To The Narcissists of the Planet: A Few Words about Domestic Abuse and the outcome you do not expect.


This is being written on behalf of everyone, specifically women and girls, whose lives have been marred by the effects of someone elseʻs tiny sense of self and overblown idea of themselves

This is not another scathing tirade that I am choosing to go on, but rather and more truly a quietly observant one, if it can be called that (which I am sure it will be that by the time this is done being written, seeing as how this is one of those articles that is really, really personal for me) .

Those days and that energy is gone, as will be the moron who thinks it is funny to say, do, and say he will do things that will hurt other people.

While it was that just a few short years ago I might be that person who would do anything at all to just not have to deal with this guy anymore, or for that matter, the way in which I handle him now (I donʻt and if I do it is a phone call to PD that typically sets the balance back to what it is meant to be…please keep reading…) and is the complete opposite way that I did it before in the past, which was to eliminate the possibility of a fight.

I am no longer open to others being shitty to me, and more, to my only daughter, Grace. Because this is the truth, it is no wonder why her father is being horrible to her.

The fight, I find, is what may be needed, for the simple idea that without it, this guy and guys like him have no clue when the bullshit stops for us and on our end.

They wonʻt know that it has stopped because we will have changed the energy that would cause them to continue to believe that they have any kind of control over us at all and wonʻt be able to see it because they are only interested in making certain that the world feels their pain. To rid themselves of their own self-made pain, they bully others to the point of mental issues, which is what happened to both Gracie and I, but, is something that everyday, we are healing ourselves from being enslaved by. I had no idea that when I married her dad, that he would think that I was like a pet or a fucking charm bracelet.

And when that pet got out of line or that bracelet was not exactly together as much as he felt it should be, I got belittled, got berated, got “beat the shit out of.”

That is not what we were each and all born for – to be victimized, everyday of our lives, because someone else is horribly unhappy with their own selves and have likely always been.

Sometimes, it is the fight that actually kills the demon, because in my case and in this instance, the thing that I know will kill the demon is Love, for my daughter, my sons, my parents, my Self and the very many kids who frequent this house on the daily basis and who, themselves, some of them come from homes like mine where the dad is insane with his own perception of power and greatness and that the family does not see.

This is what is called a narcissist, and always abusers are narcissists – always. 

Always they are there to remind you of how they feel about themselves, and always they are there to tell us about their inner life and how ugly it is, all the way down to the very bones of their sorry ass souls. Abusers will always try to make their temporary pain something that you caused for them, because you refused to take their shit anymore. Abusers will always have a reason as to why they are behaving like a spoiled child who is going to behave like a petulant jackass until someone finally pacifies them. That has not been me for a long while, this pacifist, and it will not ever be my daughter. I did not bring her into this world so that her father could abuse the shit out of me for years, only to do the same thing to her.

I do not stand for it.

She does not stand for it. 

That bastard has no clue what he stands for, other than making people miserable, and really, there is no more misery that needs to happen here. She is strong and resilient, much like her mother, and she is wise beyond her years…again…like me.

I taught her well, and she is not letting me down, in any manner, not even when she is a shrieking mess of a little girl, the same little girl that he knows he can make come out of the closet of her dad not truly being the one who has her back. While I might not agree with my own father, I do know, now, that this man has always had my back – he would have to, because in terms of who I am, and how much I do not take shit from any motherfucker, I am Daddyʻs girl, hands down. There is a reason why the man has referred to me, on more than one occasion, as being his “weapon of mass biological destruction” and it was said because yeah – I am bad ass, I figured out, and this makes my only daughter equally as bad ass – she still has work to do, is only 19 but still…

she IS MY daughter…

…and I am taking full credit for her, taking on the role of single mom to my now legally adult daughter who everyday surprises me by her will power and her strength, strength that she would not have without my example. Sure, she might fall apart, but, what girl wouldnʻt if her father wrecked her birthday three years in a row, called her a fat whore and and then proceeded to pick on her friends – all because they would not do for him what he demands out of them, as if they do not have the right to tell him or anyone else “no”?

They are, she is, we all will continue to tell this person to go to hell.

What kind of sick person decides that, since it is that she does not agree with him, that the reason why he would call her names and think that we are just going to kiss his ass that somehow, we are going to get over it fast and that we are just going to do what he wants?

Oh..I know…a guy named John .

Typically, I wonʻt name names, but this time, for the sake of the idea that I know that there are several law enforcement officers on my Linkedin profile who are reading this, and since I know that also there in that site are plenty of people in the wheel and tire industry who will read this and think to themselves that eventually and one day, the world might actually have a true glimpse of this person who might also have been awful to them, and not continue to have to talk behind his back because many believe he still deserves that respect of his own abusive sins to not be made public….or perhaps because you are all too afraid of what he might do. I have no idea why that you would be that way – he is not what he presented himself as, and the only thing that comes to mind is not even the idea that you gotta keep protocol, but that you really do not care at all.

Donʻt get me wrong -I expect only that those in law enforcement from here to wherever will, from my own observation and experience and now watching this person do to her what he did to me and to see her not take his crap – you guys might get a real glimpse as to what it is that no one wants to deal with, or perhaps thinks is simply not too big a deal.

I promise, all of you, it is a huge deal, and the more that this happens, to whoever it happens to and whenever it does, and each time that you guys get a phone call about what to do about abusers, you might remember this writing and take it to heart because really, I am that research scientist in all things “mind” and “thought” and “jacked up abusive thinking”.

…I am that scientist who can tell you from experience that more – MUCH MORE – ought to be done, but that is neither here nor there at this moment in time.

Just please… please, please, please keep reading this. It is one of those important things that can become somewhat of a reference for anyone who has never been there themselves and then have to watch their only daughter in the fight of her young life in terms of who she is and how she feels about herself.

Let it be well known, right this moment, that when an only daughter chooses to refer to her father, in his face, after he has called her a fat whore, as being a bitch-ass, she means it and more than that – she is right, and it is no oneʻs business to tell her that she has to respect him by right of his being her sperm donor – I have this to say to you…the hell if she does. She is fighting for who she is to someone who does not know who he is and neither his own truth because that is the other thing about abusers – not only are they narcissists, they are also bitterly scared of looking like a fool again. They donʻt mind failing because the reason that they fail is because someone else made it that way, throughout the course of their lives, by handing them everything they wanted (it is called being a spoiled brat who has to have their way).

Hard work doesnʻt count when the job was handed to you by someone who you could easily manipulate.

In Johnʻs case, that person who he bullied was his primary bully and the very one who started it all, and really I do not care about who thinks it is wrong or bad that I out that whole lot of them….the late John Sr and both of his abusive sons….BOTH John Jr. and Steven, and no I do not care which, if any, of their own blood relations like what they are reading. For years I begged his family to help me, and no one would. You all just sort of chalked it up to my needing the help because I wanted to make him happy.


I didnʻt.

I wanted help paying bills that he refused to pay because his own abusive father chose to short him on his paycheck (that typically bounced). That Sr. did that is one thing, but that John chose to have a “ghetto rich” lifestyle is none of my doing – I never bought into the idea that a person waits til the last moment a bill is due, and really, I cannot figure out how the hell it is that a man decides that he is somehow the most important person on this planet, even after the idea that he is the reason – him and his habits and his lifestyle – THOSE ARE THE REASONS…not me and my only daughter as to why it is that he is penniless and about to be gone from our lives very, very soon.

I blame all those people who never ever helped me get out of this issue, knowing what I was going through and you still ignored my tears, my anger, my absolute fear of this man, for a long time. You guys did nothing, letting me and these kids swelter in the emotional hell of abuse, for years, only asking me if I was okay.

No I was not.

In fact, I am not, and neither is Jeremy, or Gracie, or Joshua…but, we are going to be okay, once I have, once and for all, rid us all of his ass – via restraining order.

To hell with this, to hell with him, and to hell with anyone who is reading this and doesnʻt like what you are reading – This is the truth, and the scathing truth at that.

When you are by yourself in what seems like an ocean of despair you will do what you have to in order to keep your children from harm and in my case the only thing that I could do was to literally stand in the way of his physical abuse so that nothing would happen to them. He denies this, but those kids saw it, all of it.

And what they now know of family is that at least their motherʻs family gives a shit, and at least their motherʻs other half also gives a shit and at least other people who share a last name with me but also like me are only that way because they made the mistake of trusting someone who they might have thought had their best interest at heart had anything but that gives a shit (hey Misty)….you all can also go to hell, because instead of helping me to get out of this issue and instead of helping me hide – you ignored me, and this goes of some of my family too – you all had a great time gossiping, acting like it was somehow easy to leave something that you had never seen before and something that you saw and had a glimpse of being right ….marriage….

