It is not over when it is over – The After Effects of Abuse

feel too much

The last thing abuse survivors need…

I am learning a whole lot about what it is that we, as survivors, go through, once it is that the violence is “over.”

No one thinks about the lasting effects of this thing called abuse, and when the technically physical part of the abuse is over with (meaning anything from these assholes being physically there but not hitting, or, actually the abuser who was physically violent is out of the picture), there is still the rest of it – the part that lives on on the inside and the part that no one wants to deal with, unless, of course, those people actually love you.

When I state that I know who actually loves me, and who will, if they are able to, do like I do for others – go to the fuckinʻ mat – and do that much for me…I mean just that.

I totally know who loves me, for real….and I also know who loves me conditionally, and that, my friends, is where abuse, of the emotional sort, begins. It is where, as children, we are made to prove that we are worthy of the love of the big people in our lives, without the “having to” prove that we are worthy. If the adults in our lives when we were kids were told this when they were kids, we would not have so many people, specifically women people, in abuse therapy these days.

Thatʻs right – more women…fuck that…more humans of either gender are abused and do not realize it, and the abuse happens when we are shunned, blacklisted, made to feel like we are – not exactly the greatest rendition of the definition of “unique” and lots of times, those people would and have no problem making fun of that which is not like them, or, that which they have been taught to judge and eventually, that judgment becomes the basis for how a person feels about anything, and anyone.

Again….there are a TON of women on this planet who are in abuse therapy. 

I am one of those women.

I am almost not one of those women, because as an intuitive, I also know that this part of my life is coming to a close…this part that sucks and is somehow not my lesson to learn anymore – but that of the lesson that my family is learning about acceptance.

It would not be coming to a close…this part… if I were not the one who exacted it all – there is no closure, sometimes, without court documentation. The ones who were there for real are still there, for real, and they are still there telling me that no matter how I feel about me right now, I did something brave. 

Abuse victims and survivors alike need reassurance, and it is not because we were not loved but that we were not shown love.

It matters.

Physical touch is all a child knows, but not until after they know words. I have learned that my particular love language is that of words….written, spoken, read, heard, sung…they are the thing that I am magickal at stringing together and creating those things called coherencies .

I am big on words.

They are my magick and I am very careful with them.

Problem is, not a whole lot of other people are, and by right of their own shitty habits and the idea that not a lot of humans like to make waves and will tolerate being treated like shit…this is another factor in all of this..abuse…shit that is prevalent and in our faces.

No one wants to believe that once the bullshit abuser is gone, that the abuse is NOT yet gone – because it is not. No one thinks about this part, the C-PTSD part, ever. They just want to believe that once the actuality of it, once the catalyst for it all to physically take place is gone, that this means it is all gone.

Wrong.

You still will, for a little while, or maybe forever, have the memory, and the people who think you can just think it away are the worst ones of all, next to those in the quasi – medical professions, some of them, who believe that there is only one way to deal with the abuse…and that way is their way. When it is that the person who is on the mend does what is expected – which is to NOT TRUST what ANYONE who is NOT A CONSTANT PART OF THEIR EVERYDAY LIFE and regularly there in some capacity – unless you are one of those people, you need to NOT give your “textbook” rendition of what anyone else needs to do, specifically those who are on the mend from this insidious thing, and your only job is to be there and LISTEN.

Too many people, namely those in those…quasi…medical positions….donʻt do either. They are too caught up in saving someone, so that they can feel like they did something and not feel so guilty that they donʻt know it all….they want to believe that their help is just what someone like me needs when in reality that is not the case. They seem to be more concerned about the pat on the back for having helped another person in need, the way that the person needed them to be, than they are about the actual person.

The reality is that abuse leaves an indelible mark, and unless it is that the abuse was happening regularly in your own life, you do not have the right, neither the experience, to help, at all, and the moment that you try to, and then get angry when the person who you are talking to did not need your help with anything other than whatever they were working on, and in your own….arrogance….decided that you knew better.

You donʻt.

You didnʻt.

I hope that you never will.

But, it could happen, and you, no one, can say that it wonʻt happen to them. 

That is dangerous to think that way.

What happens if it does?

And you cannot take that much away from someone, by right of your book knowledge, who has the power of experience on their side. NO ONE who has not had to go through losses of the material sort, and no one who has been taught that you are the reason why things go awry, when in reality you are just the easiest one to pin shit on…THAT is the reason why I know now…family…DNA FAMILY…and with VERY FEW EXCEPTIONS IN MY CASE….is the LAST GROUP ANYONE WHO HAS BEEN ABUSED NEEDS TO GO TO, BECAUSE THEY WILL NOT REALIZE THAT SOMEHOW, they had a part in it, all because they themselves cannot let go of the things that they were taught and are hanging on to that were given to them as the rules for life by dead people.

Yes…dead people, and dead people whose memories seem to be far more important that what is here and now and what is here and now is all this shit that anyone like me has to go through, all because people who want to help, tried to help, then when they got told that all they needed was someone to listen, they got shitty and told you that you deserve what you are going through.

Pretty much…

And really…when the fuck did I, specifically, deserve to have to deal with this shit like this, when all I wanted to do was breathe again, and somehow, that seems like too much of a request for people who are so used to watching me proverbially drown in the sea of …hurt.

When, really, did anyone, at all, deserve to be abused by anyone else, and when was it okay that the people who we entrust our lives with will not only give us reason NOT to trust but more – will manhandle who we are, as a person…all because they cannot be told that theirs is not the only way to deal with something, and namely something that they have no idea about the reality of, even if they were there and witnessed all of it?

Yeah…all of it.

Right this moment, aside of my three kids and my other half, David, and a handful of others who know who they are, there are not a whole lot of people who willingly have anything to say about the things that I have been through. They shouldnʻt, because all they have is their opinion, and probably some sort of limited experience, and really, when I think about it – that “limited experience” that they have with domestic violence and limited because I refuse to go through things in my head that I am not already being put through or have gone through for a long, long time.

People think it is because we are looking for attention.

Actually, we are trying to make the memories that hurt us become something that we no longer think about. The bitch of it all is that there are people who have been there all our lives and who saw what we went through and still, for the sake of preserving their own belief in whatever it is that they do not want to accept – they make the person who totally needs people in their lives to be supportive, and instead, are critical…

They tell us to stop remembering things….how?

Memories have the tendency to do that to a person, specifically when they have suffered abuse…memories have the tendency to make us live and relive the pain. The ugliest part of abuse is not realizing that you are being abused as a child and then have reactions and feelings when you are an adult and not know, right off the bat, where those feelings are coming from. Then there is the thing, or the several things, that you heard as a kid….things like “hit first and ask questions later,” and being called names like “Waterdog” and “monkey” and “monkeyʻs okole” because when you first learned to wear makeup, no one taught you how to put it on.

You liked the color red, and then your boy cousin decides to tell you that girls who wear red lipstick have “lips like a monkeyʻs okole.”

Right now I am experiencing this…energy…that is causing me to be nauseated, so much so that when I forcefully stop myself from thinking about it, the nausea stops – this is, folks, the reality, at times, of what we who are on the mend from abuse HAVE TO go through. And no – no there is nothing more than working through it that anyone can do, are no audios or videos or courses that you can take in place of actual help from a therapist or clergy or a life coach (and yes, I am a life coach who, herself, has SEVERAL life coaches….because I NEED them…). Those things work in tandem with actual human help.

And there are folks who believe that our mental awareness, and more, our soulʻs awareness, is something that we can argue with or, through this mechanism of denial, make it be something that immediately feels better right that moment. It wonʻt happen that way. When we are talking about things that have endured for a very long time in a personʻs life, all because you, yourself, have no clue how to get out of a bad thing, and more, when those who you do trust are telling you the truth, and the rest of them are still pinning themselves to who you used to be and do so without thinking that maybe a person has had way too much violence in their lives….when that person who has had enough violence speaks out against it, and the people who they are meant to trust suddenly turn on them…it causes all those things that you were told when you were a child to never heal and never go away, and for the life of you, you feel helpless to get out of the feeling. It is worse when those who you want to trust tell you that it is your fault for thinking about it all too much. How is anyone supposed to not when they are surrounded by reminders, all the time?

People think – specifically family people – that you are crazy, or spoiled, or being unreasonable. But you are not. What you are is holding in a whole lot of anguish that you were never taught to relieve yourself of. You were taught to fear a god that you were also told would help you, and when it came time for that god to help you, and you cried out, and that god ignored you…you went to your family.

Who went to that same god.

And when that god ignored them, they told you without telling you that you do not have a choice, that somehow, you owed their god the favor of self-sacrifice, when in reality it was not that at all, but that instead of them admitting that they have no idea what the hell they are hearing about, let alone being expected to do something for anyone else about – they failed miserably, and all because of a faith in and an expected belief in, on your part, a god who you have been told, all your life, will kill you if you breathe wrong. 

