Tag Archives: vanity

The animal in me

What animals are in my soul according to how I see it… what quirks and personality traits do those animals have that I see in myself?

This is my honest opinion about who I am, in my animalistic side.

My strongest personality I believe is the spirit of the dog or the wolf, which I believe are the same animal really! 

I consider myself very friendly and easily excitable around my favourite people, people I trust and the better I know somebody the more playful I tend to become.  I am also very emotionally insecure and always out to get affection of some kind or another, or give affection and be amongst my pack in general.

I am a pack animal who is outcast as it were, right now – I am without a pack and it is killing me inside, it really is!

I mean it when I say I am excitable around my favourite people!  I exuberate the energy of “oh my goodness, you’re great, you’re this and that, I love you, come here, give a hug, who hurt who?  Let me at them”!  It’s quite funny to see me at times…

Yes I am needy I suppose, no shame in that I guess?

I want to be everyone’s friend but the world seems to fight back against people like me, fiercely it would seem!

I can easily adopt people if they are nice to me, it’s my nature but also like a dog or a wolf I don’t forgive others who bite or bark at me if they’ve been too fierce!  But boy can I be a bitch (pun intended) if you hurt the ones I love and who mean a lot to me!

Like a dog, I can easily feel shame and guilt about the slightest thing, rolling over trying to win back the favour of those I have disappointed if I love them, like some attention seeking hussy!

The other animal I am like is a squirrel – in the right places I tend to have a lot of excess energy and excitement, a bit like a hyperactive dog – but it can be more extreme.  Like a squirrel I love nuts, to eat them but also I like nuts as in people who are considered oddballs of society or Bohemian. 

Like a squirrel I am a bit of an airhead and can forget a lot of things, because I store away knowledge and items all the time and what’s worse, I move them around in case other people borrow them a lot, so sometimes those items can be lost to me… forever… so it would seem!

Also squirrels plant trees, I plant trees too, lots of trees, I like trees.

Give me caffeine or candy or a combination of them both I start talking like a horse racing commentator and speed walk everywhere at high energy for several hours, laughing my head off!

And like a squirrel I can often freak out about things, like the worry wart I am!  When I am stressed or worried, I talk so fast and so high pitched that people just stare at me wide eyed and think rightfully so… “What the fuck”?

Paul has got into the habit of grabbing me by the shoulders after I’ve told him things and then looks at me calmly and says to me…. “Breath, now tell me again… SLOWLY”!

So sometimes I start off again at the same speed and he patiently says “tut tut tut, slowly and focus”… to see us together like this makes you think I am demented or something, but sometimes even I feel I might be at times!

It’s more fun when I have had caffeine and candy and I am worried or have been recently affronted by something… its full steam ahead then, won’t get sense out of me for hours!

An ex of mine had the right idea when I get like that – just snog my brains out and I calm down and become passive almost immediately and then I manage to talk like I have actually got a brain instead of a hamster on a wheel in my head!

Another animal I am like is self-explanatory – rabbits.  You must know me enough by now to know what I am on about here!  The innuendo of what rabbits representation to society is enough for your imagination – but it is also one of the major things which boost my energy!

I am definitely an energiser bunny!

You can also see the rabbit in me when I garden as I often like to kneel on the ground and dig deep holes like I am making a warren… I don’t do it aimlessly, I am not insane!  There is always a purpose for the hole, such as a plant.

I lied.  I am insane, don’t you believe otherwise!

A cow is another animal, I am very nurturing by nature and I tend to graze rather than eat meals, because my body struggles with volume these days, a sandwich is a huge meal to me of late.

If we had the budget my diet would be reminiscent of my grandma’s advice, 7 small meals a day, no bigger than a tea plate (sandwich plate), because volume is an issue!

I remember I thrived when I lived her, it meant of course I seem to constantly eat – but I was thinner for it and I never had stomach ache!

Like the dogs, cows like to go around in herds or packs and I do miss having people in my life.

I miss having a nurturing role, Paul has made my ability as a mother almost obsolete since I’ve become ill, he has taken over everything and there is a huge power struggle for me to become an active mother again with Henry!

I can’t even nurture this family in other ways, such as baking or cooking because of finances but also because Paul has kept the kitchen in a manner that things I need are out of access for me or the kitchen is in such a mess that it takes me three hours of cleaning before I am happy to do anything in there!  It’s not as simple as pop into the kitchen to make a tuna sandwich, because the tuna is in a section of the cupboard I can’t reach because of a mound of boxes in the way and Paul is much taller than I am – I am 5ft 8 and still struggle to get things!

Even on tippy toes I can’t reach the highest shelves of a cupboard and that’s where most of the snacks are stored, so Henry doesn’t binge behind our backs, but it also means I am heavily reliant on Paul to reach them for me as he has forbidden me to use the step ladder, due to my vertigo issues.  I don’t have a fear of height; I have vertigo because of ear damage.  I am fine using them, but he is over protective.

Like a cow, I like to be around children as much as possible and I love to mingle with others in nature.

Another creature I am like is a peacock, though it strongly depends on who I am around.  I am heavily influenced by other people who are in my life the most.  If I am around people where image doesn’t matter, I fall on the wayside with them and don’t make an effort because it’s never noted or appreciated when I do.

I absolutely adore people who are vain, narcissistic or believe that image is everything… they are my kind of people; they are the kinds of people who keep me to my standards!  But I don’t like the ones who make things too personal.  Yes, nag me to take care of myself, my hair, and my fashion, give me tips and advice, but don’t go getting personal about weight and things I can’t change like nose shape and eye shape etc.

I know I am overweight, I am working on it, I don’t need to be told, I am already deeply ashamed about that aspect about me without being reminded or judged for it!