The people who I saw my whole life stayed married, no matter what, and that was my only sin – that because I saw what it looked like, I wanted it to look like that, too, and well, it appeared that way, but was anything at all like those unions appeared as being. It was not long before, during that time in my life, I knew the truth about it all – theyʻd been lying to me all along, telling me through their actions that they were happily entwined only to know for real that they were keeping up appearances.

I feel like it was me and a few of my girl cousins on both sides of my family who were the very ones who were to bring this lesson to all of you – do not stand there judging us as though what we are or have been through is somehow your way of being above us because you felt sorry for us. We are not those types of women who anyone ought to feel sorry for and the reason we were abused is because we do no harm but we also take no shit.

It was and will always be the “take no shit” part that we live by. It is our creedstand up, stand firm and donʻt let anyone tell you who you are. 

I am only now becoming more that way and while it is that I would not be this version of me (the one that my guy now canʻt seem to stop saying lots and lots of beautiful things about) without all of that bullshit, and while it is that I would not be all the brainiac that I am now (and neither my daughter the bad ass makeup artist that she is absolutely becoming these days…) it would have been good for me to know, back then, that someone cared, and someone felt like my time and my life were worth the shit that lots of those people who also swore that they loved me might have actually done things to make me know it and no, I am not talking to or about my cousins who took me in when I had two black eyes and a need to cover a deep bite mark with a tat – I know who loves me, and who has always had my back.

It ainʻt any of those people whose lives appeared lovely, as much as that is what you wanted anyone to believe. I know the reality of an abuser, and it doesnʻt matter that you donʻt want to believe it but, lots and lots of us were abused, with impunity and glee, even, as they who abused made an excuse and referred to the whole idea that it is okay to “hit first and ask questions later.” 

I think not.

The only people on this planet who he might do anything to are me and Gracie – he fears men, secretly, because he ainʻt nothinʻ to sweat and he knows this much very, very well – just another wannabe italian prick who thinks by right of what he has thought of himself as – some sort of mafia gangster (whatever…gotta have some balls in order to be that and on that end, I am called “gangsta” all the time  – you gotta earn it, and no bully is ever going to be what I am – brave, bad-ass, smart and taking no oneʻs shit…better known as GANGSTA….I said it, and you know it, so deal with it- you canʻt be what you have not earned being, and in my exʻs case, my Gracie is right…bitch-ass is what any abuser is…) .

To all of you who are reading this and confused as to the idea of what you are reading here – let it be well known, as of this moment, that if you feel like you have been through what you have read here, and if you go through this regularly, you are currently going through what is known as being psychological and emotional abuse. I have gone through it for years, because the culture from which I hail, even as I love my culture, is not without its ugliness. In this instance, it is the fact that a lot of women in Hawaii and abroad who are of Hawaiian ancestry are like me and Grace – statistics of abuse.

I used to hate that it is like this but these days, by right of the idea that I am surviving and becoming a conqueror of this madness, I wear my “formerly abused” self on my sleeve.

My Formerly Abused Self –

…the Wahine Warrior that I have Become…that Gracie is on her way to becoming, that we ought to all aspire to being, on our own and by right of who we each and all truly are within….

I no longer buy the idea that in order for me to be someone of worth that I have to cower to my own or anyone elseʻs demons.

If what you have read appears to be very similar to something that you are going through now, feel free to contact me. I might not have all of the answers, but, I know that I know how you feel, and I know, too, what you have to do in order to not feel the way you do and know the way to get yourself through all of this.

It is called belief in oneʻs own self, and a belief in everything that is loving and good and kind and a belief that for everything that is painful and that we are not able to get rid of as fast as we know we would be able to get other things done, that these things are called lessons and you are the star student.  It is nothing more than the idea that at one time in our souls, we wanted to know who we are for real, and because of this, we had to be shown who we are not. When we found out who we are not, we also found out that there is something intrinsically valuable in the maladies of the soul that we are temporarily met with.

In my case, I needed to know who truly loves me, and I needed to not be so ready to allow people into my life, regardless of the reason that I would have to allow them into it. This is the lesson that my Gracie is learning, and the lesson that I know, when she is older, and she is making lots and lots of money, and her work is gracing the front covers of magazines all over the world, that it will not have been her father who got her there, at least not the way that he will, if he is even alive at that time, try to take credit for.

It wonʻt even be me who is allowed to do more than remind her that I am not the one who makes or breaks her, and hell no is it going to be the tiny-man-in-the-soul who she refers to now as “bitch-ass.”

It will be and already is herself, and she knows this, because she has watched me for almost two years now heal my own brain injury, through intense study of our neurological selves, which was caused by years and years of my having to hear what others have told me is the truth, and then years on top of that of my always and also being told to shut up, all the time, that I am able, now more than ever, to take on my own world and not look back.

This is the only lesson that she needs to learn in her life – that I was just, am just, outside of her boyfriend Tommy, her biggest fan…and more, that her father is just a lesson that she has to learn…

She will be fine. She is strong like the wind, deep like the ocean, beautiful like the stars, and of course, what Tommy refers to as being “The Baby Pineapple…”

It is a good moniker to have, seeing as how I am The older, wiser Pineapple to a Pucking Irish Guy…

The world is yours, and to hell with that guy, Gracie…to hell with the guy who you refer to as Bitch-Ass…Youʻve got this….

Indeed…go, baby, go !!





*The Rev. Kahuna Roxanne K. Cottell (#LosAngelesKahunaRox) is a writer, mom to Jeremy, Grace and Joshua, the #PuckingIrishGuys Pineapple, a NeuroCog student, research geek in the area of the Soul and how it survives, Crafty Teacher, and all around nice person. To contact her, click here 


Brainy Chicks Rule

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It is graduation time on the planet right now.

Ok. So maybe it is graduation time on the planet here in the USA. Doesnʻt matter – every year I go through this same thing, and every year I dream about my day when I graduate and move on to my Masterʻs program. Every year I watch my friends who have finished their degree program and every year, I am very dearly proud of the efforts made by students everywhere for everything that I know they have had to do in order to get that paper.

And yes, I know….the world is filled with people with big olʻ brains, and yes, of course, I am one of them. I also know that there are a lot of young men on this planet who also are very dearly intelligent.

What I also know is that the world celebrates a young manʻs accomplishments far more than it can even truly appreciate what it is that any woman goes through. Lots of people want to believe that we are weak and we have nothing in comparison to the guys. This is the furthest thing from the truth. The truth is that when a woman is very dearly smart…of the book sort…she immediately becomes a paradox – the world loves a brainy woman, but the world also is intimidated by one.

I know this.

I have been called intimidating, and yes – it has everything to do with my brain.

This is not about me, though, but about us all. All of us who will return to the halls of Academia in a couple of weeks (for me it is exactly ten days), and all of us who will be going into our lives, newly degreed and far more employable (so we have been told) but this is not about any of that, either.

Brainy Chicks Rule…

We do.

Yeah. I am one of those…brainy chicks…and I think I have had my fair share of covering that light of mine. This is not about a whole lot of what anyone wants to, or perhaps does not know that it wants to, tell me otherwise – we rule. In fact we rock and rule.

To my friends who are newly graduated, who are newly minted university students, and my friends who have been awarded with scholarships and nice words…this is for you…


To my friends who I have spent the last year and a half with and who are getting ready to walk at graduation – you rock, you rule, you fuckinʻ DID IT !!! I wish that it were me already, but, someoneʻs gotta stay back at MtSac…who else is gonna raise the roof and the standard if one of us ainʻt there? Hey…Trev? Yeah…you rule, lady. Congrats on your graduation coming this Saturday. It is too bad that you cannot RIDE YOUR MOTORCYCLE TO THE PODIUM, but girl you know I would love to see it. Congratulations, my friend…

..and Jen and Rosie and the other Jen from Mikeʻs class…while it is that Jen 1 and Rosie have graduated, Jen 2…we proved it girl…BRAINY CHICKS RULE…and yeah – you looked particularly witchy in your lovely black dress this past Saturday…you, too – YOU ROCK AND RULE…

Mekemeke, Ruth, Grace and Jervanna…yaʻll did it….you did it you did it you did it…and I did it, too. Nothinʻ like a couple grand to make a chick smile, yes?

And we smile because why? Cause we are those chicks…the ones who were given thousands of dollars because someone on this planet thinks that we are brainy, that we have what it takes to make a difference, because already , we do that – on its own and alone, the idea that we were awarded scholarships that were NOT AT ALL ANYTHING TO DO WITH OUR PLACE OF ORIGIN…it was based on effort, hard work, and the idea that tenacity is an everyday thing for us.

And Grace…I knew you were a bad ass but…wow….you are quite more the bad ass than you have ever been way too humble to take credit for being. My dear girl…swim in that luxury of knowing that youʻre a STEM chick…that kinda rocks….a lot. It would do this old broad a lot of good to know that you know this….