This is who I was expected to believe, and worse, who I was expected and am, in my own head, still expected to be…a conformist for a god that never helped me, and who I am supposed to trust blindly, and that for a long time in my life, did trust blindly, and all that did was get me my ass kicked, again and again, and then eventually, caused me this issue that I have to heal for me, because their big scary abusive man god…the one who I was supposed to and did trust for a long, long time….FAILED ME….bigger than shit!

And it is this same god now that I KNOW these people who say that they love me are likely and now telling each other is who I pissed off and yeah….it is likely my fault (again with the victim blaming) that I was abused.

…because I refuse to accept that I am wrong for being abused and that somehow, I am wrong in the eyes of their fucking god…a god who I was always expected to trust, even though he would strike me down immediately.

A god who I was told would take care of me, and a god who I was told to pray to, and this same god that people now use to punish me with, because my faith was not complete, or my belief was not true, or something, always, having to do with what I did or did not do, that this mangod who is more like a manchick wanted from me as a mere female human being.

I was supposed to accept what I was shown, and that was that whatever it was that I was going through, I am going through because apparently, I have lost favor with a god that I was told would protect me….but did not, and then I was told it was because I did not believe…

I Am a Pisces, and our fucking motto is “I BELIEVE” ….

This is where a whole lot of us end up being abused.

If it is not obvious to anyone, I am mad as hell – I see it everyday in my own life, the idea that pride in hiding what we are not willing to admit to having been wrong about or that we cannot bring ourselves to believe that someone who we raised would not believe the things that we believe. I am pretty much told, in the cruelest, harshest manner of all – the silent treatment, most of the time – that these people do not know what the hell they are doing, that they do not know whatever it all really is and they cannot help me with my issues, because you cannot food it away, and it cannot be cut out via surgical transplant. To people who cannot see another personʻs issues, it is maddening to get others to believe that there is something not okay with you.

They tell you to stop crying but donʻt realize that the only thing that you wanted to do when you were a kid was cry, because the “important” big people in your life were not being kind to you, and they were calling you names and being bullies and even now, will not admit to this, even though those who they also bullied remain in contact with them.

I have no beef with them.

They need that connection.

I get it. 

What I do not get is how it is that the people who were the adults in my life, now and knowing that not only am I one of them…adults…I am one who is almost 50 with adult kids of her own and who do not ever think that their mother does not care.

They know otherwise.

I made sure from the time that they were known about that they knew.

My children knew, and know, even now, that I am there for them, that I would do anything in the world to try to make them not hurt. They know that there is no favor that they have to work towards getting from me. They are not perfect, but they are good people, and that is the only thing that I would imagine any parent in the most “basic ways of beliefs and behavior for human type people” would want their kids to have and to display for real and as their truth.

When it is that we are trying to garner these things from others because we need to have our egos fed and we are willing to be the biggest mouth that has the biggest words but possibly not the biggest awareness of what those terms and the like actually mean and when someone like me comes along and begins to prove her prowess with research and with science and abuse….when that person (in this case me) has lived the science they teach and also live by, is told by a quasi-professional in the medical field that the way that anyone on my end of the block would be living through…when that other person tells us that we are not doing things the way that their textbooks says anyone ought to…meaning they are telling us that we are wrong – ya tend to get a little offended.

And in the case of people like me – ON THE DAMNED MEND BUT IN NO WAY IN NEED OF PEOPLE TO DO MORE THAN LISTEN AND AT LEAST BELIEVE US….you get very offended, and you do so because of this thing called C-PTSD, and this thing that many quasi-meds wanna believe that they have the right thing to say.

To them I say that they ought to just tend to their actual patients, and let the ones like me who are functioning through these issues…just LISTEN when we need you to. That is all we need. We do not…DO NOT NEED YET ONE MORE PERSON TRYING TO GET ATTENTION FROM US so that we can be further harmed by someone who actually has no fuckinʻ clue of what the hell to say to us.

So, instead to belittle us with your knowledge, saying that we are not going to heal if we donʻt do things your specific way.

Fuck you.

Those who are garnering favor for the sake of their need for attention, approval and pats on the back is the reason why, I find, people who come from the same set of parents will do what they have to do to get all the attention and accolades that they can….because subconsciously they also know that it does not come without condition.

And by right of what it is that we are actually trying to do, which is gain the favor of those who we would be trying to at least get even a nod to our survival….our families…but we never, ever think about what our actions and words and sometimes a combination of both does to anyone else, all because we need to feel like our expertise is somehow above that of anyone elseʻs, and certainly more than is the person who is going through the shit they are going through. No one knows what it is like unless they go through it for real, for a long long time, and no one knows the hurt and the pain caused by people asking you why you just did not leave and more, telling you that they would never allow it to happen to them.

It is not that fucking easy, and the people who we each and all would expect to be there for us end up blaming us, not realizing that this is what they are doing, and we go through the shit of being or feeling like we are that tiny little kid again who is wondering why it is that these people who are supposed to be there for us are there but want to call us names and tell us that someone else does things better than we do?

Now, I am not expecting a ticker tape parade. In fact I am not expecting anything at all other than that people will have the god damned clue in their heads after the fact that once the abuser is gone, so, too, is the abuse and so are the emotional “things” that the one who was the most abused in the house has gone through…is somehow over with. They wrongly assume that our issues will also be gone, not giving credence to the idea that what took years to make be part of our awareness is going to take a little bit of time to remap in the brain.

They forget that abuse is not something that is a one time thing, that PTSD and C-PTSD are the things that end up happening to people in the long run because you are fighting what you saw and what you know this thing called couplehood looks like and for the life of you, you cannot figure out what the fuck you did wrong or why it was that you feel like you did. All you feel like is that this is an error on your part, based on what you were told all of your life – that really, you are not that good, are comparable to everyone else, and that you are not unique and that you might have even deserved being beaten.

And all you want to do is have that beauty called “Love with one other person” in your life, and you want it to not hurt, and you want them to be as crazy about you as you want to be about them.

In my case, I am lucky. I actually and now have this and have had this for almost four years now.

I would not trade it for anything and will never turn my back on this person.

He doesnʻt do that to me.

He has things going on, too, but, he also, no matter what, wants to know that I am okay. He knows when I am not, and when he is not able, for whatever reason there may be, to be physically here for me, he is right there in text and Facebook messenger, reminding me that to him, I am special, good, loving, his…

We each want to be these things to someone.

At each stage of our lives there is going to be someone who we want to be these intangible things to.

I am there now, and it is not just about my guy, who I hope that I am being everything he hoped I would be, but also about my kids who I know I am every bit the mom they know that I am able to be, even now, when I feel like I am so, so …stuck in the emotional mud with people who donʻt understand what this is like.

This is not me being a victim, and no I do not have victim mentality. This is real to me, this ….insidious thing. I donʻt want to hang on to it. I hate it, and I hate the people who made it so that everyday now, for weeks, I have been made to hear the shit that was said to me and blaming me for how other people have treated me. That is the way that it felt, the way that it sounded, and when you have this C-PTSD shit, that which would not be a big fucking deal not very long ago suddenly becomes the biggest fuckinʻ deal in the world, and not because of anything other than that you have waited your whole life for someone – ANYONE WHO WAS ONE OF THE BIG PEOPLE IN YOUR LIFE AS A KID – to take you seriously.

When they donʻt it is like being that kid all over again.

Every god damned day.

When they donʻt listen, or are not attentive, or even appear to care (because they, themselves, have no idea what to do but will not admit that much) and when it is that you know, because your intuition is heightened as is your level of empathic ability – you know they are not bothering with your words, which, in your head makes you believe that when it matters they are not going to recall the conversation, but you will, and when they forget about everything that they told you, and expect that those things are just ably easily washed off like water off of a ducks back...they again fail you, but not because of anything other than that they are as tired as you are.

Even as they are not willing to see what you are going through, or at least listen to you, and willingly NOT TALK for a lousy three minutes of your life and theirs, not giving advice and not giving anything even so much to hint that they are not listening.

This is where a lot of victims are kept in the victim energy, and it is by none other than their families. I am going through this now. In fact about a week ago, one particular family memberʻs friends decided to do it to me again….publicly, as if her opinion was anything near valid, let alone her fucking facts.

And yes…it would be those who love me the most who were not willing to allow this stupid bitch to continue on. Of course I blocked her.

And these,,,formerly big people…even after all of this, and after the fact that they donʻt want to hear what I have to say.

That is not the way that they see sick people.

What they are not realizing is that I do not call myself sick, and I do not claim these issues as being mine. I refuse to. Maybe this is why it also feels, sometimes, like I am feared, because yeah…anyone who has survived the shit that I have been through and has the balls to write about it and tell the world about it without caring if those who would judge me are going to do just that….I suppose that for lots of them, my words, and my experience with them might indeed cause some problems for them….

(really?)

