It Takes a Village People… like it or not.

There is a saying that goes “It takes a village to raise a child.” There is a reason this saying exists. When life was much more simple and humans were more interested in other people rather than a damn phone, tablet or a TV, people looked out for each other. When a woman bore a child, the village women would help her. They would cook for her, help clean her home and help teach her how to raise that child. The entire village was invested in the well-being of the young which had been brought into the world. As the babe grew, neighbors would continue to help. Families helped to raise each others children. Families were large and often required more than just two people to handle it all.

Children were put to work fairly early even with school duties because farms needed tending to, logs needed split, animals needed fed. There wasn’t an enormous amount of free time for a child to sit around and dawdle. Now I’m not saying no one got in trouble, I’m just saying it gave them less time to get into trouble. Men worked outside the home and the females took care of the home. This came with its own set of issues because women weren’t always valued for the true blessings they were to a family. However, if a female was mistreated, often times other men of the village would step in and handle business. Just be patient with me, I’m getting to the point.

As a society, humans eventually started to not like other people butting into their business so they moved to other cities where no one would know who they were. Technology came along like electricity, phones and other modern conveniences. Women learned they could have less children. It became easier to move away from your support group.

If the village has dissipated, who helps the single mom of 3 children care for those children, work a full-time job outside the home, feed those children and make sure they have clothes and all of their necessities? You are now left with a stressed out mother who just wants a moments peace. Rather than her finding that moments peace, it exasperates her situation and she becomes more mentally agitated than she needs to be. Who suffers? EVERYONE SUFFERS. The mom suffers, the children suffer… it’s a no win situation, unless you can afford a Nanny and trust me, that ain’t the norm.

When does society finally decide to actually start caring about other people and helping out those families who are in distress? No one is saying you need to hand over thousands of dollars to someone, but if you see a person struggling, give them a hand. If you see a stressed out child, ask the parent is there anything you can do to lend a hand. BE THE CHANGE WE NEED TO SEE IN THE WORLD. Don’t be a fucking ostrich and bury your head and pretend it’ll all go away.

Hunger is here in the United States. We keep sending money to other countries. FEED US. FEED YOUR LOCAL CHILDREN. Do you not think the parents of hungry children are stressed out? It leads to physical abuse, mental abuse and so much more. If my mom’s parents hadn’t owned a farm, I truly don’t know how I would have eaten as a child. The majority of our food came from that farm and we worked for it. Snapped beans, shucked corn, dug potatoes. I swear that root cellar with the potatoes used to make me puke it stunk so bad. However, I am grateful it existed because it fed me.

I keep money in my car so when I see someone on the street with a sign asking for money, I have money to give. I used to be so judgmental and think “Oh you just want it for drugs.” As a recovering addict, I fight with my inner self on this. What did I decide? I decided, who the hell am I? Who am I to judge someone else? I am no one. Maybe that $5 I hand over is going to go for drugs, but maybe, just maybe they’re hungry and that $5 just bought them some warm food. Give it FREELY with NO EXPECTATIONS.

America expects. I call bullshit. Learn to love openly and unconditionally. If you are donating, it’s called a donation for reason. You gave it willingly. Your end of the deal is now complete. Walk away proud of yourself and pray that the receiver will do the right thing. You don’t get to decide what their karma should be. Mind your own karma.

I have debated many times if I want to continue to write this blog. I haven’t written anything in about 6 weeks. Sorting through how I feel about my childhood and my early adult life has been difficult for me. I have biological family members who have accused me of being selfish, pointing the finger at everyone but me, being egotistical and the list goes on. I let it deter me for a while because I felt I needed to examine my motive for writing this blog. Was it really to just point fingers at someone else and say “Look at what you did!” Or, did I start writing this blog because I was tired of putting my dirty laundry under the carpet which had become so lumpy, I couldn’t walk on the carpet anymore?

It’s none of those things. I started writing it because I give a shit about other people. I want other women and men to know YOU ARE NOT ALONE. That’s my message, that’s my reason. If my reasoning pisses you off and you want to yell at me, have at it. Perhaps you need to examine your own damn life and figure out why you’re getting so pissed off about what I wrote. Perhaps you have your own behavior to look at.

And so, here I am writing again. And it feels damn good.