And to anyone else who likes to think of us as “sugar and spice” and all that other crap…think again. Brainy women are loathed by men in perceived power. We are the threat, the monster that they want to keep locked away in the closet of yesterday, where it was fine that they say what they want, to do what they want to do to us, and make us believe that we are not every bit as …super cool and groovy smart that we are. If this is what we are up against, then fine – it will be those like us, and perhaps even us, who are the ones who change the way that world thinks about brainy chicks.

We are not the geek girls hiding behind thick-lensed glasses, hoping upon hope that we will be picked out of all those other girls by the boy who is the most popular.

To hell with that guy.

You are not a booger. You cannot be picked.

He wants to be president one day and I want you to be president one day.

To hell with that guy.

That guyʻs grandfather wants you to get him a beer, give him the remote, have you play with various parts of his body, wants to slap your ass and call you pretty…and that is all fine and good but, that guy needs to know, too, that he has to get himself out of the bathroom that your silly smart asses have neatly locked him away in.

Go on out there, ladies, and do your thing. Donʻt make me proud, or your parents proud, MAKE YOU PROUD!

Come out of your shyness, and look at the light of day, and see your place on the planet as not only being who you were named as -BE PHENOMENAL, all of you, because even as the world loves a pretty girl, you will all know what is meant by the idea that the world fears a girl that is both pretty AND smart and in all of your cases – YOU ARE GORGEOUS AND BRAINY AND BRAINY CHICKS RULE !

OK…we have finals this week…just wanted you to think about HOW COOL YOU ALL ARE

…and to remind you, each and all…indeed…BRAINY CHICKS RULE !!

Somehow, some way every woman on this planet is a BRAINY CHICK but right now, yʻall are the brainiest of them all !!





We all have heard the phrase “Mother knows best…” but the one thing that my generation of women knows is the thing that theirs never bothered to accept…

We wonder why it is that too many women state that the men in our lives, from our fathers all the way to the boys who call us “Mom,” seem not to listen to us.

What you will read next, because the majority of women who would read a blog written by someone who is in her mid 40s either get it, in terms what they will read here today, or, because of what they are willing to believe, how they were raised, and their own experience with the opposite sex…lots will depend on how open that particular set of women is to believing that not everything that our moms taught our particular generation of women can hold its value in weight – at ALL.

Things your mom wonʻt tell you…because she simply doesnʻt want to…

….doesnʻt want to be wrong, doesnʻt want to piss you off, doesnʻt want to lose her power over her daughter as being the most influential woman in the lives of women who are in the same age group as I am. Call it whatever you want – reverse rebellion….getting a taste of our own medicine….no matter what you call it, the one thing that I call it is “lacking in anything useful in terms of having clarity, and more importantly, balance,” in relationship with the men in our lives, specifically the ones which we refer to as being the other half of us. In my case, the photo for this writing is the outline of my other half, a lovely human being and a very intelligent man named David.

Right now, at least in Davidʻs life, LOTS of crap is happening, and all of it is very harsh. This can cause him to have what I call “a snit.”

A snit is not quite a tantrum, and is not big enough to make the six oʻclock news BUT, it is big enough for us to get a fuckinʻ clue about what they are trying to tell us in those times when they are not exactly being what we want to think of as being “OK.” My David is not different. Yesterday, he asked me to “go” and this time was different because I chose to see him NOT with the eyes of the woman who loves him more than she loves breathing sometimes, but, a woman, period, and one who has had the benefit of having mostly men in her life from the time that she was a tiny little girl (Hi big cousin, Jimmy!! Indeed – you, as well, have been a very good teacher of all things “guy” all my life, and until David showed up to make this all very apparent to me, I was CLUELESS !!! Mahalo, cousin….)

Neither are my two sons Jeremy and Joshua, my father, Ron, my brother, Patrick, my daughterʻs boyfriend Tommy and the rest of the men in my life.

And for the life of our mothers, the very majority of us believe we know the things that the frustrated, overworked, under appreciated men in our lives are saying to us. Sorry, ladies…what comes out of their mouths is the truth, but it is being delivered in ManSpeak (and no, there is not one Manchick on this planet who knows what the hell any man is telling her when he is talking to them…being the  bitch in charge does not equate to being the bitch in charge who speaks ManSpeak….no matter what the hell any one of us wants to believe…keep reading…).

ManSpeak is simply the way and the vernacular that they use. A man will use certain words in a very different manner than we women will. This is not a wrong thing – it is a guy thing, and until we women are willing to finally listen to the men in our lives and STOP asking our moms what they are telling us, we will continue to be confused by them and blame them for not being clear with us.

And sometimes that is the truth, but that is only because they also do not know what the hell we are talking about lots of the time and they, too, like we wonʻt, will not ask us what we are trying to say…but David does, and so, do Jeremy, Joshua, Ron, Tommy and a whole host of them ….at least a little bit, because the one thing that I know I have bothered to do since David came careening into my life is learn how to listen from a different place.

Listening from a different place

By “learning to listen from a different place” I mean that instead of constantly telling a man – any man…even the ex….what we think they are saying (and then not giving them the chance to respond…because our moms told us that men have no idea what they are talking about….and if you believe that, then also believe the reason that you are alone is because you refused to listen to your man…rather your mommy) shut your mouth, open your ears, try hard to not have an opinion…and LISTEN!

Listen without having an opinion about what is coming out of their mouths. Remember that they are men, are guys, are going to discern things from that point of view and not yours, because they canʻt – and neither can we discern things from THEIRS. We can no sooner totally know what we are being told by any man if we are only willing to listen with the intention of having something to say back. That is what we all have been shown, us women in my generation – that men are not smart enough to say what they have to say and mean it, and that men are not able to communicate with women because they are cavemen and men are too…rudimentary…in their thoughts and their words and that they speak a different language than we do.

No, they do not.

What we are not getting, and what we were not taught is that men, by and large, speak the same words that we do, but they have a totally different meaning behind those very words. What sometimes comes across as them being angry with us is actually them just being angry. What comes across sometimes as them being completely unreasonable is actually us not understanding what they are trying to say (and of course we do not ask what they are trying to say BECAUSE IT IS USUALLY EXACTLY WHAT THEY ARE TELLING US) and more than that, we are in the wrong because most of the time, we are not talking to them, but our moms are. (you read that right – I said it. Deal with it. Your mom is not always right…ask your dad…keep reading…) The more that we defer to “that is what my mom told me” the more that we are allowing our mothers to dictate what they, themselves, were not able to dictate but were not willing to let go of the thing that THEIR moms taught them.

What their moms taught them was possibly correct, given at that time in our history it was a man who was totally in charge, and anything that they said to the women in their lives was the rule of law. Things, and men, are different these days in the way that they handle their selves and us. This does not mean that they are not still men. It means that they have a more openness about them that allows for us to know that they have learned a lot about women, even though they will tell us that they know nothing. In that wisdom we find out, too, that we neither know it all about what they are all about. In fact, on that level, we actually know nothing. We want to believe that we know it all, and we even go to the women friends in our lives to find out what another woman thinks, and that is what we have been taught to do – go to other females….(ugh….what the fuck is wrong with us???)

Thing is…we are never going to get the truth or the reason behind that truth if we always choose to go to another female, because another female already has HER opinions about men, no matter how well we get along with them – and I know this, because the majority of my close pals are guys, and because of David and those guys, I promise you that a lot of the time, when it comes to men and what they are trying to tell us, our mothers know as much as we donʻt, likely more than that, but again – they are never going to tell us this because again….they are our moms, and by right of how THEY were raised, we are not to call them wrong (for the most part), or tell them that we have a different manner of thinking about these things….keep reading…

The one thing that Sheila taught me that DOES apply…. e hoʻolohe mai….LISTEN !

Most women have been taught, all of our lives, that men are wrong. NO they are not.

What they are is …not us.

The funny thing is that, for all of our lives, we have been told that no matter what – no man knows what he is talking about, and that they are here to serve our purpose…again – no, the hell, they are not. They are not here for us to abuse, and not here for us to turn into our poster boys for failure of the human sort…and if this is how you think and believe, then I can only imagine what horrors there are that you have chosen, all by right of what your mommies told you about what she FEELS is the correct thing about men and all of their ways, that you have put the good men in your life through because you cannot let go of your mom being the be all – end all of men….really? (Ask your dad, ladies…I did….and that guy was and IS RIGHT!).

Your mom has and had only a limited clue…again, ask your dad, and when you do, remember that he, too, is a guy and that he is also going to discern what you have to say through that filter and not the filter that understands the reason why tampons exist, what the importance of chocolate is in the lives of women, and most of all, why it is that we make them crazy when we cry – it is NOT because they feel bad about the tears and the truth is that we are the ones who have to tell them why we are crying or else they are going to believe (not think, not assume…BELIEVE) that they are the reason why we are crying.

