to things I didn’t understand and I’d have to ask you to explain. Conversely, you’d chide me for using a ‘big word’ and I’d chuckle at you. There’s something about you that is whimsical, silly and so very adorable that it’s hard not to be taken in. You are a delightful person; somehow innocent and yet so exposed to some of the worst parts of life. You started to make my heart smile.

We saw each other several times over that summer. You came to my house first. We watched a movie, had pizza and just talked. You would later inform me that you were extremely confused and went home to tell your sister that, “she didn’t even try to touch me.” That’s true. I was still thinking things over. By the time I had thought it over and decided how I felt, I was already neck deep. I found myself checking in on you, trying to make sure you knew that I was there and I would be your out. A few times, I came to your rescue… like the night you cried on my shoulder and confessed your secrets to. Then there was the time you called me in the middle of the night and I jumped up and came to your rescue. You were scared and I was the only one you could turn to. You slept on top of me that night, on the sofa. You refused to move, to sleep in the bed or let me move – you clung to me with white fingers. I just held you.

It was still a few weeks before I would get the nerve to kiss you. It wasn’t that I was afraid of you. I was afraid of me. I was afraid of the way it felt and all the mess it meant. You still were married and you weren’t leaving. One day you were, the next day you weren’t. I didn’t understand everything and I surely didn’t know just how bad things were. I’m sorry. I walked away and you would later tell me, “you just walked away….and things got much worse for me after you left.”

Two years later you found me. I had changed my name, moved five states away and was going through my own hell at the time… and you found me. You told me, “I never really let you go … but you left. You ran. Not just to another city. You went half the country away. What’s up with that?” All I could do was laugh. You may be young, but you are wise and when you are right – you’re right. I’ll hand that one to you.

So we talked and talked. I made plans to come back and see you. After I got back, you dropped the bombshell on me that your ex was still involved in your life and that you couldn’t get away to see me. You didn’t want to rock the boat, cause troubles, risk more of the same abuse, etc. I admit that I finally blew my cool. I admit that I didn’t have much patience and that I take some of the things you’ve done too personally. Standing outside of it, I know that it was less about me and more about you and what you had to do. I won’t change my statement to you that it “just hurt” and it really did. I walked again. I would have been here if you needed me, but you never needed anyone. Stubborn. I know…pot calling the kettle black.

A few months passed this time. You contacted me to see if I’d calmed down any. I blew my stack. Yeah…no…not calmed down yet. You backed away again. You didn’t wait months this time. A few weeks passed and you reached out once more and asked if I was ready to talk. You said that you thought we could talk and work this all out. I was still angry. One of my best friends finally said to me, “You know…she keeps trying. She must really care about you? It really is very easy to take things out of context when you are strictly texting and emailing…and that’s all you guys could do at the time. Maybe you should give her the benefit of the doubt? I mean…she isn’t waiting two years this time?”

What could I say to that? It was true. I’ve thought about things a lot. I’ve had about five months to think about this. Sometimes we just have to make a decision. I’ve spent most of my life sitting on a fence post, observing both sides of the fence and never committing to anything fully. Oh…I’ve told you that I loved you…but there is so much more to it. So what do you want to hear?

Maybe I should tell you that for all my talk about going here and going there, it would only take one word from you to change all my plans – “stay.”

Maybe I should tell you that for all the times I’ve told anyone I loved them, I never stuck around for anybody. Ask any of them…they’ll all tell you that I left and I didn’t come back. You’re the only one who got that from me. I came back for you. I’ve been waiting for you to choose me. Do you need to hear me ask? Can we ever get past first base?

Should I tell you that every dream you ever told me about made me want to be right there with you? Do you need me to tell you that you move me to tears over and over because I feel you on a level that I don’t ever let anyone else into?Honey, I’d raise your babies. I’d feed your horses and I’d stay for the rest of my forever if you’d just decide that I was the one you wanted once and for all, end of story. Stop the confusion. I can’t commit myself to a moving target. Stop chasing me and then running. If you want me, I’m right here and I’ve been right here this whole time. I’m not getting any younger. Haven’t we wasted enough time? What do you want to hear?

Categories: lesbian, life lessons, love | Tags: , , | 3 Comments

New Humanitarian Blog

To all my loyal readers and fans, I’m pleased to announce that I am also blogging at another site right now. Butch Ramblings is and always will be the place that I connect with people and share my innermost feelings about living in the world as the person I am. Have no fear, it isn’t going anywhere.

That said, I’ve decided to start a more newsworthy site for things that touch the world and the people who live in it, from all walks of life. This blog will be about social/political/economic issues both here and abroad. Please, check it out at http://thehumanitarianblog.blogspot.com .