The Truly Bad 4-Letter F-word

FEAR! This word to me is far worse than saying, reading or hearing the word fuck. I mean, seriously. Fear can stop you in your tracks. It can alter the course of your path for a minute, a day or a lifetime. Fear can stop you from taking chances which could propel you forward in life. Fear of the unknown can you keep in a stalemate. Fear of a spider? Can make you stop your car in traffic and jump out yelling like a crazy person. (Yes, I do know people who have done this.) Fear of the dark? You refuse to go into a dark basement until every light is on and even then you wonder what’s lurking in the shadows. Why do we do these things ourselves? Humans have a need to feel safe.

When we walk in safety, we are comfortable with life. We may not be happy, but we are comfortable because it’s what we know. We have a routine which we become accustomed to and we know what to expect. The flip side to this is, we also stunt ourselves emotionally within the confines of safety by not allowing ourselves to grow.

I thought I had a fear of writing about my life and the experiences I’ve had. I’ve met so many other women who’ve had similar experiences and when we share stories, I’ve shared with them I’ve always wanted to write about it so others like us would know they were not alone. They’ve all said to me “You should write about it. I’m too afraid to do it.” It’s always easier to be on the sidelines than on the field in your gear ready to take a hit. And to be honest, it wasn’t really the fear of writing we were worried about at all, but the fear of how our biological families would react to WHAT we were going write about. Yes most of the family members already knew the stories, but confronting them with it in black and white is a different story. How well was that going to go over? Not very well. I knew that going in. I am tired of standing on the sidelines. I’m geared up and ready.

I’m making a different choice now to confront my fear and with that choice comes a consequence. I am losing relationships with biological family members. I have exposed the things which we do not speak of. Did I expect this? Yes. ┬áIs it a surprise? Nope, not in the least. Here’s the biggest question: Have these people loved and supported me no matter what my decisions have been my entire life? The biggest answer: No, they loved me as long as I did what they wanted me to do.

This is a huge epiphany for me. So huge it didn’t even occur to me until I was writing this and figured it out. I’ve said and done things my entire life that I didn’t agree with to make others happy so I would feel loved. This is an admission of guilt. I’ve said horrible things about people I truly loved because it made a biological family member happy. That was MY choice. No one forced me to do this. I allowed others opinions to become my own. I was the weak one. I now choose to stand in my truth and it takes strength, but it can also be physically very lonely. However, as I walk down this road I know I am not emotionally alone. I have spirit guides, guardian angels and family I’ve chosen who do love me for exactly who I am. I am no longer responsible for carrying someone else’s shitty pickles. I am standing with my head held high knowing that I made a different choice. I chose peace and happiness. I chose to claim in my responsibility and forgive myself so I can move forward and grow.

Here is my truth. I have been married four times to four different men. I have 4 children with 3 different men. One of those 3 men I wasn’t even married to. How’s that for airing some dirty laundry? I was very embarrassed about this for years. I’m not any longer. I have remorse for the trail of pain I left behind.

First marriage: 4 months beginning to end. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten married. I apologize to you husband #1. I knew it wasn’t right when we got married and I did it anyway. I accept my responsibility for not putting any effort whatsoever into the relationship and for being willing to walk away so easily.

Father of child #1 – I am sorry I lead you on after she was first born and allowed you to believe there would be a relationship because there was a child involved. I really and truly wanted her to be raised with biological father because I hadn’t been raised with mine. I know I hurt you and I apologize.

Second marriage: 8 months living together, 2+ years total on paper in marriage. There will never be enough words in the English language to tell you how deeply sorry I am for hurting you. I loved you the only way I knew how at the age of 20 & 21. It was far less than you deserved.

Third marriage and father of child #2 and #3 – I am sorry for the part my behavior played in our divorce. I could have been a much better wife and that wasn’t fair to you. I gave all of my love and attention to our children instead. I could have made more time to nurture our relationship.

Fourth marriage and father of child #4 – You’re my favorite asshat in the world. I’ve apologized to you for many things over the years. Marrying you, I will never be sorry for that. We have worked extremely hard at keeping our marriage together including living in two different states for 3 years and stage 4 throat cancer. I will be damned if I’m going to allow my human ego or my pride to wreck this one. I love you with a depth in which mere words could never express it appropriately.

To anyone reading this post if you made it this far:

When you feel alone in this world, please know you are not. With each blog post I write, I lose another friend or family member, but I also gain 2 friends who choose to become family. Family is everything to me. I will hold on tight and love you all til my dying breath.

Peace be with you as it is with me.