There is nothing I can do about my nose and eyes other than surgery and I don’t want to be the Bride of Frankenstein, no offence.  Though I do need surgery on my nose, because I have broken cartilage that has never healed, but it’s not aesthetic. 

Also I don’t like the ones who think there is something I can do about my big scars.  Yes I know make up works wonders, but some of my scars go into my hairline and messes my hair up if I use cosmetics in those areas!

Always be kind in your advice, never vitriolic.

I love glamour, but I am not well versed in using make up – I never had a feminine influence who taught me things like that.  It’s something I need to learn!

Like my mother never made a point about hygiene, I learned from other people who took care of me over the years.

I remember when I had my first menses as a child, I was unusually early, 8yrs old – my mother gave me sanitary towels but never told me how to use them and for the first few months I wore them with the glue attached to my vagina and not the underwear – when I got my first hairs I learned I had been doing it wrong, because I complained to her about it one day and she called me a fool!

But anyway, I love fashion and I like to stand out a little.  But I do love my baggy comforts and rough and ready looks in dungarees and what not on a day to day basis.  But generally, I love to play with my looks whenever possible because I am a suppressed attention whore, I know I love attention if I can get it and showing off my latest outfits is one way to get attention!

I know when I was a lot younger I was very much the “notice me, notice me” type – but I got beaten pretty badly off my pedestal over the years.

I refuse to believe that as I get older my ability to be a peacock is less and less obtainable, I mean just look at some of the classic stars in Hollywood still bombing around at their best at ninety!

There’s life in the old dog yet, lol what am I saying?  I am only forty!

Growing up I loved the egotistical and I have a playlist called “Vanity” where I have all sorts of songs on it, one of them happens to be the theme tune “Sexy boy” from the wrestler Shawn Michaels – “eat your heart out girls, hands off the merchandise”!  I had Shawn Michaels as a pin up in my bedroom but the bigger poster I had was his quote rather than him “IMAGE IS EVERYTHING”!

Gosh, if I hadn’t of been brutalised, what would I have been like right now as a person?

Though I say all this, yet I am nothing like how I want to be right now – I am a shocking mess, enough to make the true inner me heave whenever I look in the mirror.  But I do feel – why bother when nobody cares and you’re just spending money on your looks that you can’t afford?

I spruce myself up occasionally but it doesn’t get a reaction from anyone around here, not even Paul.

I am embarrassed to say, my depression got so bad in 2016 I found it hard to get the motivation to do basic things like brush my hair etc. around the house – I wasn’t going out as I was bedbound and so often times I didn’t bother.  It made me go around the twist a bit and I think I went stir crazy, because one day I woke up and decided to literally buzz cut my hair clean off!

With the alopecia I have, I am near wanting to do that again, but scared I’ll regret it, especially as my hair is long now and it’s becoming a pacifier for me to brush my hair through with my fingers when I feel insecure.

I think I am also like a snake – it hurts to admit this, because my mother used to call me that a lot when I was growing up and made me feel guilt, shame and disgust for it. 

Why do I think I am like a snake?

Because when someone hurts me, I am quieter than I used to be – I am more observant and I tend to strike at their weakest moment and strike hard!

I think I am a snake because like a snake I sit in the grass watching my attackers, seeing what they are doing to me or trying to do to me and I am calculating… calculating their next move, then WHAM!  I find out their weakness and it’s not pretty. 

I have always been the quiet observer – as my auntie always said “you’ve got to watch the quiet ones”, she kept warning people not to push me too far as I am one they’ve got to be more careful of!

A snake isn’t untrustworthy; it’s a misunderstood creature because it has a superior intelligence for survival, which is unique in the world.  Because they do strike when you least expect it, because you never respected the snake, you underestimated it – you thought it was small and helpless and an easy touch – but the snake will always show you!

If someone criticises me and I give a small strained smile and go quiet, just understand, you’ve hurt me more than you think.  I tend not to be vocal about my hurt feelings too much with people I hardly know.

But also that same smile can be confusing I guess – because it is the same smile I have when I feel anxious or not very confident.

I am also like an elephant… I never forget – I forgive sometimes – but I never forget and I will always make sure you never forget either, if you’ve ever hurt me!

I am also big and a klutz and I survive with my hearing loss because I rely on vibrations, like elephants do!  I also don’t know my own strength, I am unusually strong really.

I mean, before I got sick I could carry a two hundred a fifty pound man over my shoulder!

I used to have big aspirations as a glamazon strength contest woman, this was a thing in the early 2000s in the UK – like the strongest women in the world contest but they were also glamour pusses too!  Not all of them had grotesquely huge muscles; some looked like normal women, but could bench press three hundred or more pounds.

I got out of that ambition when I was 21 because men found it a turn off.

I still kind of dream about doing something similar again, like I used to dream about being a gladiator or a contestant on that show or a female professional wrestler, yes, these are genuine past ambitions I once had!

I loved fitness a lot and it is something I really want to get back into again in a big way – but again, without other like-minded folk in my life, it’s hard to motivate myself!

I like to think that I could get fit enough again where I could potentially do those things in the future and maybe go on the new show Apocalypse Wow too!

But I can be a bit rough with people and I have been known to break the stems of wine glasses by holding them too tight – really I sometimes wonder if I am half orc or something!

I look big and muscular whether overweight or not and people are often shocked when they hear me talk when I feel anxious or shy, because… yeah… my voice doesn’t match my physique and no… I do not have an annoyingly high pitched voice… I have a really strange calm, soothing voice by all accounts that sounds slightly young, but it’s not high pitched unless I am excited or angry.

The closest British actress I can think of that has a voice similar to me is Camille Codari, she is definitely a close sound alike – Americans will probably know her from the John Goodman and Peter O’Toole movie King Ralph!  But also Jackie Tyler from Dr Who; I can be a sociopath at times and put on voices depending on the situation, I am self-conscious of my childish common natural voice, so I do try and suppress it a lot.