I don’t have a donation button up yet, but please keep in mind that the advertising on the blog is the only help I get financially. There is a lot of research going into those blogs, as I am sure that you will see. There are posts already scheduled for each day this week, thru Friday. I hope that you will take the time to check it out and possibly even subscribe!

Categories: Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Everybody Look! What’s Going Down??

My day started-off having some fun with a fella who thinks he knows everything. Let’s put this into perspective for you…let me set the scene, so to speak. A couple of days ago, I posted a link for a book I was giving away free for a few days. Other Amazon authors can back me on this and I’m sure they will. When you publish a book on Amazon, you get five days each quarter that you may give this book away for free on their site. Does this put any money in your pocket? No!

Some people argue that it improves your book’s ranking…and it may…but only for a couple of days. The biggest thing that we get out of it is the exposure to new people who may not otherwise read our books. That is it; nothing else to be gained and certainly nothing financially. Sometimes, I’ll see a short increase in sales of my other books. That just tells me that they enjoyed my book and may like to try another. Great…but I’m still not getting rich by selling a few more books in comparison to the loss you take in the books you give away. I have away 192 copies of this book, this time. That is about 400 copies of that book alone, this year.

So…this fella comments on the link, “so in other words..you want the cash.” Now, I rarely use the word stupid…but I think it! After a few comments back and forth, I let him know that I’m really just trying to get the book in the hands of suicidal people or people who KNOW suicidal people. It comes out the he is an accountant. Wow…really? You are an accountant and couldn’t figure out that FREE equated to $0 and that 192 multiplied by $0 is …ummm ZERO? I imagine that he is online so much because business is slow?

The fact is that I don’t care what this guy thinks of me. I am not concerned with the people who do not care about the things going on in the world. I am not going to waste my time trying to change a shallow mind. What I am seeking are those who have an open mind. Are you troubled with the world the way it is? Do you question your own existence and your purpose? Do you want to know what the meaning behind your life is or why you are constantly besieged by challenges that seem completely overwhelming? Do you question pain? Do you feel like giving up but just know that there is a reason that you don’t – even when you can’t explain it? YOU are the person I am reaching out to!

We cannot change everything over night, but we can make a difference. It takes one step at a time and the first BIG step is to realize that we are all connected. You are a miracle. Look at yourself in the mirror. Your body completely replaces every SINGLE cell every three years. Your skin is completely replaced every few weeks. At the very molecular core of your being, you are unique and you are a miracle. Everything had to happen in completely unique and random order so that you were conceived to begin with. Do you have any idea HOW MANY random things had to happen just for you to be conceived? To be who you are? Your entire life is a movie that plays out with multiple plot twists, all based on the decisions that you make and the roll of the dice. You spend your entire life being prepared for your destiny!! I do not care who you are or how bad things have gotten … you my friend, are amazing and you deserve to be here.

It is said that when you remain quiet, that you take the side of the oppressor in any situation. I used to be silent. It wasn’t until I found my voice that I began to feel free. The more I told people about my own situations, the easier it became to accept and sort through those things in my life. I realize that I’m lucky. I realize that I am the end result of a billion different possibilities that ‘could have been.’ You are no longer a “could have” you have become a “you are” and the sooner you realize that, the sooner you will realize your own potential.

What do you choose to do with this knowledge? This is truly a personal decision and I don’t knock what anyone chooses. I WILL say that when you have the opportunity to touch others and you choose not to, I feel it is a sad waste. That’s my personal feeling and has become my personal decision. That isn’t a judgment at all, so please do not see it that way. It’s just that there is so much beauty to be gained in reaching out to others. I refer to humility all the time. I think when we have learned true humility, that we become more selfless. I don’t see it as a bad place to be. That’s my personal take. Yours may be different and so be it. You won’t hear my messages or my voice.

I’ve committed myself to a few causes and they all are about human interests. One of my pet projects is the “Shadows In Your Face” project. I’ve decided to take the next year doing research, filming and even staying in shelters and even a few nights actually on the street. I will be doing my best to expose the way that the homeless are treated like cattle, herded into facilities out of view and how they are often pushed out of the way and not really helped by the very organizations that claim to be helping. City governments work to appease the wealthy by ‘getting them out of view’ and shuffling them to other cities and locations off the beaten path, where they are often forgotten. The system isn’t designed to help these people and their civil rights are often tromped on, while they are treated as a problem and not treated as people.