Where it is that they think silence is what we need, what we really need are people to listen without judging and advising – yet no one who believes in this big scary man god wants to hear that. What they would rather have is proof that their god can fix everything and no the hell he cannot.

 

No…no he will not. He wrecks more than much else, with expectation that womankind is GOING TO just follow along and be less than any human male.

This is why women are abused.

This is why anyone is abused – because other people refuse to look at the lives of other people and not judge and not place it in the minds of people who we share DNA with that somehow, this person is hurting and the ignorance to that pain and anyoneʻs …creation…of it…is not something that is going to help. The ignorance of and to that pain is the reason why some of us are in such pain – because we want to go to those people who have our best interest at heart, or who have told us this, outright, more than one time.

Yet…lots of us…We canʻt.

We are in such remarkable pain and sometimes we donʻt realize that this is our truth. We just keep going through our day as though it – the pain – never existed, doesnʻt exist.

Okay so some of us do this. I am not one of those people. I do not know how to not feel my pain because it is the thing that I have always had to deal with because no one knows how to deal with it and if they do, it is not for me, because if it were they might reach out and help me but they donʻt.

We need to be able to create trust with others in our world, and when we are not able to do that within the confines of the familial blood bond and all of our lives we were all and only equated with the people who were also in our awareness and who now no longer talk to us for whatever reason they have to no longer talk to us…itʻs all good. I am not one of those people who cannot see where we will not be okay with each other.

In fact, because of the bullshit all these years, I am actually phenomenal at knowing who actually does love me for real, and even though sometimes we wonʻt talk for a few days or even a week or two – that makes no difference.

We all know who loves us. We are aware of it because they are the people in our lives who donʻt want to see us cry. And those people are typically just like we are in that, they, too, have gone through these things where no one in their right mind would offer to go through what they are going through. There are some people on this planet who think that we like the abuse, like the dissatisfaction with the way that who we are is being handled by anyone.

Typically, we are  being handled egregiously by people whose lives will never be as rich as they care to believe it will be, because in order to have that richness, one must know what it is like to go without the thing in their lives that too many people take for granted, and that one thing is Love.

I Know, without a doubt, who Loves Me….

They call me “Mom.”

He calls me “Pineapple”

Another “he” calls me “Sis”

…and a whole shitload of you call me “Rox,” your “soul sister,” and of course, one of you calls me “Daughter” of the soul sort….

Yes, I do know…I am indeed very lucky, but, there are also those of us who can see the abuse as it still happens, and when others have not been taught that it is not okay to continue to treat people like they are less than anyone else, it tends to make the after effects of the end of an abusive relationship of any kind at all last longer, even after the abusers are gone…

Be kind to one another.

We are all we have

Try Hoʻolohe for once….try listening….you might be shocked at what you learn that you do not know about…

#STOPTHEVIOLENCE

#AuntieSaidNO

#LosAngelesKahunaRox

#TheCrabAndTheFish 

Ikaika KINGS shirt

 

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This is Who They Are…

Credit_Alina_Davis.jpg

Indeed, the men among us are not heard when it is that they, themselves cannot stop the battle in the mind

…or in the heart…

And yes, our men – the very ones who are part of our lives, in some small or large part, have been abused, and have been done so by this thing that I say and will continue to say a whole lot about – social agreement.

What Exactly “Social Agreement” (AKA – “Social Contract”) means…

It is the silent agreement that we all end up sort of adhering to when in “good company.” It is the “rules,” so to speak, of “better” society. It is what parents, for generations, have passed on to their own kids, for a long, long time that says that men are to behave as though they have no feelings.

The men in our lives have been told, for generations, from your grand-daddy to your youngest boy – they are not supposed to show how they feel, because if they do, other men are going to tease them for being (ready?) pussies.

Really?

That is like saying that the men who would chide them do so because they donʻt have feelings to express, or, maybe they are like all those big, bearded, “good christian American” men who believe that their specific god will rectify it – that thing called abuse, and that thing that they have been doing to their wives and kids and now to their friends, and friends who, by right of the damned social agreement, might actually be on the verge of no longer being around anymore.

And by this I do not at all mean that they are going to move out of town or bail, by vehicle, on their families in the way that you think, and when ANY man feels this way, I PROMISE YOU THAT THE PAIN IS FOR REAL and the thing that, if they succeed, they leave behind, is more pain than they can imagine, and yes…of course I know someone, a few someones, who this applies to.

The men in their lives….are no longer here.

It means exactly what you think it means.

And yeah…fuck yeah it happens a whole lot, and the women in our midst just sort of let it go, at least the ones who have not had to argue with a man about this one thing, and as though these men with feelings (who, haha, not so coincidentally, these same women want their  men to be more feeling towards them…not gonna happen, ladies….keep reading and find out how it is that YOU ARE HELPING THEM FEEL THIS WAY) are somehow behaving out of good character.

For those women, maybe, but, at the same time, I cannot state that I know, or at least will not state if I do or I do not…know … what they have gone through.

Men HAVE FEELINGS.

UNDERSTAND THIS NOW, OKAY?

I KNOW THIS.

…and many times, in many online coaching sessions, I have been TOLD THIS.

BY MEN….

Men.

Feel.

They do.

If it were a lie (Read: if the woman in your life who made you believe this is even AROUND anymore)  my man would not tell me, almost EVERYDAY OF MY LIFE how he feels about me, which is nothing short of the most beautiful thing on this planet and in my world…lemme tell ya….BUT…

…what lots of women want to believe is that the men in their lives are there for them to abuse and this is not correct.

Whatever it was that they were taught, these women, when they were growing up and in regards to men is the wrong thing to believe. I do not follow what is my momʻs whole “thing” (which is “a man is a man is a man is a man…” and when I press her to further detail this, I get a 1942 explanation…) (keep reading) – I go PURELY by what I have experienced, and what I am experiencing in my time as a healer on the mend is that there is so much more that the moms in my generation are hurting about, enough so that they would pass this same, fractured and incomplete message to the daughters in their lives.

On the other side of that, what I am experiencing now, as Davidʻs partner, is nothing short of incredible, on many levels, even if at times, it is not easy.

This is nothing that he would not agree with me about.

I promise.

I AM a LOT to deal with.

He knows this. Very well.

He is the only man on this planet able to deal with me –  a highly intelligent woman. I did not know I was this until he told me I was this, and believed it so much that on our first phone call, reminded me of what heʻd said in a text, as well as a chat message…that saying, at all, or merely believing, at all, that I am somehow stupid,  and in his very unique and special way that he reserves for me, told me, straight up, that those are fightinʻ words….

And he meant, and still means, every bit of it.

He thinks, but knows better, that I wanna be gone from him. He sometimes believes that he is not worth my time, and this is something that someone else made him believe, a long time ago.

He is worth my time, and I let him know so. He is worth all of the misunderstandings, and all of the traded words that were, by both of us, lesser pride filled than they were filled with the message that neither of us knows exactly how to tell the other when we are fucking up…because we mean so much to one another that to bring ANY kind of hurt to the other actually physically and emotionally harms us both. 

Yet, he is worth it.

It is all worth it, as long as he is here with me.

And he knows it.

I let him know it.

Everyone who really and truly knows me knows this about me…even his mother….there is nothing about this man, even all of his imperfections, that I am not completely crazy about. I am willing to write about it, let the world know this, publicly…

While I cannot state truly that I have no limits..and he knows, them…all of them, intimately…

It is worth it, because he is a phenomenal human being. Do not let it be a “thing,” ladies, to make it known to your guy that you actually feel like you do about him, because I PROMISE YOU – they get it more than they do not. We have, by right of our frikkinʻ gender, KEPT IT A “THING” that men are evil…if men are so evil, then why are there so many women ON DATING SITES??? And why are there SO MANY WOMEN VOLUNTEERING TO SHOW WHAT IS THEIRS TO THE WORLD??? ALL ONLINE???

Really?

(Hey…you chicks donʻt have to believe me – go look for yourself. I like observing on Facebook, the things that women lie about – so, so, so many of us lie…not even to our friends…but to ourselves….PROVE ME WRONG)

(better yet…prove YOURSELVES wrong….howʻs THAT for a challenge.…???)

The message, I am observing, is still the same, and we expect the men to agree with the idea that they have no feelings, just because they have never been properly SHOWN how to express them. We want to have our cake and we want to eat it, too, and we want them to be walking talking pieces of flesh, there to do our bidding, like they are our bitch dogs or something….

…hmmm….wonder what that looks like?

Haha….I WILL TELL YOU – IT APPEARS TO RESEMBLE THE THING THAT MANY, MANY WOMEN ON THIS PLANET ACCUSE MEN OF DOING TO US and in response to it, we have called the psychological mindfuck that plenty of them do not realize they are playing until one of us comes along and makes it happen – THEY SHOW THEMSELVES WHAT THE HELL IS THEIR TRIP…and us REAL women….we donʻt even KNOW what they are TALKING ABOUT…when you can get there, THAT is when you have reached an entirely NEW level of awareness, and until then?

