blogs

n/a

n/a

n/a

n/a

Relationships and vulnerability

Me again.

So here's the thing... I have just entered into a new relationship with a guy I have known for a long time, a good friend of mine who I lost touch with for a few years and just met up with again recently. It is good, for once, it is really good. We get along great and all, and things have been going at the right pace for me and he is respectful of that... the problem is he is going to want to know why I am the way I am... e.g. abuse issues. I don’t want to talk to him about it. It is so not that I don’t trust him, because I really do, but every time I have done this with a guy in the past he has either been really put off by it, or he has started to abuse me just the same way as if that’s like a free pass to do so.

n/a

I'm still alive

I am still alive, don't worry! Somehow I managed to survive the end of semester exams with my sanity in tact, and am feeling mighty glad they are finished but not so confident in the results! Oh well.

So here is the story with the whole Women's rep thing at school... They asked me to come back and do it, because a). they figured out that they HAD to have at least one Woman on the executive and b). the guys on the executive apparently can't handle it alone (haha is all I have to say!). So I am thinking about it, but here is the thing, and yes this is pretty pathetic of me, but the guys on the actual executive who are there already don't want a girl involved. I know, so screw them, but with all that is going on, as much as I desperatly want to go in there and show them I also do not feel like being in yet another toxic environment at a place I usually love going and find a lot of solice there.

n/a

Who have I become?

I don't know how it ended up this way.
I have stamps in my passport I don't remember... I went to Seattle more than once? I am just a small town New Zealand girl; we are not supposed to go anywhere. We are supposed to marry some so and so from the fire service and have kids and work twice a week in the bowling club so that the eighty year old residents of the town have something to cling to during the winter.

I have a big backpack that sits in the corner of my room all year round staring me in the face. I don’t have an apron or the "what to expect when you are expecting" book. I don’t want to trade my stethoscope for a bib and a year’s supply of diapers. I don’t need to be in some meaningless marriage. I don’t need props for having dinner on the table when some husband comes home from work. I want to work. I want to burn stuff because I can't cook and I want to live on noodles and rum, as though I am 20 forever.

n/a

Isolation

Somewhere over the last couple of years I earned myself the nickname "gypsy". I get it, I can't stay in one place, I like the rush of visiting a new city, standing in a crowd of a million people with the knowledge that not one of them knows anything about me, I like being invisible there, at least during the day, but then in the early hours of the morning in some run down hostel I always end up laying awake wondering how I can stop the feeling of isolation from ripping me apart. I don't get it.

Being alone has been a norm for me since I was a kid, I was always the loner in my family, and it seems to me that the more I expressed myself, and stood up for myself, the more isolated I became, some of that I cherish and some of it I hate. Feminism is one of those things, it can be isolating, it can be hard to express for fear of isolation, for me anyway. Especially in a community which supports abuse against women and pretty much encourages silence. In lots of ways I love it because it is an instant separator between me and them. People who I don't want to know or befriend or even try to convince that I have a voice in this damn community and I should be able to use it when I want to, and how I want to.

n/a

My life, My body

Just lately I have been trying to perform a whole bunch of turn around's in my life, I guess an easier way to say that is I have been reviewing my flaw's (which sounds terrible, but it has been anything but, more therapeutic than anything else). One thing that has come out of this is that I am at my best, happiest and most inspired when I am not living in New Zealand, and was at my most happiest when I moved to Canada for a whole year, even though that also involved a whole lot of regrouping and dealing with the stuff I left behind, which was not a lot of fun, but it was necessary to say the least.

n/a

n/a
Syndicate content