This video was shot with my cell phone, in the dark – so it’s not fantastic quality. This is just a glimpse of the world that is there in front of your face. There are MANY people living in parking lots in their campers. Many more of them are sleeping the cars that you see parked here and there, in between the campers. It’s a whole ‘underworld’ of people who have been hit hard by the economy.

It is important for me to point out that when the documentary is made for sale to the public, that every penny will go to aid the homeless in some way, whether with clothing, food, shelter or much needed medication. I hope to make a difference, even if it is just for a few people. To me, this will make the entire year worth it. I’m not doing this for myself in any way at all. I’m doing this to put the issue – the people who live in the shadows – right in your face. For the last year, I’ve met many homeless people and I’ve done my best to pass on their stories here. Now, for one year, I will make it my focus. I’m attempting to raise money right now, for the things that I’ll need to make this happen. I need cameras, some editing software and a little money to cover the few expenses that will surely arise. I’ve set the goal at $10k but I know this is lofty. I plan to go forward with the project no matter how much I raise and I do have other fundraiser in the works.

I am seeking fiscal sponsorship to help control the funds of the money from the project. I’ll be picky, but hope to find a non-profit that will help me handle the funds in a way that sees to it that the money is spent in the best ways possible and ensure that 100% of the funds go to the people who need them and not to administration costs.

I’m asking that you take a look at the project and try to see the potential good that could come from it. If you have anything to offer at all…used equipment, assistance in spreading the message, connections with other homeless person projects, etc…get in touch with me. Maybe you are someone who just has time and can help to spread the word somehow? I’m open to all suggestions. One way or the other, this project IS going to happen and I will not be deterred.

Categories: American government, equal rights, Homeless people, life lessons, love, Politics | Tags: , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Shadows In Your Face

 

Far too old to be living like this, but don't tell him that. He's happy. He sleeps in his truck in parking lots all over North Florida.

Far too old to be living like this, but don’t tell him that. He’s happy. He sleeps in his truck in parking lots all over North Florida.

 

Many of you have followed my excursions for a good year now. You know that I try to keep things as real as possible. I’ve shown you all some of the good things about life and some of the things that truly stink sometimes too. In the end, I’ve always tried to keep my messages positive. I do believe that life is what you make of it.

That said, when I went through my horrible year last year, I was reminded of how much we all depend on each other and how hard like can be. I felt that God himself had spoken to me and I came to an immediate realization – an epiphany – that I’d wasted a great deal of time that I hadn’t put to good use. I made a promise to myself and to the Universe that I was going to work harder to help others. My purpose is now to do what I can to help others and speak for those who have no voice of their own.

I’d like to tell you about my latest project. This is in alignment with my goals and my passions. I’ve decided to put my author skills to work on a project of almost epic proportions. I’m going to re-enter my life as a homeless person, in order to tell the story from their point of view. How can you tell someone about being hungry if you have never truly been hungry? How can you describe the fear of having no roof over your head if you have never known this fear yourself?

Not only am I going to do a book, but also a documentary while I am living in the life. When I am finished, there will be a book, a documentary and a photo book complete. ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE DOCUMENTARY AND BOOK WILL GO TO THE HOMELESS. The money will go to organizations that help to feed, clothe and provide medication to those who are homeless. I will be very selective over who gets funds; making sure that 100% of the money goes to the people that it is meant for. If not, then I shall set-up a separate charity entirely for this purpose.

I’m currently working on some products for sale to help raise money for the documentary. I’ll be opening a Cafe Press store to the public in a few days. I’m working on product designs at the moment. I have an IndieGoGo campaign set-up to take donations at the above link. I implore you to consider helping this project come to fruition. Not only will it bring to light some of the issues happening with the homeless community, but it will also help to set in place some programs that can offer more assistance to these people. Too many are falling through the cracks because they can’t qualify for help. Some can’t even seek traditional help because of mental issues that prevent them from even trying, much less even being aware that there is help available for them.

Today, I simply ask you to take a look at the campaign page and to do one of two things: 1)Donate if you can or 2) pass it along to others who may be able to help.

Thanks for your time and, as always, thanks for reading!

 

DONATE HERE

Categories: equal rights, life lessons, love, Politics, self-help | Tags: , , | 7 Comments

Lost And Found – Getting Home

 

This is the type of thing I love to write – part of this is based in fact, but told like fiction. Emotions dictate, music added to set the mood for you to match what I was feeling as I wrote … and in the end – a message. I hope that you enjoy! Take the time to listen to the music and let the messages sink in.  ~ Jesse

 

A wall paper

 

 

 

 

I Keep Holding On

I was awakened by the smell of ocean air and the sound of waves softly rolling up onto the beach. The breeze blowing through the screen of my camper was cool as I snuggled down further into my comforter and pillows, not quite ready to give up on my cozy slumber. My mind began to drift as it always does in the early morning hours; half in and half out of sleep. I thought about the day ahead and what I would do with the hours. So much time on my hands left me with constantly seeking something to keep myself busy. Boredom truly can become exhausting.