That thing about constantly making the men in the world wear the ugly label that even my own mother believes they ALL wear???

This is wrong – they DO feel things, but, due to social agreement, they are expected, from generation to generation, to not show it. And my mom, Goddess grant her the blessings she has enjoyed thus far….STILL SAYS THIS and well, I do not buy into it, and I am certain that I never have, because all MY specific life it has not been a boy, neither an actual man who has bothered to lie to me, hurt me, make me want to cry, without having had a good, respectable reason for me to fall apart or become a seething mess of rage (meaning someone that I love got hurt and one of these men had to tell me, or, someone else hurt me, and they donʻt know what to say, so they say nothing….smart, guys…very very smart lol)..it has typically been another human of the female persuasion, OR, someone who I would label as being a bitchboy….I said it, so deal with it.

We wonder why it is that they, some of them, no longer want to be in the bodies they were born in?

I get it – who the hell would want to be expected to take a buncha shit, absorb it all, eat it, if you will, showing the world that they are “strong” when inside, they are a mess?

Men are not the same abuse targets that we are, and women know this.

Okay…so this woman knows this…because this woman bothered and bothers to care, a lot, about them,  because…well, who do you think composes the lot of my guy pals, and the ones who I consider as my brothers?

(For the record, I ADORE my kid brother….keep reading…Hi Pugsley..I Love You, Kapua).

Sometimes, because of such women – the sort who expect any man, and most of the time it is the father of their kids  – exist to live for the revenge that men have done to them their whole lives. I could do the same thing. I could turn on my guy, make him pay for the sins of the moron who made me sick….or….

I can love my guy, like I do, and more everyday, and let him be the man that he is in my life, and not get in his way and make him think that somehow, he is treating me wrongly because things happen to happen the way that they have.

I can love my guy, like I do, everyday, and know for sure that he knows that this is my truth, and I can make certain to do everything that I am able to do, just so that he knows, for sure, that his Pineapple is there for him.

We can all love our guys as much as I love mine, but if they donʻt know this, then they wonʻt have anyplace to grow from. This is the truth. There is no piece of paper, no book that you can read, nothing in this lifetime and neither on this planet that will, other than you saying it often, and you showing him a lot, that this is YOUR truth – you love this person, and he is worth your show of it to him. It is not a bad thing that he knows, and why you would want him to hurt for that truth that he already knows is beyond me, but you are making things harder on yourselves by adhering to all of these old social agreements that didnʻt matter when they were created.

And who were they created by?

A BUNCH OF MEN WEARING ROUGE, POWDERED WIGS, HIGH HEELED SHOES, SPARKLING FRILLY JACKETS MADE OUT OF BROCADE and akin to things that are seen these days on Las Vegas showgirls.

No, I am so not making fun of the long haired rockers of the 80s because yeah…those are my guys and yeah, when they grew into the men that they are now?

They all turned out to be better men than they believed that they could be, all those years ago, and nowadays, a whole LOT of them are fighting with the mothers of their children for (of all things) NOT LIVING UP TO IDEALS THAT NO MAN CAN LIVE UP TO…not even those very womensʻ fathers…

Take care of them, ladies, these men who love you….

Life is not a fairy tale.

Men donʻt write fairy tales, or romance novels.

Think about it…

#StopTheViolence

#TheRockin9th

#LosAngelesKahunaRox

#ICallHimTheMaestro

IKAIKA : STRENGTH POWER PEACE

hawaiian_warrior_ink_color_by_raydillon

Ikaika means “strong”…and that is what we need them to be, ladies…

Men are abused as much as we are.

It is the truth.

But they have been taught, expected by that thing known as social agreement to show less emotion and not allow themselves to appear weak.

Apparently, for any man to show how he is feeling, if it is not somehow the socially acceptable version of it… The happy guy… The guy with the swagger… The intelligent guy…

Any guy you see who is a human male…

Any guy you see might well be someone elseʻs victim of domestic abuse. Why it is that there is not more available to them is beyond me, and further beyond me is the idea that they also do not feel their feelings (I promise you that they do, very deeply and for real). Lots of men are not taught to express, by right of it being reckoned as weakness, if they show themselves to be fully feeling human beings. Men are still taught that it is weak if they show emotions.

The only ones they are socially accepted to show are anger, pride and contempt (J. Shibley-Hide, N. Else Quest, 2013)

And we wonder why it is that the men in our midst die faster than we do? 

It is because they are expected to eat their words.

It ainʻt always too much red meat that causes shit to happen to them…sometimes, it is their minds that go, and without the fight in them, they cannot fight against the recording in their heads. The lucky ones end up being seen to be what they are for real – actual human beings, capable of love and anger, and hatred and pride, and all of those other things that we females are able to express. 

When a man knows that he is loved, for real, it heals him. It brings him the security of knowing that someone on this planet needs him….yes – needs him. Knock it off already with the ball busting bullshit feminism that you chicks want to think is going to get ʻem runninʻ to your doors…

Stop with the social victimization of men at home, behind closed doors, where it matters the most to them, where they need to feel like they are strong, empowered and peaceful, just like we do.

It is not fair that lots of us expect them to be the walls of strength for us, and then those ones who want to break down that wall, so that they can recreate a man in her image…why?

Stop…stop the violence of the heart and soul of the men in our midst.

Very simply, ladies, men are also….victimized…emotionally and verbally, for the most part. We have that ability to, with one phrase, bring a man down and kill his soul.

And lots of us do it.

And let me tell you what…it is NOT COOL! You treat them like shit after they have done nothing to you, and because of…whatever the hell it was that you felt he did to you, even if he didnʻt do anything (because you know…you canʻt be wrong and you will make him suffer either way, right?) you make your guy pay with his sense of self.

My Goddess where did you learn to be that sort of awful human being? I mean yeah…women are and have always been the highest intimate partner violence victims but, what no one seems to realize is that, all we see on TV is the broken man. We are not shown the statistics and why?

Because they donʻt really exist and why?

Social fuckinʻ agreement…the one that says men are allowed to verbally abuse one another when a female of the human sort cuts him in the soul.

Apparently, the men in our midst are not allowed to feel, and they are supposed to be ashamed of saying that they are being hurt by the woman who they love…other men laugh at them…what if that were you? What is the deal with shaming a guy?

 

Women.

We are the creators – we are built for it. From the looks of it, we have done a marvelous job at this creation thing.

Now, ladies….think about your own kids, and if you have sons, focus on them primarily. Think about that lovely lady he brought home and how it was that she tricked you into being her friend and made it so that you would trust her.

Then one day everyone treated her like family.

Then one very early morning, you get a phone call from your own son who is so very dearly hurt that the anguish in his voice and his knowing that he had done everything that he needed to do for her and that by what he knew to be the right things to do and by the way that he did not see his own father treat his mother, he did the opposite.

Even to the point where he was performing fatherly duties for a child that was not his and that you knew not to get too close to. You, as this young manʻs mother, could only hope for the best but knowing deeply that it was not going to end every nicely.

He is fine.

No one in that young manʻs house really is bothered with worrying about her specific state of mind.

This is the conversation I have had…many, many times in my time as an ordained person…

There are others….like my having to extricate an abusive woman from the house that she shared with the man who she said she loved but abused and the voodoo doll nailed to the closet door frame, and, another time, with cops coming to a young manʻs house, readying themselves to arrest him when he is the one who called them, and me,  and having this same young man, on the phone, text after text, in the very early hours of the morning, believing that she was going to kill him, and him locked in the safety of the bathroom, trying hard to get through what was going on in his house.

….and please DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON THE BITCHES WHO HAVE THEIR PARTNERS FALSELY ARRESTED FOR ABUSE THAT DID NOT HAPPEN….

Yes

BITCHES

…and then there are my gay guys….yʻall know who you are. And lots of you guys, too – you guys have been in this same situation and it is double for you because the same social agreement applies to you, no matter how….swishy…any of you are.

While there are a lot of resources for those of us who, like me, chose to survive and have, from time to time, documented the abuse, here online and in my blogs, over the years but, over those years, and most recently, I have noticed that LOTS OF MEN ARE now revealing themselves as having been abused in one way or another.

I hear about the emotional stuff, and the stuff that most guys canʻt even go to their best girlfriends to talk about, because the best girlfriends are eager to chop the abusive bitch in half.

I get it, guys….I promise….

We Love Our Guys…

To all the guys in our lives, the ones who are there for us, who indeed are our brothas from othaʻ mothas…and of course, absolutely and truly, to the ones who have come into our lives, war torn from the emotional battle field, the slings and arrows still causing a bleeding wound, and the wound that we, their other halves, and now in our love and care as partners…we Love You.

You were not brought into our lives for us to abuse.

Some of us have been there, and we recall what it was like to have to suffer the loss of the identity that you thought they loved. They loved an ideal rather than the real you.

