Little Teachers

Both my children have birthdays coming up. So I started painting something for my son, thinking it would be more challenging, or it would take more time. Surprisingly, it is coming along rather nicely. It’s amazing what you can do, when you believe you can do it.

There was a time I use to feel bad I had nothing to give. But I realize as an artist, my gifts are special, because they are rare. You cannot walk into any store and buy it. Plus, I can create things, images, that are based to my children’s interests, and put my own twist to it. I can give them something they can show their friends, something to cherish and be proud of. And maybe as they get older the more it will mean, my work and effort can truly be appreciated. So unlike a toy, or a snack, that can break, or won’t last, I give them my art. Which is like giving them a moment of recorded history.

It was my daughter that suggested to make them art. Originally for Christmas. But at the time, I had a writers block, but for art. I had the supplies, I had the frames, but no idea what to create. After numerous visits, I’ve gotten to know my children better. They are being more open, and I am more than willing to listen. I’ve accepted my son’s interest in video-games, at first I had a hard time with it. But I let my judgements go, because what I want most is a good relationship with my son. So I’ve embraced his interests, and when he talks about it, I encourage him to continue. It’s become interesting, because I have very little knowledge about video-games, and he has become my teacher. Funny how life has a way of doing that, but than again I think the best teachers are children. Sometimes us adults just need to stop, get up off our high horses that “we know all” as adults, and just listen. Ya know? Drop our pride. We can learn from them, as much as they can learn from us.

Anyway, my daughters birthday isn’t til the 7th of May, and my son’s birthday isn’t til the 20th. I still have some time to complete these gifts. If anyone deserves the gift of my art, it is them. I better get back at it.

By the way, the opening reception for the Framing the Phoenix is tomorrow…Correction, today, since it is 2am. Tuesday, April 30th at 7pm. The admission is free, and it will be at The Arts Project here in London, ON. If you don’t already know, I’ve spread the news everywhere else, I have an art piece in that show. If you cannot make it to the opening reception, no worries, the show runs from April 30th-May 4th. Exhibition hours: Noon – 5pm.  – Pooks

“They inspire you, they entertain you, and you end up learning a ton even when you don’t know it”- Nicholas Sparks


Mind -Fuck

I did my intake for counseling on Thursday. Looks as though as I will be facing a few demons within. Unlike other counselors I’ve had, this one wants to go to the root of it. The roots of what makes me submissive, and afraid to use my voice when I need to. Even though it may be tough, I know it will be worth it. For someone that has had a long history of abuse, I seriously want to break that cycle.

Which reminds me, my counselor agreed with me. I made the right decision when it comes to cutting the drama queen of a friend out of my life. When I explained the situation, she said it did sound confusing, a lot to take in, and very draining. She also said that it looks as though as I know when to draw the line. Heck! If I didn’t, I’d go nuts! Besides, I don’t like being lied to. I don’t like the head trips, or mind fucks. I don’t dig drama. Plus, I kept being placed in a position I didn’t want to be in. The position to be the person to rebel against, no matter what advice I give. I wrote about it, my poem called Soap Opera’s and Roller-coasters . Lord knows I’ve had enough drama to last me a life time, why should I tolerate any more?

So, to any fans of mine regarding me and the New School of Colour, I won’t be attending the Ark Aid Street Mission location anymore. Why? So and so goes there. I would rather stay away from her nonsense. I choose my own mental health over more bullshit. Although, I will make an effort to go to the New School of Colour at My Sister’s Place. Even though I am not really a morning person.

I appreciate the positive response I’m getting for my poetry. Thank you to all that have taken the time to read my poems.

I was working on an autobiography, but that just kept dragging on and on. It ceased to ever come to an end. So I completely chucked that idea. I’m thinking of creating a poetry book, something like my aunt did. Who knows! Maybe if I get enough together, maybe it will be enough for a book.

Anyway, since my counseling session, I’ve been feeling a bit dark. Just knowing what it is I will have to face eventually. My worker asked if I could remember what it was that made me so submissive? I do. I remember all the times, at least the ones that have traumatized me.