My grandma did a lot of elocution lessons on me as I was growing up and so I do know how to talk more mature and aristocratic when I need to and keep it up for quite some time!  It was an essential survival tactic I needed as I was growing up in mixed religious and class cultures.

I can put on a voice that does suit my looks but it is the kind of voice that gets you noticed in public and I don’t like that – it’s a rough and ready school ma’am type of voice, that sounds like I won’t have any funny business!  Lol!  That voice can sound reminiscent of Pam Ferris or Martita Hunt, scary contrast if you ask me!

But there you go me in animal form.

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Filed under About Me

Meet my shadow

Would you like to see my shadow?

My shadow self, I mean. 

Do you even know what I am talking about?

No?

Well, a shadow self is the dark side of you – the personality traits and habits you have that you are not proud of having and try to repress, the things you feel shame about, the things you fight hard against.   For many people its things like anger, sadness, rage, jealousy and cruelty and habits like addiction, self-harming and so forth.

So, do you want to see my shadow?  Or at least the bits I am willing to share about it?

If not, then tough – because this is what this post is about, my shadow self!

A lot of the shame aspect of my shadow isn’t so much my real feelings about them, but the kinds of feelings I was beaten into believing is shameful about them – brainwashed brutally by others to supress about myself. 

Some things about my shadow self, I am actually rather proud of and I want to bring it out into the open a lot more.  But because I was brutalised into shame for those things, I can’t help but burn up all over whenever I dare think about being that person!

When I was a lot younger, I am talking adolescent age; I took up smoking for a few weeks until I developed a bad chest infection. 

It is one of my hidden fetishes as I found smoking sexy in some ways and still do; even though it’s not sexy at all really… it’s dangerous for the health.  But I am definitely someone who finds certain styles of smokers pleasing to look at.  This is one of the things I feel shame about, because it’s a selfish act – I am not thinking of the smoker’s health here, just my own lust at the aesthetic of at looking at them.

I took up smoking because I wanted to be that sexy smoker with the cigarette extension at posh parties, but my chest couldn’t take it, so it soon stopped!

I won’t go back into it again and my own guilty conscience could never use anyone for that aesthetic, as I really do care about people I love.

Although I am a very open person and I have lived with polygamists and been involved with open relationships, I am a jealous person – if I know I am not getting the quality of attention and care I desire; if neglected too long I can be positively vicious or over enthusiastic, depends on the person and what happened between us.

I admit I can be a vengeful person, but I tend to decline from violence whenever possible because I have a problem that can’t be managed well, when in a violent situation.  I am afraid to admit that I have been physically brutalised so much in my life, I have the same traumatic response as a war veteran. 

If violence is not easily avoided, I zone out, go red and attack back to the extent I can’t relay what I did to the person, other people have to tell me.  It’s like I go into a trance or something.  This is why, if I feel a violent situation is going too far I have to do the so-called cowardly thing and walk away!  It’s a huge part of the PTSD I have.

I know it sounds counterproductive, but this is where another fetish of mine comes in useful – I have been involved deeply in the BDSM lifestyle as both sub and dominant.  I prefer sub when I am in a relationship where I completely love and respect the man, it’s hard when I don’t love deeply or respect them enough to submit to them  It does matter to me, I can’t just submit to anyone.

But a good trusting dominant that I love and respect, knows what boundaries I have and respects them, pushes them from time to time as they build trust with me and it actually helps with the PTSD over a time. 

It’s hard for me to top a guy I love and respect though.  I prefer not being the dominant partner if am honest with you.

Which leads to another shadow trait I have – intense pride, I feel a lot of pride when I am a submissive to the right guy – I am proud for being what they need me to be at the time, I am proud to help, proud to do things… if those things make me comfortable and they respect my boundaries.  Now for those who aren’t involved in the lifestyle, you may feel that a submissive can’t have boundaries – but they do, in fact they are more respected than vanilla/regular relationships in my opinion.

I am so happy within myself when I feel needed or given a task or I have successfully done something for the one I love.

Another thing is, I need a man who likes to take control like that – especially if they have high standards, because I do not thrive without someone like that in my life.  I go stagnant, I don’t look after myself properly and I let myself go; Which is strange because I am a proud person and I am very vain by my nature, but again, society has brutalised that out of me… so when I am not in a controlling relationship with a vain guy who has high standards, my vanity flies out of the window too – because I am naturally also quite modest.

Because I was made to be modest, it is unacceptable to be vain in the religious communities I was raised in.

Paul is not a vain person – he doesn’t care what I look like, he is just happy having me around or was until recently.  But I know from past experiences, when I have had a guy who does care and does have high standards, I never slack on my beauty regime and trying to look my best, because I don’t want to fail him!

It’s hard to get the motion going without someone like that in my life, because I don’t have the inclination to do it just for myself, because I don’t get the same sense of pride from it.

I am also ashamed to admit I thrive on praise, if I don’t get enough of it, it doesn’t feed my pride so I become like a hungry lioness that starts to rebel because I haven’t been acknowledged enough – yes, I admit I am hard work!

My dream would be to be part of a couple where we motivate each other, we have similar needs but are polar opposites, I am submissive they are dominant, but we both need each other for the praise and challenge to make each other the best that we can be for each other, with true team work.

Though saying that, some of my fetishes seem to put the dominant into a bottom role at times, I love foot fetishists, I love having my feet sensually acknowledged and that can be difficult thing to broach with some dominant men.

I know the shadow aspect is more than just sex, but I am following a pattern of thought here, from one thing to another and it just so happens to be sexually related right now.