They know not the reasons why we cry are MANY and SEVERAL and it is not cool for us to hang that over their heads. It causes them to resent us and makes them say awful things to us.

We are not the ones who hold major sway in the lives of men. THEY ARE, and we are guests in their brain space UNTIL they make us full time residents there….and this is why I know I am okay to write all of this today, because I am a full time resident in the brain cave called “Davidʻs.”

When any man tells you what are the contents of his soul, and regardless if whether or not you can accept what he says, it is not yours to have an opinion about UNLESS it has anything to do with the social agreements that we have been adhering to all of our lives regarding our place in life, period. No actual man who can claim to be a man is going to want the world to know that he has scared the woman who he claims to love, enough so that she will not be all that she can be.

David tells me, sometimes without outright saying it, and based on the things that he has taught me over the years, that any man who does not see the value in the woman who he loves as being the best version of herself, and any man who steps in front of her dreams (because real men know that we have things we want to do and that they are not who are meant to do more than support us in our endeavors….no  matter WHAT your mom told you) is a punk-ass bitchboy. Period.  – Any real man with real dreams and a clue will not stand in the way of what he knows his other half wants, ever – to do so would mean that he is not everything, in that  moment, that he can be to her. More than that, at least from my vantage point, it could also mean that he is full of shit in terms of what he wants for himself. Conversely, any woman who steps in the way of her man, of any man, being everything he wants to be and wants to be WITH HIS OTHER HALF IN MIND, even if that includes his doing things that said woman has any negative opinion about  – please, negate your time as a teenager already. If your guy wants what is best for you and you keep telling him what your mom told you was right (it is called nagging, girls and we are all supremely great at it…) you are GOING TO lose him…because you do not care about what is important to him. In fact, you might not even know what is important to yourself if all you are doing is finding fault in his dreams.

Knock that shit off already. You are killing his Spirit. This is someone who you claim to love but that only tells a man that he is owned and controlled and well, we hate that shit…we hate feeling anyone else believes that they own or are allowed to control us.

And a little bit about your “white picket fence dreams” (and in my case, I do not have those…I have “life with David day-by-day ones” …) LOSE THEM BECAUSE THAT SHIT DIED WHEN YOU CHOSE TO LOVE A MAN….he cannot provide you with that. He can build the fence, build the house that is contained within that fence, but no matter what – HE CANNOT AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR DREAMS OF DOMESTICITY….because that shit, just like our ways of being, have changed.

Evolve, ladies….

Men want all those lovely things that we want…a life with us that is beautiful and includes us- their partners – in them.

That is how we see our lives – with them included, and no matter what your mom told you about “a man is a man is a man is a  man” what she is NOT telling you is that that energy is coming from HER experiences, and she is telling you what SHE went through but not totally what you have been through and neither what you will go through. You see, just like the guys do it – they look up to other men as their heroes and mentors (my hero is Princess Leia) – we also do it, and the way that we have been answering that call is to mollify our moms. They deserve it (because lots of us are moms, too and we, on that level, get it) but at the same time, what that has done to them is made them believe that they are above being wrong. What this has also caused is for our generation to do what we are phenomenal at, which is second guess our own intuition…all because this is what our moms were taught – to not trust their own selves.

…yup…trusting oneʻs own discernment is key here, and trusting what mom taught you is your reference point, but most assuredly NOT your own organic truth.

Indeed…please keep reading. 

Try me – go ahead and try me in terms of what it is that has been the truth in your life about men and then take a look back at what you recall during the course of your life when you listened to your mom about ALL guys.

They might be the same, but, they are also individuals, and placing them all into one group because your mom had a bad experience with one of them a long time ago does not mean that they are all bad – it means that your mom needs to get over it already ….perhaps give her an MMJ brownie…help her calm the hell down already about HER painful memories, and realize now that the ONLY REASON that she has been right is because you have been following what has been HER experience and NOT YOUR OWN.

And on that note- we all have those things called experiences.

And all of us will go through those things according to who WE are – NOT WHAT OUR MOMS WENT THROUGH.

In terms of what a man is thinking, your mom is not a man, therefore this means that she cannot know better what any man means than a man will. When you want to know what your guy means – DO NOT ASK YOUR MOM! ASK YOUR DAD because guess what? THAT GUY IS A MAN!

Yeah – I know…you donʻt want to hurt your momʻs feelings but, what do you think will hurt her more? The idea that you have a broken heart (because then you need her to help soothe you) or the idea that your man pissed you off (and some women will castigate the entire lot of them because one man chose to be human about things, did not think before he thought about what he was trying to say and now you are all ass hurt over it because you are still listening to your mommy….stop asking her – ask your dad things about men. (I do) (and David…I ask MY MAN about what is HIS thought….keep reading…)

Love Your Mom….but donʻt worship her – she is NOT the Goddess of Love or Men…

This is the part that is going to be the most difficult for a whole lot of us. Luckily for me, even though I did not know that my mom was NOT the bastion of knowing men as well as she thought she did (because she mistrusts them….and in her head this means that they are not smart enough to outsmart her….and this is also YOUR MOMʻS THOUGHT AS WELL…that is how their generation was taught…no, really…they were…keep reading…) and because I happen to love the one man who puts up with my crazy ass, I know how difficult we can be, just to understand, and more, how difficult we make ourselves seem to be when it comes to us and them – the men in our lives.

Our mothers are the reason why it is that we want to believe that men have no emotional lives, no feelings to them, nothing that makes them be as human as we are. It is stated that it is a strong man who can allow tears to fall, but make no mistake – it is not like they want us to know that this is their truth, because they are filled with this thing called Pride. It is a different pride than what we would take pride in. (Think about it). Men are proud about their legacies, and they are proud to be able to do for us what they are able to and NOT what it is that our MOMS told us that THEY (the moms) FEEL we are due.

Again…when talking about what it is that we as moms feel our daughters are due in terms of the guys in their lives we have to be careful to NOT pass on this wrong thinking that when it comes to relationships, we are the dictators (actually, we are the managers, but that is something for another writing entirely because it will take an entire writing to flesh out) – and this is how we come across, for the most part. We are the ones, according to a lot of them, who render them helpless because why? We are not clear with them about who we are – we make them guess and when we feel like they have not guessed correctly, we hold it over their heads like that is ours to do and it is not.

That is like them handing us a power tool, explaining to us one time how to use it (not that we cannot or do not or will not know how to use them – lots of us do), and then when we fuck that tool up, while they do not get mad at us…because in all of our girl-ness, we do not realize that there is a reason why their tools come with instructions that most humanoids can totally understand, but, only from our own biological point of view.

And this is not a sexist thing to state – if you feel this way, reread all of this and understand that WE PERCEIVE THINGS DIFFERENTLY and that in NO WAY am I even SUGGESTING that no woman use power tools…(I am merely telling us all that we do things DIFFERENTLY…keep reading…yeesh! )

What I am suggesting, though, is to keep your ears open to what is YOUR OWN discernment, and let your mom have hers, and when it comes to that point when you want to understand your man, do not ask your mom – ASK YOUR MAN and if you are not there yet then ASK YOUR DAD!

Just as much as your mom does not want you to get hurt by another man, your dad (hello? where are all the rest of my fellow Daddyʻs girls? Napua and I know ALL ABOUT THAT ONE.) has a totally different way of seeing things than does your mom. Your man has a different and very important way, if you intend on being with him for any significant amount of time, of communicating than YOUR MOM DOES. (Now that you have read all of this to this point…I am willing to bet that you are now wondering what the hell you were thinking all that time when you were told to think on your own…BY HER, NO LESS !!! )

You cannot keep running to your mom, or to other females, if you want the truth of ANY man.

Those women, while they may mean well, they are NOT MEN and if you want the truth about any man, you need to go to a man, and one whose words you can trust as being the truth. This is why I implore you – ASK YOUR DAD, or your brother, or your guy friends…yes, even the gay guys – because they, no matter how girly they might appear to be, are still men, and still will know way more than we will (ever wondered why our gay guy pals ask US about advice like they are our GIRLFRIENDS???? Think about it….doesnʻt matter because when it comes to being men, they are still human males…) in terms of what I call “ManSpeak” .

You may care to think of me as being sexist, possibly even a hypocrite because ya know….all feminists, no matter what, are meant to be man hating harpies, but that is neither the truth. You likely heard that one from both your dad and mom because this is what your DAD thinks about those types of women…and he canʻt help himself because that is what HE was taught by HIS mom (kind of get it now?). What the truth of feminism is and how it is being recreated by us is to include men in on it, because whether you want to believe it or not – men are some of the strongest voices backing our lives and our dreams and hopes up. Your mom is not telling you this.