We know that you are the real thing, and we cherish your place in our lives

Mahalo

Ikaika KINGS shirt

Click on the shirt to visit #TheRockin9th

100% of the proceeds of the sale of IKAIKA: STRENGTH POWER PEACE shirt will support the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence

 

 

FIERCE

 

FIERCE 2.jpg

Being Fierce is not easily had. It takes our friendships to make it happen. If our friends cannot handle our ferocious energy, we are left to deal with many negative emotions after the fact. This is when things happen that make us experience rejection of the friendship sort…

There is no other demographic on this planet who has seen more or put up with more bullshit by anyone else than female human beings…mostly BY other female human beings.

Sad, right?

We tend to bail on each other when it is that we do not have the (perceived right) answers. We want to be right, and when we are not right or what we have shared with our girlfriends hurts us (or is THEIR hurt) we end up telling them that we cannot handle their shit.

This is not the truth.

We are women – we are BORN to handle EVERYONEʻS shit, and are BORN to be able to handle more than we think we can. This is not something that I suggest unless you are able to deal with it. I am able to deal with it. Yes, I am Shaman, am Kahuna Wahine, and indeed, it is my job in this lifetime to deal with other peoplesʻ shit.

Yet because I am also human, I still need other people. and because I am a person of the human and female sort, I will always need the energies of my Coven of sisters, my girlfriends. When they come to me and ask, through their energies, that I do my best to answer as my Kahuna Wahine self, I Am There, and Am so with the bigness of heart, soul and Aloha that, even when I am in a mood like I have been now for weeks, I am still there for them.

They come for my answers. I never have the answers. I just have ideas.

The rest is up to whoever it is that I am coommunicating with at any given moment. Most of the time it is a friend of the female gender.

The issue, I find, that I have not wanted to confront, at least for myself, is that we women can be horrid to one another, and the one way that we are this way is to ignore or deny a (female) friend what they need, and what we have promised that we would do for them, which is always typically being there when the chips of life are not only down, but being tossed at us like ninja stars.

This is my life right now – ninja stars…

I am becoming a champion at deflecting them, but I am not doing it in terms of denying how I actually feel – that would make me worse in terms of my condition and really, my condition is getting better, because I am refusing to NOT do anything about it and am refusing to allow it to be the thing that defines me. It is but a moment in my life that right now, is fucking with me.

Currently I am challenged by the lack of compassion by a very few people who I placed in certain …importance… in my circle and who are female and almost ignoring the idea that when I have been there for them…it was ALL THE WAY.  Right now, what hurts the most is that I am (spiritually) seeing who they are and more, who they are NOT in terms of the ones who can deal with me…not a whole lot of people can deal with me, at all.

And for the most part there are a few women in my circle who are behaving like …man chicks…but not in the suit and tie kind of way, but in the denial of a friendʻs unconditional love when we need each other to lean on. I have lots of them, but, the ones who I have been there for a whole lot are the ones who I needed RIGHT NOW and also are the ones who pretty much gave me this feeling of rejection to deal with and this is how I am dealing with it – in writing, so that I can teach a few people who I donʻt know how NOT to be to their friends. 

And by the way…the way that I handled them NOT being there? 

Simple….just donʻt let them know how this is making me feel in the manner that I have in the past.

Quietly.

No, this needs to be publicly seen because when I perform my rites, I do so for the group, and globally, we women are denying ourselves our own wholeness…because some of us want to be what we know we are, but we want to pick and choose who we will deal with. This is fine

When any man is challenged to choose between what is right for them, versus what is right for all of us, they are always going to choose all of us, and most of the time they are right in that choice. The reason that they are able to do this is because this is what they have been collectively taught to do – because they have also been convinced that only they can be who takes care of things, only they can make life be what it is supposed to be, and that we, as women, are not able to do that.

At all.

For anyone.

Not even our kids…or them, for that matter. For men, it is their singular purpose, as they have been taught, to each and all take care of the group.

What no one thinks about is that we women have been taking care of things in the manner that is the group, is the coven, is the village that so many disdained “Hillary Haters” seem to think is indicative of their prowess as people, let alone human beings. This entire time that we have been going through the thickness of public male insecurity at the global level just astounds me, and have not even bothered with what is the same for us women – and you are reading about it right now.

I am bothered by this…denial of our friends, specifically when they need us the most, and for the most part, I KNOW that I have been there for mine – ALL OF MINE.

Maybe I ought to stop that shit, right this god damned moment, so that EVERYONE knows what this is like. It is like we have options to be shitty to one another, and like we do not know what it is that our pals go through, for no other reason than that we have chosen to deny them what they need, all because we simply have not chosen to learn how to be more bad ass and fix that shit – that denial of what our pals need so desperately – so that we can pretend to be as bad ass as we keep asking people if we truly are.

If you deny your friends…sorry – you are anything but a bad ass. You might have people telling you this and your family might let you keep believing this but, when you let your pals down it cuts deeply.

I have been let down, again and again.

Try proving me wrong, from your ends, and you will just make it so that I am right in that the only thing that you want to do is Lab Rat me, when in reality, I am beginning to do that to you and that is not where you want to be with me – my lab rat, because it means that I am done being hurt by you and the rest who are just like you. People ask me why I am like this when I am a feminist.

It is because we treat each other very badly, all over stupid bullshit.

We end up thinking that we are the center of the Universe and really, I am one of those females who, when I gather my jumbled thoughts, knows better than to think I am the baddest bad ass of all – I know better, and I do not bother to tell myself lies about positive thinking when there really is not that much, right this moment that I can see, that is positive.

When my heart aches the only ones who are there are the ones who are also equally as broken, and for weeks now, I have been seeing who is the real deal, and who is just wearing the mask….and it sucks.

Not one of them is a man.

Unfortunately, lots of us chicks have, and we have allowed it to come out of us as “I canʻt talk with you about that – it makes me sad and I canʻt handle it” and “I am too busy – perhaps another time,” and “you just need to think happy and positive thoughts and you will be fine” and no…no we will not be.

Okay...I will not be, and the longer that I sit here in this energy, and the more that I tear things apart, and the more that I mind fuck this to an impossible end… the more that I realize that there are some in my circle who just cannot deal with people like me, because yeah...I Am fucking Fierce.

Gently so, but, none the less, everything about me is Fierce.

It is the thing that I know draws people to me (or repels them). The worst thing is feeling like you have done a lot, have listened a lot, and when it is that you need an idea or two, you get a lousy message that is telling you some canned bullshit that you do not believe, because you know that it is not as heartfelt and that it is not what you would have sent, only because you donʻt feel like that for real.

Know that I am not talking about all my pals, just certain ones. And yes, this may be the thing that breaks the camelʻs back and at this time, it donʻt matter because I have been denied one too many times and maybe this is why –maybe I need to be denied one too many times so that I realize that not everyone who speaks the language of the Goddess is, themselves, closer to being better and stronger and are only saying so because they want to be. When the fuck did I ever tell anyone that this Spiritual stuff was going to be easy? I would never do that, ever, because I KNOW BETTER.

I also know that the only way that we get to be fierce is to face things that we are scared to. The only way that we rise above our fear is to look it in the eyes and tell it to go away and the only way that we become compassionate is actually to be there, regardless of what someone elseʻs energies at that moment are making us feel – when we tell others that we will be there for them, and then we fail in the energy, and  it was another female …it makes us feel like we are somehow the fucking smashed and broken fucked up thumb among 9 other perfectly manicured fingers – left out and made to be the ugly thing that people see, rather than the fierce energy that we are, even if it is in manifest. When we deny who we are and how we feel for real, we fucking rob ourselves and we end up actually harming ourselves more – all because we cannot handle someone elseʻs ferocity of energies.

Donʻt deny yourself the feelings you are having because that is our magick as females – to be able to intuit, to feel, to know and to heal ourselves through these others who come to us, in the form of a friend who is needing our ears, our hearts, our souls.

Do not deny your friends who are hurting.

Donʻt do it.

Ever.

They would never do that to you.

They would want you to be fearless, or at least as close as you can get to that feeling, and they would want you to be fierce if you cannot be fearless, because ferocity is primal, is biological, is that thing that we all are and that thing that we, as female human beings, have been taught to NOT be…fuck that shit. 

The one thing that you do want to do is to remain FIERCE….in everything…even in the way that you, that we, help each other.

Right now there is a global feeling of oneness, as much as there is that feeling being a oneness of despair and abandonment and well, you are, we are all not alone in that energy – and no one better have the god damned unreasonable reasoning that we “need to think positively” – that is fucking dangerous to deny those things in us and to shove them back down into those places that are dank, dark and painful. NOT dealing with yours is why you donʻt want to help others deal with theirs and that there is called unenlightened, for real.

I have been taught by my teachers of the Divine that in order to be balanced, we have to …HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE NEGATIVE EMOTIONS IN OUR LIVES. We have to eat it to beat it, purge it and learn from it, and the only thing that I see some people learning is to be masterful at the denial of the truth – and we women are magickal at that, too – denying our own selves our own truths.