I’m a bit scared to be honest. But at least I’m back in to counseling. It may be hard for me to face, but I have support. I will get through it, even if it means I have to walk through a storm. – Pooks

“When people recover from depression via psychotherapy, their attributions about recovery are likely to be different than those of people who have been treated with medication. Psychotherapy is a learning experience. Improvement is not produced by an external substance, but by changes within the person.” – Irving Kirsch


The Beauty of Letting Go

So since I let go of the excess baggage, a supposed friend that lies, and just loves to fuck with my head. Not worth it. That is not a “true” friendship. Nor is it a healthy one, certainly not for my mental health. Anyway, good things have been happening since.

I went to an appointment I had booked at the Student Success Centre since I have been accepted into University. We started to look at my options. Sure it would be nice to do the art, and writing thing. My two passions. But I have to stay focused and choose my modules wisely. I need to keep in mind that the original plan is to go to UWO to learn something that can guarantee me a job afterward. A job that  I can enjoy. A job I can use to support my children financially for weekends and invest in the two things I’m passionate about. So I could start with art the first year, but not let that be my main focus. Look at it as learning the skills I may need work on. Texture, proportion, and colour theory. There are so many options, so many possibilities. It’s exciting. I could even get a PH.D in Philosophy if I wanted to, although I’m not sure exactly how handy that would come in the job field.

I also finally managed to submit a painting into the Framing the Phoenix Art Exhibition. I am just waiting for confirmation that the person that it is to go to, got it. Since she wasn’t present when I had dropped it off, I had left it with one of the women on the third floor of the Regional Health Center.

Afterward, I stopped in at The Framing and Arts Centre where the New School of Colour (My Sisters Place location) is having an art exhibition. Which is called; A Sister Spring Art Exhibition. To my surprise, my painting was already sold. The kind women told me who the buyer was, but I cannot remember their name. So to the buyer of “Plastic Flowers” by Pooks, I just want to thank you. I am grateful, and for purchasing art from the show, you have kept it possible for me to continue what I do. The money goes to the New School of Colour, and they will use it on supplies and whatever else is needed. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

I even received big news yesterday, probably the best news of all. My little sister is pregnant. When she shared the news on Facebook, she also changed her profile picture to a picture I edited of her and I. I know, I love you too sis! She probably wishes I were there in Ottawa with her, but I am here in London. Nevertheless, still rooting her on, and praying that she has a safe and healthy pregnancy. She has always dreamed of being a mother one day, and I know she will make a good one. Yeah, the first time can be scary and stressful. But in the end, when the baby is born, the experience was worth it, and it is overall beautiful. I am proud to be her baby’s Aunt, even if the baby is still incubating. 5 more months to go! You can do it Sister! Eat lots! Stay healthy! Listen to your doctor!


Anyway, I slept in today, missing the New School of Colour at My Sisters Place, which runs from 10 – 11:30am. I’m not really a morning person. But I think it helps having it in the morning. It helps turn my internal, backwards, nocturnal clock around. Even though I did have my alarm set for 7am, I woke up at 10am. Still, I see a positive in it. I’m actually awake in the morning.

I just received confirmation that my painting was received for the Framing the Phoenix Art Exhibition. As well as kind words stating that it is an “intriguing piece.” The show will be April 30th to May 4th. Opening reception is April 30th, 7-9pm at The Arts Project.

On with my day, my Leads appointment has been cancelled by the worker. Hope she’s okay. So I guess I’ll see her in another 2 weeks.

I have a visit with my children this evening, Yaaaay! I love Wednesdays.

So I guess it’s just figuring out what to do with myself until then. I think I might hit the London Food Bank. So that I can have something to eat before my visit. Trust me, I’ll need the energy, my kids are active, which I absolutely love. I also love their imaginations. Every visit is a surprise. I never know what to expect.  – Pooks

The Truth Shall Set You Free!!!!

