After all this time practicing presence,
all this work appreciating possibility,
all this meditation on realizing my potential,
I recognize that I’m just as attached
to my carefully crated reality
as everyone else.
When faced with the loss of everything familiar,
I can’t help but panic, mourn, grieve.
It’s humbling to admit
after saying so many times
I wanted my life to change
that now all I am I doing is
craving the routine.
Sometimes there just isn’t any inspiration.
And that’s okay.
Really, dude? Trolling my blog? Really?
Why didn’t you care to read my words before?
Like when you said you loved me,
like when we shared a bed
and shared meals
and days and years together?
All those years of putting my writing down,
minimizing my need for self-expression,
and NOW you are interested?
Go ahead then. I’m flattered.
You cannot shame me anymore.
Your tactics will not work.
When you left
I was devastated…
and I fell down, down, down.
I fell all the way down to the bottom,
and now I’m building up.
Breath by breath,
step by step,
day by day,
I’m getting stronger
and closer to discovering the real me.
Your blustery words cannot harm me.
Your storms and threats,
all that hot air cannot shake me—
my foundation built on rock
At some point,
the sands you’ve built on will shift.
The slights of hand,
everything you’ve used
to portray yourself
as something you are not
will fall away
and the truth will be revealed.
At that point I’ll lend you
my pick and my shovel,
’cause son, if you want a firm foundation like mine,
you’ve got some digging to do.
I apologize for the tone of my last poem.
Actually, I don’t.
I have raging PMS
and the veil between 3D reality
and the spirit world is thinner
and everything I have been suppressing
in my act to be nice and please everyone
is now coming up of its own volition.
So really, I have no control over it.
And so, if you don’t like it,
you know exactly what you can do.
Are you he,
the one who procreated with me
and then left,
blaming me for everything?
Or are you one of his minions,
currying favor with him,
by feeding the thought
that I’m the crazy one?
don’t you have anything better to do,
than to scour the internet
looking for proof
that his lies about me are true?
I am a woman
making my way back on my feet
after a devastating loss.
Are you his new victim?
Do you believe the story that he loves you?
He told me he loved me once.
But when all was said and done,
it was easier to blame me for his pain
than to man up and work on himself.
You can troll all you want.
He can say that I am “whining” online.
But I will not stop speaking my truth.
And someday you might discover
that the things you criticize in me
are the disowned places in you
crying out for your loving attention.
When you feel ready to access those places,
you’ll stop pointing your finger at others
and go in the only real direction
that you haven’t yet explored…
Yesterday in a text message my ex-husband accused me of “whining online.” If you look at my post yesterday, you’ll see I talked about some challenges I’m currently going through: his underpayment of court-ordered support and the subsequent need to take legal action, as well as my need to secure new health insurance. Admittedly I was a bit startled when he referenced my online activity—choosing words that confirmed he had read my post—because it got me thinking that he or someone else is trolling this blog, stirring up adversity and feeding the story that there is something wrong with me. I speak this out into space, because I’m discovering more and more that abuse and shame can’t exist out in the open. Our secrets make us sick, and I won’t keep it a secret that the man I once loved is deciding to take liberties with the agreement he signed his name on, and justifying withholding funds from court-ordered support for me and his children with his twisted logic. I speak this out in the open, because unfortunately, underpayment or no payment of child support is the norm in our society, and those who have a legal responsibility to provide support to their children and former partners somehow manage to dodge the law and dodge the consequences that the law would mete out if they were caught in a timely fashion. I speak this out because I want this trend to change. I realize that if it has been this awful for me—coming from relative privilege (education, resources, community, job)—how must it be for the population of underprivileged single moms out there who don’t have access to the same resources? Finally, my words are my power. By speaking my truth I know who I am. I will not back down. I plan on fighting a good fight, for myself and all moms everywhere who struggle to know what their future will hold in a time of such volatility and uncertainty.
And to you trolls out there, whether you are he himself, or his new intimate victim, or one of his “friends,” keep reading. Enjoy my posts. Have fun. May you be safe, happy, healthy, peaceful and at ease. And may the pure light of awareness shine upon you and lead you to the realization that what you do to another you do to yourself, so that you can begin helping instead of continuing to hurt. When you feed a story like this, it helps no one. I stand with my hand stretched out in friendship, and you can take it at any time. The choice is yours.
I was waiting for an apology from him,
an expression of guilt and remorse;
it hasn’t come yet,
and it probably never will.
I was waiting for him to do the right thing,
to acknowledge his role,
to make things right,
but it sure doesn’t look that this will happen either.
I was hoping he’d awaken,
hoping he’d zoom out and look in
and see how his behavior
has been egregiously unfair—
he hasn’t awakened, and my hope
is turning to hopelessness.
The moral is,
focusing on the other
and hoping they will change
(when they don’t want to and aren’t capable)
will only lead to sadness, frustration and despair.
I’ve decided that I’m not going to wait anymore.
I’m going to move forward in autonomy,
thanking him for my freedom.
The responsibility of privilege is absolute integrity.