I will not do it.

I canʻt. It is not my way, which is the Medicine Way.

To deny them in ourselves is to deny the world of our highest, truest best selves. To tell those who are not only the closest to us, but, the closest to us and are the same gender that we are is torture on our friends and really, I do not  know how the hell it is that anyone can continue to deny their own negative feelings, who go to your friends for that negativity to at least be made sense of, and then deny those people what they need so much and so badly, all because you “did a lot of work to not be in that feeling” and if this is you and you deny your friends because you are a fucking pansy ass, I hate telling you this but you fucking deserve not feeling secure in the judgments that you are giving to others.

You deserve this unsure feeling, because that, whether you know it or want to believe it or not, is what you have given to others.  If you donʻt believe me – ASK THOSE OTHERS. If they are like me, they will be truthful. Just try harder not to be like THIS you and you might get what you are looking for, which is the truth.

Learning to handle all of it is not easy, but that, dears, is what is known as The Medicine Way.  To deny and keep denying is the way of sickness. Those who do this are charlatans, at best, liars at worst, because the one who you truly deny the truth to is yourself, about LOTS of things.

You are the very type of people who we, as women, want to avoid, and as women, we are not supposed to use the shit out of other people and then when it suits us, come back as though nothing happened. It happened. You know it happened, and when your friends needed you, you fucking failed them.

That is not fierce.

Thatʻs bullshit.

Thatʻs weak ass.

That ainʻt me.

I derive my strength from facing the bullshit, and I get through it by helping…HELPING MY FRIENDS BY LISTENING TO THEM, EVEN WHEN IT IS SOMETHING THAT I DO NOT WANT TO GO THROUGH WITH THEM AGAIN…I am there for them, because I am a very good friend, and an even better human being.

We have been beaten down but we are not yet out, and we have been told that no matter what we do, we are somehow meant to have to go to the mat for others but when we need them to do the same for us, it is like they have too much to do and that somehow, we are an option, our needs not that important.

This is the time that we have to be Fierce, not only in our show of what we want, but more, what we need, not only from them, BUT FROM THE WORLD…namely, and especially our very battered selves.

What About Your Friends? 

” …every now and then I get a little crazy. Thatʻs not the way itʻs supposed to be. Sometimes my vision is a little bit hazy, and I canʻt tell who I should trust or just who I let trust me…” (TLCʻs “What about your friends?”)

I know who my friends are. Without doubt, I know this, and it bothers me that sometimes, I will hang on to the ones who I know are not purposeful and have never been. These are the ones who tell me, all the time, that I need to be positive for the sake of being positive, that I ought to deny who I am because maybe that is how they roll.

I cannot apologize for being who I Am.

Who I am is FIERCE, even when I am down, or angry, and for too long now, I have silently made amends to people who do not understand or perhaps take my fierceness as anger, when in reality it is not only anger, but anger mixed with the confusion that those who we trust the most, when they are not there for us, fully present and aware as we are expected to be for them…this is called parasitic and right this moment…it is like this for me.

I wish I knew why…oh wait – I DO know why….

I just stated it, in writing even – I am FIERCE, and my ferocity is not something that those without it can understand. Maybe it is because a whole lot of people are convinced that this whole…new age way of denying the negative to have only positive is the thing that we are contending with. If you need proof – Doreen Virtue, the Angel Lady, is no longer the Angel Lady. While it was that I always had respect for her, I have never really followed her teachings because why?

A lack of ferocity is why – because I AM THAT – I AM FIERCE, and it takes very strong people, the sort with the will of the Universe, to deal with such an energy like mine. 

Yeah.

I said it. Deal with it, because it is the truth.

I have been waiting and wanting to write something for WEEKS now, and in that time have had other words to describe this and the only ones that come to mind and the only ones having come to mind are the ones that you are reading now. If I am expected to be strong through all of everything that I have gone through and still go through, and I am expected to trust that my pals are going to be there like I have been for them, no matter how long it has been since the story has changed for anyone at all, then it is expected in return, and if people are just going to worry about themselves, then people ought to just not bother with having friends and being fierce at the same time because when our friends are not there, it fucks with our sense of security, makes the insecurity within us come alive again and makes it as though we are, somehow, because they cannot handle it- WRONG…and that alone and on its own is fucking WRONG.

In order to be Fierce FOR REAL…

You have to be able to deal with people – ALL PEOPLE, period, and on that end, how you deal with them NEEDS to be honest – even if it makes no sense to anyone at that moment or for whatever reason – honesty might make you no friends, but, will also cause you NO KARMA to deal with. And no, I do not give two shits about it if you deal with people on the daily – most of us do, and using that as a reason is also bullshit. I deal with broken people everyday, and I happen to be, still, myself, somewhat broken. It does not afford me the excuse that because their energy is  what it is, I do not have to be who I Am and ignore them. I do not have to take on and constantly wear their energy. I have the choice to do as I do, which is to separate my Pisces self – the reverend and the friend – and get through someone elseʻs pain. To be a healer, you must know ALL pain and if you are picking and choosing, you are not ready to be that and if you never do it, you never will be.

I said it, deal with it, it is the truth.

To be fierce, you have to be able to also know what it is like to actually sit in anotherʻs perceived weaknesses, if for anything at all, to be able to relate to them. Given the temperature of right this moment, and the fact that I am very well aware of the planetary things happening at all times, I also know that if I am to be anything at all the person who I have been becoming, then I suppose that to those fair weather friends I have to make it known that not now, nor ever shall anyone at all, make me feel, again, like I somehow am not as important as were any of your issues, no matter the time in your life or whatever the fuck was going on in your lives. When I need a whole lot of you, you run the fuck from me…

That shit is over with.

Try me and find out.

I am in the game of being fierce, not chosen or fuckinʻ picked like a god damned booger, and that is totally what this feels like – as if when my life chose to take yet another dump on me, and I went to those who told me that they would be there for me, all of them women – certain ones all had a reason as to why, for two minutes of their lives, they would fail me…

Yes

FAIL ME

All that does is  make me MORE FIERCE….

FIERCE

Be Fierce.

It is different than being fearsome, or worse – fearful.

One is fiery and ready to get this shit handled, and one is something that makes it known that we are going through things because we are willing to be shitty to others..and the last one is the one that we are expected to be because we have been taught that our fucking comfort level is going to be fucked with if we have to hear someone elseʻs issues.

It will be.

You just have to deal with it, or you are not dealing with you in your entirety – this is the same for all of us, and no matter what anyone who has denied me, namely my girlfriends and when I was always there for you – you are proving to me one thing. When it comes to being fierce, you want to not be that way all the time…there is such as thing as being gently fierce, but, you have not gotten there to that part in me yet, because you are too busy not listening, and it sucks.

A lot.

To be Fierce, you have to be there for people, even when it makes you uncomfortable. It means that you have to also look at that part of you – the part that you have denied, and the part that you donʻt want to contend with, and the part that makes you more akin to fair weather than much else. Yeah. I have lots and lots of issues, and that I can and that you – NONE OF YOU – can “heal” me is your issue with me. I no longer am that …lab rat…and here is some news, ladies…I NEVER WAS AND NEVER WILL BE.

I am real, and I am hurting, and you have run from me many, many times, preferring your false sense of self than what it is that I have always given to you, which is nothing short of my realness.

Perhaps that is what you contend with – if I feel like this now, all on my own and about me, when I am no longer feeling like this, you might have to keep up with me.

It happens.

It is not because of me, that is for sure. 

To be fierce means that you do things to make things apparent to yourself, and in this moment the one thing that is apparent is that in terms of my friends, I need to really scrutinize certain ones NOT just on social media, but in the real, because the ones who cannot get to me find a way to do that, even if it is by social media or text or phone call, and the ones who didnʻt really mean it and only wanted a cool friend to show them what it takes to be fierce are the ones who I am addressing today.

No. I am not addressing any man, at allso get out of that mindset, immediately. 

Know now that you do not do things better because you did them by yourself – that is bullshit. You each and all know that it is, and the way that you have each and all handled MY specific heartache is to not just bullshit me with whatever it is that you want to believe will work, but more, you did not think past your god damned selves to see that while we have a lot in common, the thing that we are not are clones. I am a deeply feeling person and when my friends need me, I am there for them, period. I do not and have not ever deferred, at least without an explanation as to why it is that on any particular day, I cannot “be” there in total for them.

It is not ever, by the way, about THEIR shit…but about MINE and I MAKE CERTAIN THAT THEY FUCKING KNOW SO

That is what is called an actual friend.

Actual friends help keep us fierce, and when it is that they are not full of shit or themselves, they are actually able to help. It is not that I need my hand held or that I cannot get through this on my own…whatever the fuck “this” is….it is that I am being shown, even though I do not like it, the reasons WHY I Am Fierce, and why it is that when I hurt, it is not light, because I am not a light person.