This is basically the response to my post “Bringing me Down.” As you may notice she has put “crying wolf” in quotations. Why? Because I tweeted “A sheep can only cry wolf so many times b4 ppl stop listening. And I am done” to her. So in her post here she is basically blaming HIS abusive behavior on herself. And yeah, I’m the supposed “bad guy” here for opening my mouth yet again. Honestly I think she seriously needs to consider going to the Womens Community House for some serious counseling on abuse. Also educate herself about abuse. Maybe she wouldn’t be so damn repetitive driving everyone around her fuckin nuts!! Anyway, all her quotes about a “real” friendship that she’s posting on Twitter, guess who that was directed at? Ya guessed it, me. Okay, sorry I ever gave a damn! You’re an idiot, and I am done! I guess that’s what I get for trying to be a friend to someone prescribed on anti-psychotics. She’s a nut job. What the fuck did I expect? I have other friends that are bi-polar, and have O.C.D, that don’t even come close to being as dramatic as this one is.  For my own sanity, I need to walk away from this one.  – Pooks

p.s “A lot of people seemed to have thought I was writing him completely out of my life.” -Mel

Well duh! She not only talked about changing her phone number, but she had staff from The Ark to speak on her behalf to Roy not to harass her anymore otherwise a restriction order would be put in place. So how the fuck did she go from that to “we’re best-friends”? THAT people is called manipulation, and she is a fool to keep falling for it. I should know. I made that mistake 5 years in a row. (Actually more if you include the previous relationship to that and my upbringing/ childhood) I speak from experience. But noooo… “I don’t know what I’m talking about.”  Good Riddance. I don’t want abuse in my life anymore, and I sure as hell won’t support it. – Pooks

Mel's Life

So, it’s been a long time since I wrote my last post. With starting my paid placement at Tim’s, my time has been pretty well spent working, sleeping, and eating. Among a few other things. I’ve also had a lot of time to myself to think about a few things that have really been heavy on my heart and mind lately.

So, as most of you know, after the whole fiasco regarding Roy breaking off the engagement, I simply took that opportunity to ensure that no possible relationship would ever happen again between him and I. I took time to cool off, to think about things, reflect on what has been a really rocky year and a half, and ultimately decided to at least keep Roy in my life as a friend, as that is what we were long before our rocky (to put it lightly) relationship started. A lot…

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Bringing me Down

I know I said I wouldn’t blog about a certain person again. But her drama is getting beyond redundant.  Plus, promises are meant to be broken. Rules are meant to be bent. So don’t make them.

I found out yesterday that she is hanging out with the guy she said it was over with. A guy that disrespects her repeatedly. He’s said awful things to her and treated her like crap. She calls him a “best-friend.” A guy who would make no time for her, unless she gave in with sex.

He laughs in her face during sex. He said she wasn’t worthy of love. He even said he’d probably physically hurt her if they were to ever get married. But no, she keeps running back to this guy. If you ask me, that is one hell of a shitty friend.

Yeah, I’m sure the Christian thing to do is forgive. But when it comes to abuse, you kick them to the curb.

She say’s they are better off as friends, and blah blah blah. I’ve heard this for the past year or two repeatedly over and over. I am getting real tired of this cycle. I no longer want to be involved. She keeps shoving her problems in my face. At first she started with Facebook. so I blocked her so I wouldn’t have to read it. So what did she do? She moves it on over to Twitter and WordPress. I’d be fine if she actually learned something. But she keeps doing the same crap over and over, it get’s depressing.

So after I spoke up,  basically saying what the hell? You said you were done with this guy. She said they are still best-friends, which is where I was like; Ha! Some best-friend you got there. Yeah, yeah, afterward she says “4 types of people: Lifters, Thrusters, Weighters, and Draggers.” I suppose one of those negative things that supposedly hold her back is supposed to be directed at me. Well, I can say the same for her and her pathetic drama. If she wasn’t so desperate to stick it in my face for some reason, I probably wouldn’t have gotten depressed and missed my cash register training coarse.  No idea why she wants me involved, or why I have been chosen to be the person to dump on. But quite honestly, I am done. It is doing me no good. I missed enough shit because I was too concerned with her bullshit, than my own. So the next time this great fabulous guy that buy her things, says something rude and upsets her. She will have to find someone else to dump her shit on. I have taken my toll.