Your mom is also not telling you that she, too, hopes that he is the guy that you see, through your own eyes and not what someone else tells you. Your mom wants you to be very happy, and your mom wants you to have the very best in terms of …well, everything, and this is why, through the things that she has experienced and by right of the generation that is hers, she proceeds with her daughters and her granddaughters in the manner that she does. This is because in her day, the things that we are able to do and think and take part in are now accepted by society.

And yes…my mother, the moment she first put eyes on him, knew, immediately, that David is that one guy for me. She knew this because she could see it in him, just how much he truly cares about and loves her firstborn child who just happened to be born “chick.”

With this in mind, it also makes sense that men are also this evolved, but that they are still the men in the opposites in the genders, meaning that what we have here is NOT a failure to communicate, but rather and only a failure to accept another way that was not handed to us as the be all end all of truth about men in general. For all of the ways that they do not understand us, there are dozens of other ways that they so badly and dearly WANT to understand us. For all of the ways that they piss us off, there are a million and one ways that they are, in the moment that this flash-point explosion happens, trying hard to (ready?) NOT GO AGAINST WHAT IT IS THAT THEIR MOMS TOLD THEM ABOUT US…and most of the time, their moms did not tell them -THEY LET THEIR SONS BELIEVE THAT WE ARE THE ENEMY!

This was not what I wanted for my own sons, and this is not, by right of what it is that I have shown them their entire lives and more, the idea that my other half, this lovely human being whose outlined image could very well be the model of who they all are, because really, he is who I have learned a whole lot about men from – this man named David who is my prevailing thought and has been for years and will remain to be for hopefully many more years.

The thing that I have learned the very most from them all, but, from primarily the ones who I have spent the very most time with, is that they want the same things that we want.

They want someone there to care about them, to listen to their hopes and dreams, and to also understand that they might not want to talk about what they perceive as being their “failures” even though we, as the vessels through which life passes, cannot see it the way that they do (reread that, superchicks – you do not know what they are talking about unless they point blank say what is in their heads to us…and even THEN we are not real sure, but that there – the unsureness…is all ours. It is called insecurity and no, they are not the ones who are meant to take that away but are those who are meant to give us a reason as to why it is that we need to get over it already, if they are who they tell us they are….)

So, basically, I suppose what I am trying to tell us all is because of that beautiful man whose image dances gorgeously, bathed in the light of the late day, likely on a Saturday afternoon, on a day that I probably needed something from the store and he was too chivalrous (or hungry hahahahaha….) to expect that I would go and get whatever it was that I needed from the store.

To him, that was his to do, is still his to do…come to my rescue….and he does it when he knows that I need it, and not when he knows that whatever is in my awareness that bothers me…I got it.

He knows this.


Basically what I am telling you is that he is not wrong, and you are not right, or maybe he is and you are, too, but also that this is not your chance to shove it in his face, at least not if you want to be with him for very long at all.

Basically what I am telling you is that the best way that you can deal with your own self in his life, in any of their lives, is to listen to THEM when you want to know about THEM and if you have to ask about one of them, even the ones who you know really well, let your mom keep doing her Sudoku puzzles, and go out to the yard where your father is likely doing that same thing with those same damned power tools that he did when you were a little girl and ask that man anything that you care to, specifically when it comes to men, because the other women in that manʻs life are not the ones that your mother fears will break him.

The other women in the lives of men are their daughters, and some of us are lucky enough to have these sorts of men in our lives, so that when men like David show up, you already know at least your half of the confusion, and your half of the confusion is easily made right if you just choose to do one thing and undo the other….

DO go ask your dad…and UNDO the habit of asking your mom

He knows


Any questions?






…because of them…

My three2

Celebrate daily, the joys that are hearing their voices call your name.

These are them.

From left to right…”Moshpit” … “Gracie”…and “Big Son”…he cut his hair…way more handsome now…she had her hair done….now it is more gorgeous…little man….he got himself a new smirk…all is well in skateboard land…


Without them, today, for me, does not exist.

True…I do not really celebrate these sorts of days, but I know that they do, and because of them, today exists for me. Because today is important to them, it becomes important to me, even though to them, they do not realize that they are not obligated to do more than what they are already doing, which is making me very proud, everyday, by just being their best, highest versions of their very lovely selves.

I love these three endlessly, like I know my own mom loves me. I cannot get excited about what I call “greeting card holidays, ” but, for them, I make it matter, because they exist…

Because of them I know what it feels like to have received not one, but three different macaroni pieces of jewelry – and because of them, at one point in my life, I owned the whole set…necklace, bracelet, earrings.

Because of them, I get to sing really badly on their birthdays, I get to worry about if they are going to like what they got for Christmas, and I am going to wonder what it is that they want for the other holidays, the ones that they tell me, just like I have told them for years, that I do not observe.

me and my big kid

Because they exist, I know what it feels like to panic when I get a phone call, a text, an email that states that they need something, that it is important, and then when I find out what it is, and that it is not life or death, I am grateful that they know that they can call me, trust me, know that I am here for them each.

Because they exist, I know that I am way out there, am not the mom who their pals have and call their own moms, and because they exist, I know what it is like to be needed, then happily not needed, because I taught them to depend on their own greatness.

grace jeremy graduation day gracie

Because of them, I know that I am this me, the one who aids and assists, and the one who deals with their darkness, and the one that is always there for them, even at 3 AM. I know what it is like to care, deeply, endlessly, until there is nothing more to do but to bask in the righteous glory that is being their mom and knowing that there is, in their eyes, no one else quite like me, or in mine, like them.

I know that there will never come the day when they tell people that they hate me and that they mean it. I know that there will not ever be the day when I am not the first one to know about any of their accomplishments and I know, too, that they know, for good, forever, that I have their backs.

They know, and I know, that no matter what, it is because of them that I get to wake up one day, every year, until there is no breath left in my body, today is not only to celebrate me, but, celebrate me, but because of them.

To every mom on the planet who does not celebrate this day, but for whose children never forget to….

…Happy Mother’s Day…






…like Joan did…

Gracie 3 yrs old auntie misty's wedding

I want my Granddaughters to know….

“I want my granddaughter to know that I fought against an evil tide and had the masses by my side. When all of these things are accompanied by music, every genre, the fight for a better world, one brave step at a time becomes not just bearable, but possible and beautiful. Thank you….”

(Joan Baez, 2017 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Induction Speech)

I am not a musician, but I have shared my entire life with them…from my grandfathers, to my father, my uncles, cousins and brother….mine is a very musically inclined lot. And of course, my other half is also a musician, and my only daughter, Gracie, also loves a musically inclined young hero of a man whose name (fittingly, as in the song by The Who) is Tommy.

It might make a lot of sense to a lot of people when they read this that I would choose the one and only Joan Baez to help me further my madness with teaching human females to be exemplary human females, and more, to teach them that they are equal to their brothers, their fathers, their boyfriends, their coworkers and fellow students. I want all of the young girls and women on this planet within reach of my words to understand a very important thing – your heroines matter, ladies.

And by that right – are you aware of who you look up to and why you look up to them? What is their energy and what is their passion and most of all ladies – what is it that can be called “the good fight” for these women?

I have lots of heroes…Carrie Fisher as herself and of course – one cannot forget the beloved General Organa Solo….none other than the Princess, her royal and loyal highness….Leia. Yet another one is absolutely Elizabeth Warren. There is Lisette Flanary (the very one who let the world know all about Hula and being Hawaiian on the 9th island), and Aretha Franklin (Yes -ARETHA…who else would make that word Respect such a big god damned deal other than a woman?) and I could go on and on…

…but there is only one Joan.

Only One Joan…

Okay my own life, there is more than only one iconic woman in the list of women who, throughout my lifetime, have been unwitting mentors to me. One of them, as you each and all know, if you read this blog or you follow me on Facebook, is Joan Jett (but of course she is).

The other one is the one and only Joan Baez.

And it is not because of more than the idea that she was the Maiden when the world first met her, filled with hope and fire and every good thing in her head towards making this world a better, more equal and peaceful place than it was, than it is now. Like we all do, she was fierce as the mother, and now, in her time as the icon honored by the world for her offerings of peace and equality through song…She Is The Crone.

It is not because she is sort of….stock and standard…in terms of iconoclastic women who have served as examples in terms of Chick Wisdom…that thing called feminism.

It is not because she is rich or famous, not because she is a musician…

It is because she means every word she says, and that is enough for this Chick to have nothing but the deepest respect for a person. It is much more so because I have a daughter.

The Little Girl in the photo above…

My three2

The little girl in the photograph that you saw first is my then 3 year old daughter, Gracie.