I began thinking about my last conversation with Raleigh. She truly left me puzzled sometimes. Raleigh was that sort of woman who would tell you to not try to fix her problems; she just wanted me to listen. She would clearly tell me that she had boundaries. This wasn’t what puzzled me – I was glad to have a forthright person in my life who wasn’t afraid to talk about anything. What left me confused was the way that she would jump in, whenever I was trying to vent about something, and start offering suggestions and tell me what I should do. I sighed out loud and thought to myself that it was probably my own fault for not setting my own boundaries. I decided that day that the next time we talked, I’d address this issue and the way I felt about it.

As I swung my feet out of bed, I made my mind up that the next time we talked, I was going to have to tell her how this was making me feel. I didn’t like feeling like I wasn’t allowed to share my feelings about something without being chided for being negative. I knew I was not typically a negative person, but felt that everyone deserved to feel down sometimes and should be able to share that with someone they they trust. Getting told what to do and told not to react the way I did, just made me feel like I had to close part of myself off…and I hated that feeling. It didn’t feel safe. I spent a lot of time being “up” for other people…fans, friends and sometimes suicidal people that I volunteered to help listen to and encourage to get proper help. I felt like I had to maintain for them all…but in private, I needed to feel safe to be able to just “be” however I felt. I shook my head because it made me feel sad. I had to get the thoughts out of my head and I decided that a walk on the beach was in order.

I stumbled past the galley and into the tiny bathroom to relieve my bladder before making my way back to the coffee maker and starting the morning brew. As it slowly dripped and steamed, the coffee began to emerge in the pot. I put creamer in my big plastic coffee mug and then went to go put on some board shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. As I was slipping on my flip-flops, the coffee maker groaned and gasped for air as it gave birth to the last few drops of caffeine that would start my day out perfectly. I poured my cup of coffee into the large mug and walked out into the world.

The campground was beginning to stir with evidence of life. I could smell someone’s breakfast cooking on an outdoor grill. I saw another family stowing gear and rolling their hose and electrical cord. They were just passing through; probably on their way to some attraction or theme park.

My flip-flops tossed the sand into the breeze and I could feel it on my shins as I made my way to the beach, only a short walk away. The closer I came to the water’s edge, the finer the sand became and eventually my toes were baptized by the cold water creeping onto the shore. It only took a moment for my feet to grow accustomed to the cool water and it began to feel so good that I slipped my flops off and tied them to the string hanging from my waistband so that I could walk with free hands. Why is that as soon as your toes hit cold water, you feel like you need to pee?

My toes sunk into the cool, wet sand as I enjoyed the walk. Every so often I would feel a hard shell and stop to take a closer look at it. While I rarely picked them up, I was always on the look-out for the perfect shell. Sometimes I would come across a clam but never had the heart to remove them from their environment and eat them. Typically, I tossed them out into deeper water to ‘rescue’ them from other clam hunters. I hadn’t killed a spider in years. I’m not sure I honestly have a mean bone in my body, though I was able to show my Scottish temper from time to time. I knew I could get testy about some things … especially when it felt like I was being judged or told that I was living my life “wrong.”

To be perfectly honest, I’d never gotten over the dominant rule of a mother who was abusive, ill-tempered, quick with a fist and even more vicious with her tongue. It took me so many years to believe that I was capable of anything at all, that anyone even questioning me immediately put me on the defense. I was aware that it was an issue … but not really sure how to fix it. I didn’t like being that way. Raleigh said that it often took an equal number of years to get over the amount of time you were in a bad situation. My mother was a dark spot in my world for almost thirty years. I sighed deeply and become aware that my forehead was creased and my eyebrows were furrowed. I brought myself to the present moment and consciously relaxed. Still, I knew that ‘just letting go’ wasn’t so easily done in this case. I walked on.

Closer To Fine

By the time I had returned to the camper, the sun was getting high in the sky. I had no idea what time it was because I’d almost completely stopped wearing a watch. For so many years, wearing a watch had been an anal part of my personality. From years of working in fields that required I manage others and know what time to start projects, I had always worn a watch. Knowing what time it was had become an obsession; almost compulsive. After becoming a writer and deciding that I’d live by my own rules, even if that meant going without a lot of things sometimes, I also gave up caring about the time. Recently, I’d become so carefree about it that I often forgot what day it was and holidays came upon me with complete surprise. Every day of my life was a holiday in so many ways now.