To the right dominant I will be completely 100% loyal to and could do almost anything within my limits for, not just in the bedroom, but in life too.  I have a strong sense of integrity though, which can put up certain blocks for how much the dominant can harness me.

I will do anything for them, but if it goes against my hard-core beliefs, you’d have a hard time convincing me to do it and that’s where another trait of mine comes into play.  I am renowned for being stubborn!

Yes I have stubborn integrity!

If I don’t respect or love someone deeply enough or if my integrity is being challenged, I am so incredibly stubborn and forthright that nothing will stand in my way to maintain my poise and position on the matter and I will respond to it viciously if I must.

I remember an old Lord who met me once, got off on the wrong foot with me with his naughty disrespectful behaviour (non-sexual) and I told him a few home truths and I got the nickname “Sparky” from him!

Another shadow trait I have is self-harming if I believe I have let people I love down or humiliated them in some way – I also self-harm when I feel humiliated or stupid, or if I am too stressed without support.  I just go and sit in the corner and scratch myself to pieces with broken glass!  Though that happens rarely these days, in fact the last relapse I’ve had with that was about three years ago.

What’s worse is whenever possible I will try not to cry in front of people, so people never really know how upset I have got over things as I tend to hide myself away, though lately that’s getting difficult to do as I am getting more emotional as I am getting older. but a good master or dominant man will know to always double check on me.

Another part of my shadow self goes back to fetishes again, I switch easily from sub to dominant to alpha submissive on sister subs if I am in a polygamous household.  I don’t like dominant women and I have a hard time having any woman try to top me, in fact – just don’t even try to go there!

But with other submissive women I have a playful dominant streak which can sometimes be too teasing and borderline cruel; I have to be reined in at times – but it depends on who the other person is; the less I like them the naughtier I get with them.  Yes, viciousness is a part of who I am at times – but it rarely rears its ugly head, because generally I just want to be nice and helpful most of the time!

Another thing, I am a huge attention whore – I mean, I don’t just like being acknowledge a bit… I like a lot of hands on attention and I have been known to be called “exhausting” by some previous relationships on both a physical and mental level.

I need a lot of touching, snuggling, feeling, playing – you get me?  When I am not getting that I tend to talk people to death, or at least that’s how they make me feel at times.

I often think that I need a dominant man who can handle all that but also socialises a lot, so he can take me out to a party or something and point me in a direction and say “look, friends, go talk to them” and nudge me over to them so he can have a break lol.

Another thing is, I have to be boring at events etc. in that I only drink three glasses of any kind of alcohol, unless they are shot glasses then maximum seven.  Because to me, I love alcohol and I think it could be all too easy for me to follow my family down the alcoholism line.  Because to me, alcohol is really nice and it’s like soda to me!  So I avoid it, because I know myself well enough.

I have had ex alcoholic boyfriends in the past and I have respected them enough to NEVER drink alcohol around them, because I know addiction is hard.

If you hadn’t noticed yet, another shadow aspect of me is sex addiction.  Actually, it can be a real problem if I am with a very erm… playful guy?

I am one of these people that gain more energy with it, I am very lusty and have a high libido – same with normal exercise too – if I am lethargic and can’t be motivated to do much due to laziness just make me exercise – if you are in a relationship with me, sex is more fun! 

I have been complained at for having such a high drive that an ex felt I used them only for their body… so… lol

Up until recently I was very embarrassed about being super childish and repressed it hugely, but healing my inner child is bringing the childishness out more and more and though, sometimes it can be a bit much for a forty year old woman to act the way I do… I am happier for it!

I can be bratty at times; if I know I can get away with it with people.  I am talking Verruca Salt here, but then again I am easier to please than her as I have modest desires really!

All I tend to want are fluffy cushions, snuggles, pets, books, endless art supplies, perfumes and a virile dominant man – what more could I possibly want? … Oh and a big kitchen, a happy family and a good sized garden… nearly forgot those essentials!

I avoid eating candy outside of ovulation because it makes me hyper.  I am talking squirrel on caffeine kind of hyper!  Give me candy during ovulation should be a part of any man’s survival manual if they are in my life!  I turned into a right monster when sugar deprived around then!

Just imagine a 40yr old Verruca Salt shouting “Give me candy now, or I will scream and scream and scream”, you kind of get the message… though I am polite, so I am likely to say please, the rude part comes if anyone dares say no to me at this time.

People give in, because when I scream, it’s reminiscent of Madeline Kahn.

So there you have it – my shadow in all its glory…

I can’t say I feel any better for sharing it – if anything I kind of feel embarrassed about it and might hide for a year or two over it… but never mind.

I may just plod along.

Thanks for reading!

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Filed under Defining myself

It’s not vanity week, honest!

Why did I confess about my supressed vanity and why do I seem so proud of it?

Because, it is a major part of my natural personality that got the hardest beatings and chastisements over the years, to me it feels like it was 50% of my personality and that since my suppressors took a hold on me – to get me out of the mind-set of it, it was like I have lived my whole life a lie.

I lived as my shadow self for too long, though many people feel that vanity is the shadow aspect in itself, maybe my mind is all muddled up – but to me, this is what came naturally to me and it is this what got moulded out of me.

I know a lot of people, my mother included will tell me that vanity is the shadow self, because vanity is a sin.

I don’t see how it’s a sin to make the most of what you have, why shouldn’t you adorn the precious body God gave you however you like?  Why should you not worship God through your temple, which is your body and give thanks and honour him for a job well done?

Why is it more holy to hate yourself and live modestly about your looks or abilities, surely revelling in it all is the biggest form of gratitude to the creator?

I remember slaps across my face as a child when I actually used to have the guts to ask these questions to my mother!

“How dare you” she used to say as she’d drag me to the bathroom to wash my mouth with soap, literally!