This is the thing about healers, shaman and medicine women – we are who we are because of what we have gone through and by right of this alone, this makes us prime for being in this Fierce energy, for no other reason than that people do not understand us and more, canʻt deal with it when the warrioresses in our midst end up with arrows that must be broken where they have struck us. Arrows from the battles that we have fought, and arrows of the proverbial sort and the sort that only one like me understands are there for the purpose of wounding us.

Most of the time it is our friends of the female sort who help to tend to the wound left behind by the bullshit.

Then there are those like me….perceived to be the strongest person on the planet or at least in the lives of these other women.

Yet, when it comes down to it, we are left feeling like we are again fighting on our own, given “reasons” as to why they could not be there, and leaving us hurting in the energy that was set there by something else, but is now filled with the pain of a friend or LOTS of them who have just left us hurting…yes…LEFT US HURTING, because they donʻt know how to deal with it at all. 

Unfortunately, some will not ever know how to, so long as they continue to deny the lesson brought to them in the form of their wounded-in-the-soul-friend, and a friend who is wounded for more than the reasons that these females would choose to not listen to all of it. It is all learning, which is the thing that I do -I am a teacher of the Craft, of the Divine Feminine within, and when it is that another female chooses not to learn it bothers me, because it also means that there is a part of them that they would rather keep the same than to grow and move along in their healing.

What they are not learning is significant, and it seems as if it doesnʻt feel good or they cannot handle it, you, as their friends, are left in the dust.

And really, it is actually all okay…

Iʻve got this, really.

Itʻs all okay, because like the Phoenix, the dust is where folks like me rise from….and when we do it…we are Fierce, more so than we were before and lesser willing to put up with another friendʻs bullshit. The other thing that this serves us with is the practical nature that comes with spending a whole lot of time by oneʻs self, learning to seal the wounds and being able to look at the scar there, the one left by the abandonment, the rejection, the things that we, as these fierce protectors of all things “emotional,” “spiritual” and plain old Feminine and Divine hold as the nearest and dearest thing to us.

As I read and reread my own words, I find that the holes left by the arrows of people who were not there are there to remind me that I was strong, that I handle my ninja stars and the wounds left by the emotional barbs and arrows that others donʻt try to yank from my soul in the most pristine, divinely feminine way that I can. I would rather that those things not be yanked out prettily either, because I have this propensity towards seeing the scars left by the wounds as a medal of honor, really.

It means that one day, sooner or later, I will be revisited by this pain, perhaps by the same friends who chose to leave my soul bleeding out, as it were, and when that day comes, I will remember this writing, remember these words as being my own.

It means that one day, when it is that the weather is more likable to their own soulʻs progress, I will be that one who is recalled fondly, like the Fierce Ikaika Wahine – Warrior Woman – That I Am.

It is wise to Be, In Love, but, do so while also Being Divinely Fierce….

If you do not know how to be Divinely Fierce, for real, feel free to contact me….you will know what it is that you fear the most and that is making you anything but as Fierce as you wish you were.

You are not this yet.

You will be…maybe….

Got a minute? Can you talk? I am having a hard time right now with me….

If you can answer this the way that you ought to, there might be hope for you. If not, then I will expect to hear from you as a client in the future.

Youʻre going to need me.

I might be wrong but….

I doubt it.

#ProveMeWrong

#LosAngelesKahunaRox

 

 

 

Why We Donʻt “Just Leave” : Words about leaving an abuser (#1 in a series about domestic abuse)

John getting arrested for thinking that he can get away with shit

If you have never been someone elseʻs victim of violence, of any kind, then you canʻt know why lots of victims who are in the throes of violence donʻt just leave…here are some words about why it took me a very long time to do what was needed…

Donʻt fucking judge people for the way they handle certain ugly things that they did not invite into their lives.

For the very life of me, I cannot and will not ever understand why it is that people who have not “been there” have the very balls to ask anyone else why they did not just leave their violent relationships. If you are so inclined to believe that we liked the abuse, and so inclined to believe that somehow, we might even have invited the shit – these words are particularly for you people.

And yeah…by the fucking way…who the fuck are YOU people anyway to further shame, demean, disrespect, and question someone who does not owe you a fucking thing…you know…a FUCKING EXPLANATION…either way? Who, exactly, do you think you fucking ARE???

When the hell was your need for more to gossip about or pretend to be a hero to someone that much more fucking important than the safety and sanity of people who you really do not god damned understand and neither do you understand the fucked up, shitty energetic nature that is domestic abuse? 

Who the fuck exactly is it out there and willing to tell me again that I need to just get over it, that I need to stop this whining and stop this ongoing rage that I have, not only towards my kidsʻ dad, but also towards those people who ask all kinds of questions and then have the fucking NERVE to act as though if this were them, they would just leave.

No …no the fuck you would not….you cannot say that because you do not know that. You cannot state that, and when it was stated to me that I should “just leave” I made myself clearer and clearer, as bravery and being fucking tired of being further god damned victimized by these people who assumed that if they were me – they would just leave.

Again…no the fuck you would not.

You would not because you are not an expert on being an abuse victim until you are turned into one, and when I say “are turned in to one” I do not mean once you got into a fist fight with your best friend over a boyfriend who spoke mean to you. I mean you have spent some real time with someone, long enough to think that you are safe and that they are true….when you are young and ignorant to what is truly Love from another person….you have no god damned clue, for real.

Unfortunately, I do.

FOR REAL.

What we, as victims, before we are survivors and conquerors of domestic abuse, go through, at the whim and the hands of our abusers is nothing short of scathing, at first, and by the time that one of us gets to the point where I am – filed for divorce and then HAD TO file restraining orders on this person, and am STILL doing it for all of my family…and still fucking worried that the asshole in the photo whose face you can barely see will harass or bother me, my kids, my parents, my life any further – when you get to the point that I am, right now and as I write this article…you have no FUCKING CLUE WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT…so please…shut the fuck up already and PAY ATTENTION TO SOMEONE WHO DAMED WELL IS AN EXPERT ON THE SUBJECT in MANY MORE WAYS THAN ONLY THE TEXTBOOK WAY…GOT ME???

If it is not apparent to anyone reading this, I AM LIVID. I am allowed to be, so long as that lividity is well placed and towards the correct idiot, and I promise you that it totally is. I have the very right to be this angry, and angry because those who pretend to care are the very ones who only wanna know that they donʻt have to really do anything OTHER than be fucking nosy….and as you read through this….you will figure out who I am talking about in terms of being gossiping assholes who have no idea that they are also part of the reason why it is that at this time in my life…I AM FUCKING PISSED…

I am pissed that these people told me that they love me, but, are willing to use violent beatings for someone who used violent beatings on me…when the FUCK was it again that someone who was the victim of violence would be okay with more violence? And you people want me to trust you, or at one time cared if I did. I donʻt. Yʻall did not give one tiny pebble shit of concern about my safety, and the ones who did never bothered to go and gossip about my plight – they actually helped me, a whole lot (Gina…Waipuna…Kapiolani and Kaiʻu…the older sister I did not get to have and who knows who she is….the Lavins, Amber….you all know who you are and there are lots who I have not named such as Mama Noʻs Coven….and of course, the love of my life, the one to whom I refer as being “The Maestro”…I Love You ALL…and thank you for saving me all those times…mostly from my very tortured self…)

Let it be well known now that, for the most part, no one who has been victimized by violence wants violence to happen on behalf of them and if they do then they need to check themselves before further wrecking themselves in that – violence is NEVER the way to solve things, and no matter what has happened to me physically, no act of violene that is not a protective measure right in that moment where it is self defense is EVER going to be okay with someone like me – EVER!

It is not that I want this person to suffer the way that he made us all suffer, but I will not lie and state that I do not wish he would just go away forever and allow me the peace of my own sanity. He is the reason why, right now, I am struggling every single day of my life with this insidious thing called C-PTSD. I wanted EVERY BIT OF the violence to be done with -including the verbal, emotional sort –  and the way that I made that happen was through the court system in California, and federally through VAWA…otherwise and better known as The Violence Against Women Act of 2013.

Never once in my life do I recall myself ever inviting some asshole into my life who I just could not make go away – always, in the past, even though lots of shitty things have happened to me from the time that I was 16 years old, I was able to get out of things and able to make bad people just leave me alone.

But this was different.

There is truth to the idea, and given that I am an ordained minister , that I have certain protocol to follow and that I answer to Spirit and not an employer, that there are some things that we just have to look away from, have to not pay attention to, and even have to forgive – not the other person, but ourselves for feeling and being made to feel like we allowed the game of violence, through our not being able to escape or more, their trying hard to maintain their rights while violating ours.

The reason that we donʻt “just leave” is simple – while it is that we are in clear and present danger when we are in their presence, the scarier thing is being under their watch but away from them.

Betcha never thought of that one, did you?

Probably not.