While it was true that I really had little money and couldn’t afford the finer things in life, I was predominantly happy now. It was a little unsettling to me that I had become so reclusive, but there was no drama that way. I avoided drama and stress almost as passionately as I wrote. Sometimes it bothered me that I may just be avoiding a natural part of life, instead of learning how to just deal with it in a healthy way. I considered that perhaps I was just ‘taking a break from it all’ and that was okay … but how was I going to re-emerge? When would I know the time was right?

Raleigh and I had seen a lot of each over the summer. There was a relationship between us that was deeply rooted in friendship. It was more than a friendship …  but then it wasn’t. There was really no description that fit. We had both reached places in our lives where we resisted being labeled, placed into boxes or having expectations placed upon us. Neither of us did well with that sort of thing. We never talked about how we felt about each other, it was just the way it was and we accepted it the way that you accept the breeze upon your face … it is welcomed but understood that even the best of breezes don’t last forever and one cannot fully depend on a good breeze being there for you all the time. This was how I thought of her. She was a gentle breeze at times, that made my life a happy place. There were times that she was a hurricane force wind that made me uncomfortable or knocked me off my feet, but I still relished the adrenaline rush that came from it. Other times … there was no breeze at all and I knew that she was still out there and patiently awaited her return. It was free, as all things should be. I respected it as something that was not to be controlled or always understood. It was imperfect, in all the most beautiful ways that something, or someone, can be – it was, in fact, perfect.

Who Says You Can’t Go Home?

 

I poured another cup of coffee and sat down in front of my computer. As I pushed the button that would connect me to the world beyond, I was still pondering how I’d come to be where I was. Home is something that I’d sought for most of the last twenty years of my life and it had only been in the last year of my life that I’d come to realize that home is inside of me.  I’d been getting ‘my house’ in order now for a few months and it hadn’t been easy – once your shit falls so far apart, it takes a while to go through all the pieces and figure it out. What I was coming to realize was that I’d been running away from so much, for so long, that finding my way back to the beginning was like following a trail of tears that had long since dried-up. I got lost sometimes.

Raleigh had confronted me about spending so much time in my home town earlier that year. Apparently, I’d been sounding pretty negative about the place over the phone and she didn’t understand what it was I’d been seeking. I supposed that she’d known me well enough to know there was a reason? At that time, until thinking it over, I hadn’t been sure either. It was just a gut feeling I’d had. Visiting my hometown was something that I had always been compelled to do, but it was less about the present and more about reclaiming my past. That was the place I had been abused, traumatized and belittled behind closed doors. It was a place that I should have felt safe … but I never did. It was a source of angry energy that I had been drawn to, like a moth to a flame. I’d either burn alive or the flame would be extinguished. That had been my resolve.

As an adult, I was able to stare at the house I grew up in and reclaim some happy memories. I had made a journal, with a list of all the bad things I remembered. Back in Florida now, I intended to burn those memories to ashes in a can, take them to the cemetery my parents were buried in and spread them over their graves. With this ritual, I also meant to forgive them once and for all. I knew that when I did this, I’d never return to their graves again. I was cutting the cord and releasing the Karmic debt. I would be absolving myself of the past and freeing myself to move on – burning the symbolic bridges and breaking the invisible chains.

For some people, I supposed this could be seen as walking away from the past and therefore just running again. I imagined that some people may view my way of dealing with it to be very extreme. I didn’t really care. For me, it had become a trip towards something – a return of my soul to self. This had been my way of ‘going home’ and finding my way back to who I was when I was not burdened with the memories. Who says you can’t go home? Don’t question the trip, question where home really is!

For now, life was coming back together. I used my walks along the beach to call my energy back to me. Every ounce of energy that I had freely given to others for so many years, I was now calling back to me. I stopped to look at shells on the beach and I savored every breath that I took, knowing that it could potentially be a last breath at any time. My house was getting in order and though I had no idea where tomorrow would lead me, I was happier than I had ever been; I was home.

 

If you enjoy the writing, please consider purchasing a book. Everything I earn from my writing allows me to have the time to publish this blog and write more books. Remember that independent authors are also artists and our work is how we earn a living. Thanks for coming by to visit!

Amazon Author Central Profile

 

Categories: abuse, child abuse, death, Free Books, life lessons, love, self-help | Tags: , , , | 7 Comments

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