That is my Gracie in her graduation cap and gown, with her brothers….Joshua, to her right, and Jeremy, to her left. This photograph is not just telling the world that she is the only girl, but that she is loved, cared for, respected and cherished, that she met a milestone in her life from being a high school girl to a young woman in the world whose life is bright and beautiful ahead of her. No one human and male in her life has made her believe that she is incapable of doing her life the way that she sees fit to, which is the way that I have shown her to be then entire time that she has gifted us with her presence.

She is one of my very finest creations.

Yet, because she is a girl, she already had challenges built-in, and none of them were hers prior to her being born. All those challenges come along with being born female.

We are born with the issue that is as long and inborn as is recorded history. We chicks have been thought of, as is evidenced to us with this current US administration, still, as being lesser humans than any male is. (Note that I wrote “male” ….a real man will not ever tell or make any woman feel as though she is lesser a human being than he is, ever).

The thing that no one thinks about is what it took for us to get to this point in “woman-history” is that it has been women who are still alive and well within our consciousness, and women who, even as they are not the picture of youth that they were all those years ago, the fire of change still burns within and in this instance where it is that I am here and writing what it is that I want for my granddaughters to learn is everything they must in order to know what their mothers, and of course and especially the women who are my age – their grandmothers – had to go through, had to experience, had to meet the challenge of, had to survive and conquer.

I want them to know, down deep in the bones of their souls, that the things and rights that they enjoy, now in this day and age, were not what they think it is, and that there were many who came before them who challenged the powers that be, got in the face of the status quo and made it known, in a metal-horns-up, loud and proud manner that we are braver than the world wants us to believe that we are, that we are stronger than we were just a few short years ago, and most of all, it takes the village that Clinton told us about to keep the children safe, but, indeed, it is the strong women… The Grandmothers….The Tutu- Ladies… who broke ground in terms of our rights and our equality…

It will be the women who have hands that are filthy with the stains of fighting for equality, and women whose souls are scarred and marred with the collective of abuse that was heaped on our heads, that is still heaped on our heads and that there are a lot of other unenlightened women who are holding the shovel.

It will be the daughters of mothers who were not, who are not, who will not ever be willing to let the world continue to believe that we are weak and unable to do for ourselves what the unspoken lies of gender inequality has and still serves us with now. It will be the young ladies on this planet, the ones like my daughter Gracie and her pal Nathalie, my nieces, my hula haumana, my hanai niece, Emily, and all of those hopeful, still “undamaged by what is not love” fellow female students of mine at school -it will be these women who have, to this point, learned from us, their mothers, as we were taught by those who are now the Grandmothers in our midst…who are now the same caliber of human female being who carry that same electricity, that same energy as Baez, Warren, Franklin and Flanary….and who the most of those young women refer to as “Mom.”

…and it will continue to be those of us whose only mission in life is making certain that the next level of game-changing women are raised to know that they are strong and mighty and able to effect change in this world, one person at a time…and hell yes…all by their lil’ ol’ selves.

It will come to them by surprise, and not by surprise, these things called opportunities to change the world, starting with them.

It is up to the mothers of the planet…me and you and Amber and Dannie and Waipuna…it is up to Jewels and Angie and every single one of my other friends who are also mothers of daughters to impart onto them the wisdom that is Being Chick.

It is not easy…this thing, this energy called Being Chick.

It won’t ever be.

This is the thing that we train ourselves with, the thing that is the noose around our necks and the one that the powers that think they be want us to believe is the only way that things can or will happen for the population of little girls, young women and even the old chicks like myself….by sacrificing ourselves at the altar of the unenlightened populace that wants us to believe that the only place we belong is paying homage to a god of the male persuasion who wants to keep us on our knees and it ain’t only to pray to the god that my mother swears loves us all…

I am pretty sure you get what I am saying…

Get on out there in your world and do shit to effect change…

….just like Joan did…and just like she still does.



The Definition of Respect



According to Merriam-Webster’s New World Dictionary and Thesaurus, the definition of respect is as follows:

1 – To feel or show honor or esteem for

2 – To show consideration for

3 – expressions of regard

4 -a particular detail

5 – reference; relation to

Women, in general, have been taught throughout history that because we are not upper-body strong, that apparently we are weak, all the way around.

Ladies, it is in the things that we think make us weak that actually make us strong, and the reason that I say this is because there are so, so very many of us who feel like there are some people who, by right of whatever it is that we want to hang on to as a belief that we have held on to our entire lives (myself, from time to time, included) feel like we need to….allow anyone else to (gulp) show us disrespect.

This is not something that we all do not know about, because let’s face it – women have never been more empowered than we are right now at this time in history. There are still some of us who feel like a big scary, perhaps even physically violent show of strength is the show of strength that we worked towards having in ourselves and in our lives.

The truth of the matter is that the strengths that we have within us are there because we were willing to go through the pain and NOT because we allowed anyone else, no matter who they are, to disrespect us.

When we are willing, over something tangible, to allow someone else to disrespect us, we are not in our power.

In fact, we are not anywhere near where we want to believe we are. We are, at that moment, when we are failing to our lesser, lower-vibrating energetic selves, failing, period. When we think that we owe anyone else, for anything at all, and we feel like that tangible thing is more important than is our self-respect, and we choose to make it so that the material worth of things that have been loaned to us, given to us, and were done so that for whatever reason we have – when we think that somehow, we have to trade our sense of self-respect for the purpose of paying a debt that we have created and that we owe to someone else, and we allow those people to have more power in our lives by right of their doing things for us or anyone else, and we let ourselves believe that we owe them – and they have not stated so or even let on that we do…

…it is the biggest, most public show of disrespect for ourselves that we can ever silently scream…to anyone, but mostly to our very selves.

There is nothing more terrible to me than to hear any woman at all say to me that they feel like they owe anyone at all everything and every bit of who they are, all because they feel like they have been given something so needed that they will give who they are little thought and consider themselves as being of lesser importance than the THING that they were given.

It is nice thinking that everything is just going to be for any of us at all, some sort of faerie tale, some sort of nice thought about things that we do not even believe because we cannot believe it, and we cannot believe it because we have not been shown whatever it is that we are expected to give – we have no idea what that looks like. Go back to when you were a tiny little kid, and how it was that respect for women was shown.

The likelihood was that the show of respect for the women in your life, in all of our lives, was not that great. I can recall feeling horribly disgusted by the things that I had seen and heard as a kid, but, because I was a kid, I had no idea what was going on within me.

Fast forward to now, and I know too well what I was experiencing. It was something that I could not even begin to think was going to happen to me or in my life -the ultimate show of disrespect that any man can show any woman, specifically the women he calls his wife, and more, the very same woman who bore his children – this man was the man who fathered my three amazing kids – Jeremy, Grace and Joshua.

I became a statistic…a violent one, at that….

I cannot expect another person to be able to get it when I tell people what my life was like for twenty-five years.

While not going into specifics – it was harsh, and horrible, and I cried a lot. Everyday my heart got broken. Everyday I was told how awful I am. Everyday I was called names and everyday I wanted to die. Everyday for a long set of years I lived in a hell that I would not ever have dreamed to create for myself. Yet, it happened.

I cannot take away the experiences and neither the way that others, even those closest to me, will handle the way that they handle their life turmoils. I will be the first one to tell anyone that we are not going to deal with things that are similar that happen to us, that also happen to others, that are scathing and ugly and harsh and lives on within our minds, memories and thoughts in the same manner…these are the things that we each and all argue with, for the rest of our lives, if we are not going to let it all go and no longer have any kind of control over who we are.

Having control over who we are is different than having control of what we do, because having control over what we do automatically makes it so that someone else has control over who we are. When you are in the middle of all of this kind of craziness, you automatically do not know what to do because you have never been taught how to NOT do this.

Unless you know, you truly do not know…

There are a few people who are reading this right now who might believe that this is about them, or directed at them, and that is not the truth. The actuality is that I have been thinking about a few things for these last couple of days that affected me in a way that it has always but this time, it made me think about the answer to the following question:

“Are you sure about how much you know the truth about your own definition of what respect is, and more, what it is not, specifically the sort that is for the Self?” 

For a lot of us, we think that having respect for ourselves as having the ability to get rid of the thing or the people who disrespect us. What makes it very different is the idea that someone else is going to perform, or at least are saying that they would, an act of violence on another person, all on behalf of you…is that the reality is that anyone who would commit an act of violence upon another, for the benefit of someone they love….that is a misplaced energy of respect and is very misdirected. Even though the thought is what counts, anyone who would think to use violence to cure what they assume is a problem that, via gossip and contextual bullshit, is taken as something that it is not – those people are not operating in the manner that is trying to be better than you were yesterday.

More people on this planet want to believe that the cure to violence is more violence, and after all that was said, and all that did not offend me, the one thing that hit me wrong was the idea that someone else has a better idea of what I ought to do in terms of getting out of a bad situation that they, themselves, would not be in.