To wash those dirty words out of my mouth, because I say something that can’t be redeemed, her long nails scratching the back of my throat as she washed my tongue deeply!

I hate Imperial Leather soap to this day!

All the women I admired growing up were the vain glamorous types, I always kind of screwed my nose up at the ordinary woman and lived in amazement at how much some women put the time into their looks above everything else.

I always wanted to be like that too, but I was only like that for two short years in my adult life before I moved in with Paul and about a year when I moved in with Paul – funnily enough the year before I became sick.

Its sods law that I want to get to grips with my true self now and I have long Covid alopecia which is ruining my idea of what great hair is!  I have learned these things over the years, your hair is your crowning glory, and the thing that gets you judged the most; second to that are your shoulders, people look at your shoulders and your neck and judge your posture a lot!  Thirdly to this is the clothing or accessories you choose to wear and it’s generally make up as the last thing people will notice about you. 

Though going back to the clothing, people don’t look up and then down, they look down and go up, they judge you from your footwear.  This is my experience in any case.

Your smile is another factor that probably comes before the cosmetic application judgement!  Which is why I have a closed mouth smile, I am ashamed of my mouth.

My mouth is the most abused part of my body, my voice suppressed a lot, my mouth has had a lot of abuse – forced feedings, mouth wash outs, slapped across the face a lot, squeezed to keep silent, hand over my mouth, is it any wonder my throat chakra is hard to unblock?

So what is going on here, why is it vanity week?

Well it’s not intentionally vanity week – it’s just I am really working on my inner child in the past two or three weeks and it just so happens to coincide with a few of the self-therapies I am doing.

Waking up the true me, the unblocked me, the real me.

I want to take you all on a journey with me – weight loss and changing my image and I hope it will be fun for all of us!

I am not going to be happy until I can rock a pair of suspenders better than Dr Frank n Furter!

Just don’t think of me in them now huh, don’t want to have nightmares now do we?

For me one of the big things I hate about living here is the inability to get access to someone who can do household maintenance when it needs to be done, instead of having to wait years between projects!  Our shower broke down in 2016 and I bought its replacement in 2018 and it still hasn’t been installed!  I need my twice daily showers and twice weekly exfoliations!

I miss lathering myself in shea butter for an hour and then showering it off, the stretch marks were reduced a lot and it does a lot to help with cellulite, but you can’t get into a bath to wash it all off, ew!

I think my biggest goal since childhood was to have the confidence as well as the body to rock a velveteen cat suit too!  One I’ve dreamt of designing since I was a nine!  When I had the figure to wear something like that I didn’t have the guts!

Its really weird how since doing all this inner child stuff, I am seeing a lot of butterflies, dragonflies, caterpillars, flamingos, ibises and peacocks – all representatives of transformation, flamboyance, vibrancy, vanity and confidence.

I have been taking care of my body with a high protein diet, a little exercise per day and face yoga and I am seeing a major difference to my face and figure personally.  I am starting to like myself a bit but I am thinking that’s a lot to do with the change in my mentality, thanks to that Mel Robbins technique I shared with you a couple of weeks back!

I am now able to plank for about one minute, which is impressive when you think that I struggled to hold a squat for fifteen seconds at Easter!

Six weeks ago I could only do ten reps of bicep curls without weights before needing a two minute break to continue to the full thirty reps – now I can do fifty reps off the bat without resting, though I am slightly out of breath by then.

My main focuses in toning up are my triceps area, as that is not a very nice part of my body, as well as my abs, because I look five months pregnant if I am being honest right now.  The rest of the body seems to be doing itself naturally and appropriately, I don’t know why these two areas in particular are being stubborn!

The aim isn’t to become too muscular, but to tone it up and not be horribly flabby.

At the moment my arms look alien to the rest of my body, which is why I pose with them tightly behind my back, because I look like an ape… well I am an ape, all humans are… but you know what I mean!

So, I just want to be beautiful and feel good for it, I want to be in a position of belief when someone tells me I am beautiful.  But I don’t want to be a mean cocky bitch about it like some women are. 

I just want to wear what I want, feel great in it and be who I want to be, when I want to be it, instead of cringing and thinking I am making a fool of myself, or that people are going to think that two little boys are fighting up my skirt as I walk down the road!

Thanks for reading!

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Devil’s feral child

I was raised like a feral child

Though my playground was a cage

I was kept away from others

I could not with others engage

I could look on and wonder

What it’s like to play

With the other children

I see from my garden each day

But never be a part of their society

Because I was never meant to be free

No one to hug me when I cried

Not when people went and died

I had to do it all alone

Alone and lonely in my home

Without any comfort or kind words

Their only touch was to hurt

Constantly berated for my heart

Don’t be weak we’ll tear you apart

Go back upstairs in your cage

No way to ever assuage the pain

Just you remember, don’t be vain!

You are the devil’s child

Don’t do it again!

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Vanity & suppression

I have been thinking about the YouTube channel I am going to set up after Christmas a lot, I have been trying to think about what it should be mostly about.  People like themes, they don’t like random people no matter how authentic they are, or do they?

I mean, I like a lot of stuff and I would like to do a lot of stuff – I don’t want to be bored with the same old same old, you know?

I want to sometimes read out my poetry to people, I want to share gardening tips and recipes and my journey through weight loss and other things.  I don’t want to just be a gardening vlog, or a beauty and fitness vlog or a writing vlog.  I want to do the whole caboodle, now people say, sure you can do this but have multiple channels, but I don’t really want to do that.

If I had multiple channels, then I will need to film and edit every day for a once a week post on each and that is taking up more time than I want to do.

Plus I am none too thrilled about the editing process, I hate doing anything technical for too long.