Most of the stalking cases in this country are of a domestically abusive sort. Most of the murders that happen to women and young girls…again…domestically abusive sort. With this much knowledge, one can hardly blame someone who has already been through so much, has already endured things physically and now to make things worse there is the mental and emotional issues and then, add to that, because the laws are, in my opinion, NOT there to protect us as much as they are in place to make criminals know exactly what their limits are in terms of violating other peoplesʻ rights, privacies, lives….no one can blame someone who is being victimized for not leaving, even though escape is what every single one of us who recalls being that victim, who are now survivors and conquerors, want, desire, intend, manifest, eventually.

And we hope that we are alive and well and with all of our kids with us at the end of it all.

This is the truth

We are not as protected by the laws, I think.

Criminals of any kind are told, in writing, what it is that they can get away with.

Think about it…

Apparently, my ex-idiot only read what I told him to read in those parts of VAWA and the California codes in terms of Domestic Abuse that tell him what HIS rights are and what he CAN get away with, and didnʻt bother to read what were MY rights, and, as well, the rights of our kids, my parents and the neighbors and others who have borne witness to all of it over the years. Every single one of them, with exception to the neighbor to the left of me, and the neighbor to the right of me – ALL OF THEM asked me the same damned question, and even thought it was sort of…dumb and “hopeful for reconciliation” with my abuser…that I did not just leave.

To those of you who donʻt get the reason why we donʻt just fucking leave, let me put it to you this way.

Think back to the time when you were in grade school. I say this because every one of us recalls the school yard bully in our lives and the lives of others. Think about the one kid or the few kids who this bully used to pick on. Now, recall in your memory the way that these other bullied kids behaved AFTER theyʻd been picked.

Okay..now…broaden that visual and remember how the kid who was picked on got picked on worse by the rest of the kids on the school yard.

If you were the bullied kid, you would know for sure that it was torture to try to get away from the bully, that the bully would follow the bullied kid around the school yard and taunt and harass that poor kid until the kid was in tears or recess was over with. Remember now, too, the way that the recess teachers told the bullied kid that “sticks and stones” bullshit, and that the bullied kid ought to just stand up to the bully.

Then one day, the bullied kid stands up to the bully, and the bully not only defeats her PHYSICALLY in front of her friends, her teachers, the rest of the students at a very exclusive private school in the mid-70ʻs, but points at her laughing, encouraging other kids to join in, and the only ones who were on her side were the rest of the bullied kids….now recall the way that the administration handled the bullied kid (not very well, as I recall) and how they just sort of told the bully to not do that again to the little girl with the braided long hair.

..yes…it was me….and yes, until I got taller and older and wiser and finally had the fuck enough, I was a bullied kid.

…a bullied kid, no less, at a private CHRISTIAN school in Glendora, California…

I was a brown child, and the teachers would make me know so by stating that it was “lovely that you are able to come here. It must be hard on your parents to make such a sacrifice…” were the sorts of things that my little tiny ears heard, all the time. Add to that, until the sixth grade, I was a bullied kid, at a predominantly “white” private “christian” school. I wonʻt go on to say what the name of the school still is. I will just state that at this time in my life, I must hail with much love, those teachers who chose to educate publicly, young minds away from the abuses that I know too many kids still suffer at the hands of these people – yes, all of them…even the adults in their lives (it is that bullshit called “constructive criticism”…go fuck yourselves….). 

Anyway…when someone is bullied as a child, that bullying becomes normal, becomes something that the child grows up thinking this is how life is.

Even as I saw everyone else NOT being bullied, what everyone else did NOT see was the way that I was handled by my momʻs sister, or my dadʻs father, or the people who did not like my dad on my momʻs side of the family and who chose to make my childhood where they were concerned somewhat a battlefield for me and them..because someone had to speak up for Daddy, and that someone was and still is, will always be ME (and my siblings and now my kids, too).

At the very young age of 7, on a lovely spring afternoon in Valinda, Ca, as I sat underneath my grandparentsʻ dining room table, I listened to the way that my motherʻs brother spoke to and about my dad with me right there and in front of my mother, as if neither of us mattered or the fact that I was very deeply hurt and grew up wounded by these jokers (I FUCKING SAID IT SO GOD DAMNED DEAL WITH IT).

I heard him…them… verbally abuse my father, and I could also hear my mother trying to get her manʻs back…but they were relentless. It kept going on and on, and then, like now, I could not take it and would not allow it any longer. I told these people “LEAVE MY DADDY ALONE!” and paid dearly, emotionally, for it, for years.

To this day, there are VERY FEW of my momʻs family who I care to acknowledge OTHER THAN a couple of cousins…my sister and brother….of course my dearly departed grandmother whose Maoli name I carry…there are some who I used to love immensely, who I donʻt even acknowledge as breathing anymore, let alone related to me.

Fuck all that.

When you are a child, and then an adolescent, and then you marry someone who your family thought was the greatest thing since sliced bread, because that person came from what appeared to them as being my exʻs charmed, very monied existence, because you want them to love you, because you did nothing for them to not love you, and you realize that all the time they only judged you…you end up trying hard to escape. It did not help one tiny bit that all of these people are “good christians” and all of them “prayed for a miracle” where I was concerned. When this big, full of shit jack off came into the picture, and because there were other, far uglier things going on in my life at the time, that entire group of people seemed to have breathed lots easier (for some odd reason) when he showed up.

Looking back and knowing what I now know of the very lot of them, it was like they were hoping that by my marriage to this “rich” man, I would be too busy to bother with them. And that was the biggest lie of all. I actually needed them, needed to know that they were there for me, and they were, but it came with conditions. Conversely, the very people who these people also had nothing good to say about – my dadʻs family ….it was my cousins from my dadʻs side, and then much later, another “exiled cousin” from my momʻs side whoʻd come to my assistance.

And those who did come to my aid will tell you that the reason that I just did not leave is because he found me, every time. 

Best example is in 1991, about eight months to a year after Iʻd signed my life away for three fucking decades, when I left and went and saved myself with my friends, my “sisters from another Mr.” – Toni, Kimmy, Kelly and Tracey – and of course Jim and Betty, and one time, in early 1992 – February, the Hogans and the Halfacres….it was never that I had no safe places to hide from him, but that the safe places were found and he was the one to find them.

He would stalk me.

He did stalk me.

He found me at the beach…then at my cousinʻs house, then at the places that I worked…it has been, to say the very least, a needed thing to exile THIS person and, as well, all of those shitty people who made my life a constant confession, with them as the priest…funny, I am the one who is ordained, and for lots more than only marrying and burying people.

I am the real fuckinʻ deal, and yeah, it is my duty to out those people who are shitty to other humans, even if and when it takes a judgeʻs stamped order…it is my duty to all of those who have been treated like they are lower than scum, all because someone who they thought has their best interest at heart LIED horribly to them, and they are now in a situation that they cannot just leave ….because leaving could be and has the very potential to be deadly.

Everyday, for a long set of years, I went through this. I went through the terror of being alone with this person, and I went through the shame of people telling me that I was not only encouraging his abuse through my enabling it, those mother fuckers never ever bothered to ask me how I WAS – all they were was worried about what the abuse was making THEM feel like, and never fucking mind me.

I put an end to that shit.

No one who does not know my nicknames, does not go to school with me, does not call me their family or one of their best friends…and of course…no one who does not call me his Pineapple…needs to know what the fuck I did, because yʻall were not interested in my life until the drama began again. That is when you fucks came out of the woodwork like the fucking roaches do from the fucking moronʻs former nasty ass room that he lived in, got sicker in the soul in, made my life a living hell from the pit of…no one who does not know this much about me has the fucking right to judge me or others like me because I refuse to answer that fucking question…”why didnʻt you just leave?”

Hereʻs a fuckinʻ question….why do you care? You didnʻt care before you found out about all of the drama, and all of the fighting and all of the other bullshit that you seem to take as being mere entertainment and more fodder for your social networks…Let it be well known that your sorry asses…no matter WHO the fuck you are…your sorry asses have not bothered with me for a long fucking time

And now it is my turn

Go the fuck away…you got your answer

Fuck off, please

#FuckViolence

#VAWA

#IAmBeautifulNoMatterWhatYouSay

#LosAngelesKahunaRox22

#TheCrabAndTheFish

1_New Cover BONES OF THE SOUL

Click on my book cover for a FREE DOWNLOAD of the revised edition of 

THE BONES OF THE SOUL

at smashwords.com

 

*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 

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

1_douchebag_goodbye.jpg

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.

No

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 !!

#LosAngelesKahunaRox22

#TheCrabAndTheFish

#FaceByGraceCottell

 

*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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RISE UP AND MAKE SOME NOISE FOR THE BRAINY CHICKS OF THE WORLD !!!

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…

YOU DID IT! YOU PROVED IT- BRAINY CHICKS RULE !!!

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 !!

#LosAngelesKahunaRox22