Of course, we cannot call it in terms of what situations we end up in. If we are lucky enough to have people in our lives who will understand that what they went through during the course of their lives and was similar, and what you went through during the course of your life that was similar..while it was similar, perhaps even the very same thing….the two of you were and will always be different, meaning that the same things on the outside are very different in the inner world of two different individuals.

The bottom line, in case no one gets it – no one who has experienced violence for the better part of their lives is ever going to condone violence as an answer as violence having been experienced by another person. No one who has been treated violently is ever going to be okay with violence begetting violence on anyone’s behalf – specifically mine, specifically anyone who has been the victim, then the survivor, and the conqueror-in-the-making…I am said and such conqueror.

Because of this…I handle things differently.

I handle things my way.

Hands down – you will handle things differently.

This means that your pain and how you deal with it or do not deal with it is going to be different than anyone else will. This means that you will not be able to do things in the same manner that anyone else will, and this also means that the level of tolerance that any one of us can have towards offering ourselves up to the gods of trading our souls for tangible needs being met will be very markedly different and will be connected to the things that you were shown as a kid and that you were told were normal.

In my life and at my house, as a kid, while discipline was had, it was not abusive (at my house, with my parents, that is), and my parents really did not do this whole one’s sense of self respect for the conditional love and approval. My mother would have never taught me that lesson, ever, and she would not have because she was very good about making it clear to me that I was not for trade, at all.

This is the same thing that I taught my own daughter, that my mother taught my sister. To this day, my mother lives, wears, breathes, eats self-respect. She cannot function otherwise.

Neither can I.

David would never have it that way.

He would never understand why it is that I would sell my strong and proud self out so that someone else – anyone else-  can feel how they already feel – which is, by right of their material means and worth, is way more than I ought to feel about myself. And yes, his opinion of me and who I am matters a whole lot. He would not be as crazy about me as he is if I were not this me. He would never accept it if I sold myself out for the sake of anyone else’s sense of power over anything or anyone, primarily me.

So would my only daughter.

My daughter would be abhorred by the very idea that all of her life, I have taught her to think for herself, that she does not have to agree with everyone, not even with me, if it is in her heart to be who she is for the benefit of her own emotional well being. I would know that I did my daughter no kind of service if I showed her that I would sooner sacrifice who I am for the sake of someone else having helped me out. I would sooner throw myself to the mercy of the Goddess of Shame than I would ever have my only daughter see me in a position of chosen weakness, and a weakness that she has watched me kill over time. All of her life she has only seen my fight against the things that hurt my soul, and just because I could not get out of a bad marriage in accordance to what anyone else tells me that they would have done – those people don’t know that, and those people are not me and those people DID NOT GO THROUGH WHAT I WENT THROUGH and no…no, I will not ever allow it that others think that I am using my situation to take advantage of anyone.


That is not the way that I am.

Anyone who knows me knows that this is the very truth of me…

I am also not someone who is ever going to do thing another person’s way, because those people are not me.

They do not have the same thoughts that I have. They are not the ones who make or break my life in terms of what their opinion is of how I have made it this far without hurting someone else. What anyone who has an opinion or wants to tell another person how they made it out of their scathing times – those people need to stop projecting what worked for them on to anyone else, no matter how close those two people are – those people need to NOT forget that they are not everyone, and everyone else is not them, and and in that manner, I cannot do things the way that other people do.

I can’t.

 I won’t.

I did things the way that other people wanted, for other people, and never for my own benefit, for the bulk of my life, and let me tell you what, ladies – it does not work out to your advantage.

It does not make you a better person to these people who you do things for and who do not do those things in return, namely love you for real.

It does not make those people, by means of your lessening who you are so that they can stay in a false sense of power, better than you just because they helped you out. You are not meant to be in servitude in this lifetime, and you never were. You were never meant to be lesser than anyone else just because someone important in your life made it seem that way. It is not the truth. You are your own truth, and not what anyone else’s opinion about you and how you do your life is.

It does mean that whatever anyone else had to do in order to get out of their own turmoil is going to work for anyone else. That anyone else will take away the part of another person by telling that person that if they themselves can do something, then anyone can, because everyone on this planet does things the same way – which is always their own way. My way will not ever work for someone else. My methods for healing my own life are mine to choose, and no one has the right to tell anyone else that the way that they got out of their problem was easy, and so why can’t I do it that other person’s way?

We are supposed to save ourselves, that’s why

I do not know why it is that people think of me, to this day, as a ‘princess.’ David would tell you, my kids would tell you, my parents would tell you that I am anything but this sort of woman. Truly, I am not one who needs to be saved from anyone. I might be small and might appear to be fragile but that is just my condition speaking for me at those times.

I am still all in my head. I just have things to do that are not the same as the rest of the planet, and I am not expecting the rest of th e population of the planet to do more than merely respect that I and everyone else on this planet who is a human being will do things to their specifications and not the way that someone else was successful in theirs.

I do not know why it does not occur to people that perhaps the thing that anyone else is going through is meant to be difficult, because that difficulty is making them be who they are supposed to be.

I have been told again and again that there is no one who they know who is stronger than I am, and guess what? I had to go through a whole lot to get to this point in my mind.

I had to survive things that not a lot of people end up as sort of sane as I am right now, and not a whole lot of people would be like I am right now, with this fucking condition, and have the right mind within them to be able to state that I will NOT take the poisons that I have been prescribed because I am one of those people for whom the side effects happen. The problem with human beings is that we are so damned all about ourselves and not in the good way that when someone close to us presents us with their issue, and that someone doesn’t have anything to do other than share with anyone else the things that are in their hearts right now, and without asking for advice – the last thing that any human being who is operating from emotion rather than from critical thought is going to do is be rational.

It is irrational, in my opinion, that what two people experience and that is the same is going to be perceived as being the same thing by them each. It might be the same thing technically but it is not going to be handled the same way. People are different and have different ways of dealing with things. I do not handle things the way that others do. When I try someone else’s way , I fail and it is not a manner of failing better in any manner at all. This is the reason that, I believe, we women hate on each other lots more than we pretend to love each other.

We pretend to care, when really all we want to do is mom someone else, and the reason that we would believe that we have the right to mom anyone else is because we do not realize that we are without control in that area of our life. We do not realize that we are, in the heat of the moment, giving to this person who we want to help, the indicator that we are in need of the help we dispense to anyone at all.

We pretend to agree and when we are done agreeing we go and tell the rest of the hags what the other person who did not take our advice and was not appreciative of the help we were given that sounded more like reprimand for breaking rules that were set by dead people and said that women have to volunteer to be disrespected if we are to be respected by others. Here’s some news- that only gets you more disrespect…

My closest friends all know that they can tell me when I have done or said something that is not exactly nice.

My closest friends also know that I have been through a whole lot, and when you have been through a whole lot, you tend to wear that energy.

When you wear that energy, if you are a person like me (a healer) you tend to want to see yourself out of things (so that when someone else who is barely where you were about twenty five years ago is now in that abusive energy you can tell them how you did it WITHOUT expecting them to do as you have) and when you need some help you ask for it (and don’t be shocked when you DON’T get it).

When you do not get that help and you find out that others have told your story and you are not there to make clear what it is that you, yourself have gone through and that still affects you, and those others who you know mean well begin to do to you, through no thought about it and only through the patterns of behavior that they have displayed for the bulk of their lives and you see this behavior throughout the group – and you are the one who has chosen to no longer be what anyone else expects and you choose, instead, to do things your way because doing things the way that others thought you ought to never truly worked and only made you more soul-sick…you start to tell yourself “fuck those guys….they are not you…rock on, Preacher Mama…rock the fucking fuck on and fuck anyone who expects you to conform…money bet that they would not do the things that you did BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT YOU and cannot possibly do your life better than you can…so go on out there and KEEP ON DOING YOUR LIFE…period…”

The Definition of Respect

The definition of respect in the energetic manner is best left to those who live their own lives to the best extent that they can.

I happen to be one of those people.

The definition of respect, at least in my life, is the ability to live and let live, to allow others to learn their lives without my judgment, even if I am their life coach. My definition of respect is letting people be who they are, and allowing them to get out of the situations that they have been encased in for years, through their own means and manner of doing things, and through the energy of their own Soul, even if that means that they need a bit of guidance.

We each and all have different things that we are here for. Our purpose is not everyone’s business, and neither is it anyone else’s to have say so over when it is that the only thing that we need is a set of ears and a heart that receives the information and only doles out love and compassion, rather than vitriol and the idea that we alone are who is going to exact anything onto another, no matter who they are, for the purpose – NOT of helping someone else, but only for the purpose that is giving one’s own self positive and physical proof that they are, by means of something outside of themselves and is tangible and brings harm, empowered by material means…

I am sorry but, if I gave the impression that mine is the violent type energy, the type of soul that would bring destruction rather than wellness, compassion and understanding, then either I have not shown anyone well enough that my being very good at getting loud and mad does not equate to my being violent.