One of my biggest desires in having a YouTube channel is to visibly show people my weight loss, fitness progresses.  But contrary to that there are two things I hate about it… the fame this could give me and the fact I have to show my fat ugly body and face on the camera, or else, what am I showing?

I’m paranoid enough without being famous!

Seriously, you have no idea how paranoid I am when a stranger points and looks like they are talking about me.  I mean… I can’t cope now, let alone when I know they know me… you know… at least right now I can put it down to me being a schizoid, of course they aren’t really pointing at me…. Until they then call me fat ass to my face and I am like… ok I guess they were then, rude!

I keep my mouth shut to people who shout that at me, primarily because I want to live.  But inside I want to shout out “Like your lip will be if you carry on mate”!

If people knew the attitude that goes on inside my head, I would have been murdered years ago!

I don’t like the idea of going out dressed up in a headscarf and huge sunglasses and learning to turn my head away from anyone as I walk past them like some super international spy!   

I just want to dawdle down the street in my scruffs on a lazy day, walking a dog, without it being splashed on the papers “TC bad hair day” or “TC midlife crisis” you know.

But then again, there are days where the attention whore comes out and it’s like “for goodness sake notice me, notice me, stop ignoring me, why am I being ignored when I have just walked down the street looking like a bowl of fruit”?

Thing is, I do like attention if I have to be honest with you.  But the problem is, on my terms and the world doesn’t work like that!

Fame scares me because of the stupid lengths some journalists will go to for a good pic and a front page position in their newspaper; it’s disgusting what some people will do to advance themselves.

When I was little I was famous for a few months in North London as being a pageant queen stripped of her rightful prize because of nepotism in the judging panel.  I remember someone taking me by the hand to pull me away from my mum so they got a perfect shot of me, The Angel of Burnt Oak!

That scared me, let alone the incidences with a couple of my more famous relatives.

The universe has wanted me to be famous for a long time, but I have always fought it.  My grandmother and some of the Romany relatives we have often sat down having fortune telling annuals for the family and from the age of seven they have all been convinced I will be a huge name in the world someday; though they said I will be late in getting that name.  I will be in my early forties.

They suggested even back then, that I am destined for greatness, I will find greatness myself, but I will find someone equally great to spend my life with.  They warned me I would have a child with a man but then I would leave him to start a second family quite late in life. 

Though I would start all this late in life, my legacy would be huge and I would be like Shakespeare or Charles Dickens in how long my fame will last.

Vanity, I know – I know its vanity and I would hold my hands up and say, you think I am bad for this now?  You should have seen me when I was thinner and I felt prettier than I do now, then you’d know how vain I really can be!

I even have a playlist called “Vanity” where you will find songs on it such as “keep young and beautiful” by Annie Lennox, “You’re never fully dressed without a smile” by the musical Annie and “beautiful and dirty rich” by Lady Gaga!.

So yes vanity has always been part of what I call “my true” personality, but it has been badly abused and supressed over the years.  Make no mistake, I don’t think I am beautiful, but I do know there’s a lot of people who said I am and although I don’t believe them, I take their word for it; as the world isn’t generally nice about that sort of thing, unless it’s true and I know a lot of beautiful people who hate themselves too.

I used to obsess over my looks a lot because I can’t stand it when another woman notices; you forgot to do your eyebrows today, omg you have no lip liner, just lipstick? 

I can’t afford to be vain anymore; I don’t have the budget for it.  But when I got sick in 2014 I totally let myself go because my illness made me bedbound and for a while we thought I had some type of cancer, but it wasn’t. 

I also thought, nobody is interested in me with a child and I am approaching forty, why bother?  Especially with my baggage. 

But I have been doing a lot of inner child therapies lately and its waking the true me up again – I love it, but I also hate the idea of people seeing my changes and thinking I am trying too hard to impress others or that I am being pretentious, when in fact I am actually becoming my more authentic and very supressed self! 

As a child, before my mother started to peel me apart from the age of 7yrs I used to love standing in front of people performing for them, singing, acting, dancing, showing off and being my beautiful self in such cocky little way!  This I believe is one of the reasons behind why my grandad called me “cocker” because I was cocky before my mother got her nails into me!

It’s funny but I started to get fat around the time mum started to hate me and supress me, before that, when I had her love and support, I was blooming marvellous and hadn’t a care in the world, I could move mountains with my confidence. 

She insisted she needed to hold me down though, or I was going to the devil, she especially freaked out when I got the notion of burlesque – a thing I saw on TV thanks to my grandad and uncle watching it and predicting that will be me when I am older, mark their words! 

My grandma said if I turn out like that, I’d definitely be following her mother’s footsteps as she was a cancan dancer and burlesque performer!  Imagine that, my great grandma a cancan performer! 

As a child my biggest career dream was to be a fashion designer but my mother worked like a woodpecker on my confidence when she found this out and wouldn’t encourage anything that might be connected to fashion and destroyed my sense of self love as much as possible to get this stupid dream out of my head.

Yet, ironically, it was she who’d force me into the pageants until I became embarrassingly fat for her and she told me she was ashamed to be seen in public with me because of it.

So yes, given the right environment, the right sense of self, I am a vain creature and attention whore to boot and my mother did everything possible to knock me off the pedestal I was on, because she felt the way I was going my life would be filled with sin if she didn’t act cruel to be kind.

But I have tried hard not to be vain, narcissistic or to reach too high – because I can’t stand the reactions from people like my mother who are vitriolic and jealous or greedy to try and do something to you to either destroy you or make entertainment out of you.

I have to say it has been a battle that’s been with me my whole life.  I want to be this great person that everyone admires and to be beautiful and loved, but I also don’t want the evil that comes with it.  You know?