The last thing that anyone who has been through violent things wants is to hear that violence will again be part of their lives, even if it is that the actions being told will be taken are not the actions that I, myself, would ever enact…

The biggest show of the definition of self-respect that I can possibly give to myself is to simply not ever forget that my way of handling things and anyone else’s way of handling things are two different things. I will not ever hold it over anyone’s head, the way that someone chooses to care about anyone else. namely me.

I will state, however, that the idea that women need to be violent in order to gain some respect from anyone else is absurd.

We are women…we bring life into the world, meaning that we give life, not take it.

Think about it…



To Thrive, Go Ancient…


I cannot be the only human female on the planet who is willing to give away her secrets for staying fit…

…or maybe I can be.

It doesn’t matter – health and wellness is not something that ought to be kept a secret from anyone. Health and wellness is something that all of us need to strive for and all of us truly will be better at this life thing if we each and all just choose to thrive. We each and all have reasons to want to thrive and we each and all are pretty damned cool, for no other reason than that humans are cool, period.

Okay…so being human is cool…

Admit it – if it were not for all of the crappy things that happen to happen in our lives, we would all thrive. Yet, the thing that I have come to realize is that we need the crappiness, at least in some fashion, so that we will recognize what is NOT crappy.

We want crappy things to be cool things, but, most of us are not willing to do the work. This is where we women, at least a lot of us, go on the “wish” diet and the “wish” fitness plan and more than most of us end up giving up, drowning ourselves in a goopy mess of ice cream that tastes like our tears…and that ain’t cool.

What IS cool, though, I will absolutely admit, is when a woman who is young enough to call me Mom is astounded, not only that I do not go to the gym, but also that I have managed to do it my way for a long time and in that long time, have typically been in top shape.

And yeah…hell yeah…ALL of them wanna know the answer to the question “OMG! What kind of workout do you do to have those arms? I have never seen such definition…”

It is not a secret, folks…I simply “Go Ancient”

I post a lot of my Hula photos and it is not because I want to show off but because I want to make a point – this is my dance. It is the dance and the activity that Hawaiians are most noted for. It is a dance that is as ancient as Hawaiian history itself, and it is the thing that, for many years, and now including my other half, that has made me thrive.

One day, though, a bit over a year ago, I injured my knee. Hula is danced no na kuli, or “Of the knees.”  You can imagine the panic that this gave to me. It took me all this time to understand the importance of this dance as more than only what it is for a lot of people. For me it is medicine and the kindest sort of all – the kind that is natural ad brought about by one’s own efforts. I have danced and loved Hula my entire life long and it is the thing that anciently, we Kanaka Maoli are known for.

Going Ancient…

Lately, I have been working primarily with women who want to become who they are meant to become, and as luck would have it, I am only and now working primarily with two different age groups: women my age, and women who are college aged (myself, and my daughter, respectively). One such person is my former sister-in-law Misty.  She is a mad-woman with my Awareness Training for Women who want to know more about how to use the Craft in their everyday lives and living. She is taking to it like I took to school, which is also something that, through this training, she has discovered that she is also looking forward to – the chance to round out her training with something else included in it. Misty wants some sort of education, so she has chosen to go to one of the local colleges in the area to complete her hours towards a license in skin care. She already has a license for massage therapy. Now, she is learning about the thing between the ears and its purpose in all of this…Craftiness stuff…

Yet, that is not what I am teaching her – when I took a look at her pictures from the time that she was a child, Misty had the Soul of Magick, and Had the Power within to bring her to this place where she is now. Which, when you think about it, she actually manifested ALL of it…including me. She manifested it probably around the same age that I did (about 7), which was also the time when I just sort of knew that I was different than the rest of the kids in my mom’s family. It was not that we truly hated each other but that we simply were just NOT each others’ kinds of people. I am able to accept this now, able to move apart from the emotions and the energies that brought me to become this me at this point in my life. The reason that I would tell this story about how I stay fit is because it matters.

In fact, it all matters.

All of everything that we each and all have been through during the course of our lives are things that, if we are manifesting our highest best selves and are willing to learn and to change, will happen. One of those things that I hear a whole lot about, because I primarily work with women who are interested in opening their Awareness more and who are interested in actually learning what is their own personalized style of living and using the Craft, I am that very one person, that one life coach who, right this moment is sort of coaching the young women of the planet.

And I am talking to the ones who want to be fit and in shape, but, who are so not interested in going to the gym – I get it girls….no one wants to be looked at as if they are someplace for any other purpose or person than their damned selves. No one blames you if you do not want to be anywhere near what has become the new pick-up hot spot, according to what a whole LOT of young men and women who I go to school with have told me…then ladies, do as I have suggested that lots and lots of you young women do, and go with your ancient selves.

Our Ancient Selves…

What I mean by this, in terms of one’s “ancient selves” is that, if we turn to our ethnicity, to our culture, we will find out not just how we are built, but more – we will find out how best to take care of ourselves according to what is culturally correct. What I mean by this is that each of us comes from a different place culturally, and because of this, we have been raised within the boundaries of that culture. It makes little sense to someone like me – someone who connects a person with their ancient selves so as to better their current lives and to build their own future from the past – for anyone to go with what seems to be the best thing for anyone of us.

We are not, obviously, a one size fits all buncha people. We are different. In our lives we like to make certain that we are the original real deal as ourselves. As ourselves, we are not the person who we are in that moment, but also, all of our ancestors…we are connected, always, to our antiquities, to our ‘Aumakua , to our lineage. Within that lineage, there is a certain….rhythm….a body clock that is of the collective, of the tribe, of your own Ancients.

Think back, girls…what was it that your grandmother did, and what was it that you recall your own mother and your aunts doing? Look to your ancients to find out what is best for you.

I come from an indigenous people. My ancients, my own ‘Aumakua, both living among us and those walking among the Spirits – all of them did things a certain way, including keeping themselves in shape – the world was a different place in ancient times, and in ancient times things were not so easy as to just get in a car and go to the local gym – people actually had to innovate, had to think about how it was that they would live longer, that they would do in order to thrive.

I Thrive

I thrive.

I do so by walking daily, by being grateful for every tiny little cool thing in my life. I do so by meditating and by remaining aware in my thoughts as they apply to the outer world, and most of all, I do not deny my Ancient Self.

My Ancient Self wants to dance, and my Ancient Self loves to tell stories with her hands and my Ancient Self awakens to the gentle strumming of slack key guitars, becomes excited by the sound of the ‘ipu heke gourd drum.

My Ancient Self does not see a hill called Temple Avenue, but only an incline that, at one time in life, perhaps my Ancients climbed these very same sorts of hills, perhaps steeper, and still, they Thrived. They Thrived through the elements, thrived even as they would run for their lives from the threat of being eaten by a wild animal or sacrificed in honor of a deity. My Ancients danced to the moon, danced in honor of the Sun and for the Love of the Sea and everything that has been born of it.

My Ancients lived off of the land, shared everything that they grew and lived among one another in peace and harmony and within accordance to the seasons.

We have, as a people, as humans and as a race, made it too easy on ourselves to become that which anyone of us can deem as “fit.”

And fit for what? Have you really ever thought about what it looks like inside of a gym? Now don’t get me wrong – there are people who are very well suited to those places, but a big number of us are not. We would rather not share ickiness with other people we do not know by touching things that their sweaty strangeness has come into contact with. If this is your thing great…but it is not for us all. I know for sure that not all of us are meant or would like to go there.

So don’t.

Don’t follow other people.

They don’t know what you are all about and you don’t know that you are going to fit in with those others. When we are talking about who you are, being healthy is one of those things that matters. When we are talking about being healthy and things that matter the last thing that anyone who does not consider themselves as being fit (in the manner that the rest of the world wants us to think it is) needs is to go to a gym where there are “fit” people. Seeing that, namely if you are insecure about what you look like, is gonna mess with your head and with your sense of self.

Yes. I have gone through this.

My gym membership lasted one hour.

I am not a piece of meat.

I do not take pleasure in sweating with strangers in public places…no, not even to go out dancing at a club unless one of my friends’ bands is playing…then all bets are off.

You are not obligated to follow the crowd, girls.

You each and all wanted to know how I have this defined appearance and wanted to know how I can eat everything that you have seen me inhale and still appear as though I can be whisked away with the next strong wind….

The answer is what it always is, and that is to go with what kept your Ancient people alive and kickin’ livin’ in the Rain Forest…they climbed trees and walked up steep mountains, swam in the depths of the oceans and danced in the light of the moon.

It is not a secret, ladies….

It is simply Being Your True Ancient Selves….