I am on a weight loss journey, so I can be whoever I want to be unashamedly and with a little extra confidence – I will never have oodles of confidence, but I am going to fake it until I make it and I want to be a butterfly or better yet, a peacock!

As I’ve said before, I have had to learn to do everything on an emotional level alone – no support – no friends, nada.

It’s scary to think of what I could be if I am still alone, you know?  I need security, I mean emotional security.  Yeah sure, physical security, physical assistance is in abundance in the world, but it’s the emotional security that really counts.

I’ve never been taught to cope with grief or have my grief acknowledged by anyone.  I was always made to feel bad and selfish when I was sad and grieving a loss.

Told I am a stupid girl who needs to snap out of it, snap out of the idea my grandpa has just died, the same grandpa who I lived with for the last 3 months of his life as he died of cancer right before my eyes!

10yrs old and all I got was a pat on the head from my dad, nothing else from anyone else, when grandpa died, when I was still tearful after three days, people became aggressive with me – get over it you stupid girl stop going on trying to get attention for yourself!

All I wanted was a cuddle, some kind words, but being raised by adults who are all self-absorbed, obviously they don’t think about anyone but themselves.  They might have been a close family in that we had a massive family extended for five or even six generations that still maintained contact, but they were not supportive of each other.  They were not the kind of family that pulled together to grieve and help each other, they all go off into their own small groups or by themselves and the children usually end up forgotten.

When raised by people like this, is it any wonder then, why I cry when a stranger shows me kindness and goes out of their way to be nice to me and sympathetic?

Because I am genuinely not used to being treated with any kind of humanity!

I was raised like a thing, not a person.

I remember when I was in therapy groups as a teenager, I remember joking with my peers about how I wasn’t raised I was dragged up and spat out, reeled in and clout, clout, clout.

My peers though knowing it to be tragic laughed, the therapists cried and some refused to treat me as my case was so specifically hard, they needed a lot of mental time off from work, as hearing what I went through, broke them.

It happened to a lot of therapists, I often had them in tears when I recalled my normal daily life and they’d have to end sessions early.  I tried my best actually to hold back a lot because I needed the therapy, but some of them insisted I didn’t – my mother did.

I remember one therapist in particular was so aggrieved by what I went through, she broke all protocol just to give me a long, long tight hug as she cried and she told me, she so desperately wants to get me away from my parents and adopt me.  Then she came to her senses and she couldn’t be in therapy with me alone anymore, she had to have a colleague with her to maintain a professional standard.  This woman worked tirelessly to try and have me removed from custody of my parents, but she failed.

I was weirdly happy with quite a bit of my childhood until I realised that my parents weren’t normal, after seeing so many professionals break like that.  I really thought it was normal that at 7am you’re kicked out into the garden until lunch time, made to entertain yourself when you’re not at school with only a dog and a rabbit as company or the elderly neighbours talking to you over a fence.

At 12:15pm daddy comes home for lunch, perfectly normal to cook for him and yourself, eat your lunch and get out into the garden by 12:45 again until you’re called in for dinner at 4pm same routine, mums working night shift, you got to cook for everyone – then outside again until 7pm.

I thought it was perfectly normal to only bath once a week and nothing else and that in the summer your bath became the kids paddling pool, but with soap!

Of course it’s not, I know that now, but back then, it’s normal life!

I remember my mum when I was of legal age to drink getting excited that I was of age to become her drinking partner at nightclubs, but I was terrified of going to places like that and refused to go.  She was disappointed, but still tried to have drinking nights in with a slap up meal with her mates and tried to make me drink alcohol with her – “here love, drink more of this, you are more human after you’ve got a drink down you, you’re so tight otherwise… go on have another and another”.

She nearly poisoned me one night when I gave in to every temptation.  I got so ill I nearly needed the hospital, the hallucinations were really, really bad – she said it was only alcohol, but I never really knew.

Dad was furious.

I still went with mum to her mates, but I started to insist control in my drinks and never trusted anything given to me after that – I wanted to know my orange was just orange and not some exotic new type that mysteriously contained vodka or gin that they didn’t tell me about.

I am not tight; I will drink, but not enough to get drunk.

So yeah, all sorts of things could end up on my vlog, but I won’t make it a sympathise with me vlog.  It will all be upbeat or informative, nothing dull, nothing depressing; it will be my happy place.

I was thinking about being 100% authentic on there, no matter how tragic it is.  Doing all sorts of things, whether I get laughed at or not, because no doubt I will because I am cheeky – I am self-deprecating and I do stupid things, I am accident prone, I am just not graceful and clueless… it will be hilarious. 

I mean the other day, I was putting on something really tight and I struggled and I was hopping around the room like a Chinese vampire, trying to heave these darn pants on and I fell ass over tit on my face!

Don’t be surprised if that happens in the vlogs if I am brave enough to show my face!

Henry forgot his password to his Roblox game review channel he had, where I’d comment from time to time funny little quips now and again, interrupting his shows and he said if it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have had as many views – because a lot of people loved the mum stuff.

We thought at the time, Henry was a budding “Morgz” because he did a lot of stuff with his mum didn’t he?

Well this post is getting a bit long now, so I think I had better end it here, sorry about that, just so much on my mind tonight.

Thanks for reading!

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Beauty, dance, and gratefulness

A handful of friends have sent me DMs recently about my deadline.  I have to agree to take their advice and not push for it, because in the past two weeks in particular life here has been hard on me and I have found it difficult to focus on reading anything, let alone writing anything.

Henry is has recently had an emergency assessment to test for autism because his behaviour is worsening at school, at the moment they decline to say much about their findings because they feel they need to do another one or two assessments on him before they are sure.

Along with this, as you all are probably aware of, Paul and I are separating; which is a surprise really, because around 2015 we more or less decided to stick with each other, despite our relationship only meaning to be temporary.

We don’t know when we will decide to live apart as I have discussed recently, but it is on the cards.

Along with this I am trying my hardest to get into shape and lose weight, so I have more confidence in myself when I start a new relationship.

I really wanted to debut a book by summer, which is why I wanted to approach an agent on the 21st October, however, I have too much going on right now to do it and along with it all, the idea of YouTube may also be a failing start for January too; because my future is very uncertain right now.

I am also very confused by people behaviours online recently.  Since alerting my readers of my separation with Paul, I have been getting a lot of attention in DMs.  I suppose it’s not so confusing as I have more or less announced my availability, but what is confusing is the dominance some people are portraying in their emails to me from the off-set.  Like whom do they think they are?

It started with the email from a well-known author to Paul, I won’t mention names, but he is pretty big as far as authors go.  According to Paul this author had asked him outright whether or not we genuinely are in an open relationship and if it is OK for him to approach me for a relationship someday?  Paul said of course.

Though this author has not approached me in any other way other than being a sort of friendly online acquaintance, I felt it was cheeky to do that and especially behind my back!

He has a blue tick on twitter, so it’s the genuine article, but he is not the only person who has approached this recently with me. 

Unfortunately I feel some pressure by this person to finish my AD project in particular as they believe they’ve cottoned on to my plot with my hints and has got inspired to make something very similar if I am not quick enough; unfortunately, they’ve kind of guessed correctly what my story might be. or so, Paul has told me someone who is associated with this author has told him.

I don’t know whether or not Paul is just rocking the boat telling me these things, because he was initially afraid of losing me, but more recently he has found a new lady himself and doesn’t seem to think that what he told me in the past is anything to worry about, now.

I really don’t like cloak and daggers and underhanded stuff and I am getting rather uncomfortable with it all.

But if what Paul has said is true, then this author will be starting the idea around March apparently, which is why I feel the pressure to write this quickly, because its a series.

For now, all I want to do is focus on is my fitness, trimming down and getting my head together, whilst still trying to write a tiny bit per day towards any current project.  Maybe read a book once a fortnight, the reading has slowed down immensely.

But I am trying to find my true self. 

My true self, since a very young child – kindergarten almost, has always had a massive love for fashion and glamour.  For short bursts throughout my life, I have tried to get into it all big time – but there was always someone getting in my way and stopping me, usually my mother.

My mother is out of my life right now, so I feel free to be as vain and beautiful as I want, in the manner I want.

I loved the book “Matilda” by Roald Dahl as a child and in there is a quote where they say that there are two types of women in the world those that choose looks and those that chose books. 

Most of my life I chose books, purely as a means of escapism.  Had I have had a more stable life I would be more focused on looks and entertainment of other kinds, such as singing or acting.

All I know is that I am a huge daydreamer. 

I can’t help but think of great stories all of the time, often at the drop of a hat – but I have little interest in making them books, I want them to be on the screen somehow.  It has always been my primary goal.

My idea of the best kind of entertainment is visual and audio.  I read a lot, yes, but mostly to learn, I don’t really read for the amusement of it – I am just knowledge hungry, that’s all.

I really don’t think I’d be as much of a gaming or science geek as I am today, had I have been raised primarily by say – my honorary auntie Sheila or my grandmother for example.

I know had I of been raised by my paternal grandmother she’d have made me go into the equestrian gymkhana groups and gymnastics and all sorts of things like that.  She’d have fully supported my sports goals in swimming and judo and would have pushed me into other things to socialise a lot with the better classes as she’d put it; Potentially making me become a singer or an actress along with it, because she often tried to encourage me to go with my aunts to their amateur theatres to be a part of their little comedies, but at the time I was bullied out of it by being fat shamed by my mum.

I really wanted more of the life my grandmother wanted for me, as it reflected what my dad wanted for me too, but mum never supported any of it.

All my life I have envied women in gymnastics in particular.

As an adult my grandmother learned I had a passion for watching dance shows and that I really wanted to learn to dance and she arranged for me to go to Ealing to become taught by a famous dancer called Anton Du Beke.  When my mum found out I was going to go to it, she gave me a nasty ultimatum, go to this school for dance or lose the internet.  At the time I had an Ebay business and I had a lot of online friends, so losing the internet was not an option for me, so she had got her way.

I have always wanted to learn to tango, especially with a life partner, because I have a lot of passion in me and I really would love a relationship like Morticia and Gomez Addams. 

It’s a goal I have still, once fit enough I will go to find a school for the tango.  Or if I become a published author and famous enough I’d practically beg “strictly come dancing” to let me be a celebrity contestant!

But ultimately, my stories should be on the screen and should also be merchandise as a lot of my ideas are not only horror, but mostly for the family entertainment industry.  Horror is lessening these days as I am thinking of more light-hearted fantasy stories.  Sure, project AD is a dystopian, but it has anthropomorphic characters, children and comedy in it, which lightens the mood immensely.

Even if I am only writing a paragraph per day at least it’s getting done.  But for now, I can’t do much more than that because there are a lot of explosive arguments going on about me, mostly between Henry and Paul but lately, Paul is starting to drain me with his noticeable irritations, because he feels as trapped as I do.

I am just in the way.  That is not something I want to feel when I am still quite emotionally vulnerable and could at any moment decide to seek out the medicine box.  I mean, other than Henry and a rabbit, what I have I got to live for?

Paul and Henry have already decided between themselves that Henry will stay with Paul not me, so I won’t even have Henry as an excuse to stay alive soon; Just the rabbit, and he is 5yrs old on his next birthday.  He is also the last birthday present I’ve ever received since we fell into poverty, that’s if I am not including the regular chocolate bars I’ve got between then and now.

Still, shouldn’t be ungrateful.

Happy reading!

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