I hate repetition. And that is exactly what she has been doing for the last year or two.

Keep the friends that worth while, well maybe her time is up. She keeps expecting so much from me, while I expect nothing. Besides the fact for her to grow, learn, and evolve as a person, and that isn’t happening. She is stuck on repeat. I offered what I could, it’s not enough, not materialistic enough I guess.

So I am not going to be that person anymore, nor will I let her shit get me down anymore. It is time to let go, and move on.

I no longer want to hear about her problems. I have my own shit to deal with. Her drama just depresses me, and I end up missing what I am supposed to do. No freakin good!

So now she isn’t only blocked on my Facebook, I have her blocked on Twitter as well. She can delete my number from her cell phone. No idea why she even has it. She shouldn’t.  She can admire me from a distance, because our friendship is done. I don’t even want to be around her. She has too much of a mental impact. So I probably won’t be going to the New School of Colour at the Ark anymore. I was fine before she got involved. Now I don’t get much done there anymore. She tries to say it is our other friend that is my distraction. No, the only barrier is her. I get more done at the New School of Colour at My Sisters Place, and at home, than I do at The Ark.

I cannot stand from the sideline watching the same shit happen over and over again. It’s not a mistake anymore. Its a choice, and that’s the shit she chosen for herself.

I guess some people just don’t learn from their mistakes. And I was too attached, too involved, one abused victim trying to help another. Maybe it is time I detach myself from her period. You cannot help someone that doesn’t want the help. Hence, she keeps going back to be treated even more like shit. Wither she says their “just friends” or not.  I heard all that before, and I’m sick of it.

I do hope one day she figures it out, and get’s out of the repetitive bullshit. But I’ve taken in as much as I could, and I cannot do it anymore. – Pooks


That Wondering “Selfish Slut”

So yeah, the last two days has been a lot of reminiscing. But lets go back to the present, and looking toward the future.

This afternoon I attended the London Slut Walk. I was even on the bus with my sign hanging off me on the way there. I had some people look at me. I definitely turned some heads. By the time I got to Victoria Park, the march had already started. I was late. Which shouldn’t be so surprising to the people that know me. Luckily for me though, a man was kind enough to point in the direction the march was heading, and I was able to catch up and blend right in.

The march ended at Richmond Street and Central Avenue, which I’m guessing was probably the starting point as well. Quite a large group of people stuck around for pictures, and to interact with one another. People seemed nice there. People we’re laughing, smiling, it was an awesome experience. It was the third march I have ever participated in.  Other marches I’ve been a part of were for Take Back the Night & Idle No More.

Photos taken by me of the Slut Walk can be seen at

After the Slut Walk I walked around with my sign. When I caught the bus, people would ask how the event went. I even went to Tim Hortons and got an XXL Mocha with my sign still hanging from my neck. Then I walked down the east side of Dundas, heading west, towards the Ark Aid Street Mission. No shame. If I can walk around wearing a yellow skirt and a mustache drawn on my face, I can walk around with a sign.

Anyway, tomorrow is Monday. I got invited to a job fair for an interview. I’ll see how that goes, and I’ll try my best not to blow it. Although, I would like to get this school prep done, before I begin a job. But hey, it’s the first response back in awhile. So, I might as well give it a shot.

I was supposed to drop off a painting at the Regional Health Care Centre last Thursday, but that didn’t happen. I haven’t been sleeping until the sun rises, so by the time I wake up, the business hours are over. Hopefully I turned that around today. I only had 5 hours of sleep, no nap during the day. I am fighting off sleep currently,  and it is only 11pm. So I can also add dropping off the painting to my to-do list tomorrow.

I also need to stop by the library and print off papers that were e-mailed to me, so that things will be ready this time around for the Settlement Conference on May 9th. C.A.S will be closing our file, and they won’t be involved anymore. It’s hard to believe it’s been just about 8 years. And since I was a foster child long ago, from the time I was 2 years old to 6 years old. Yeah. All together that is 12 years with C.A.S in my life. That’s almost half my life. I’m 30 years old. Wow.

I guess I need to also check in with Merrymount, so that a third party can be involved, just so that my ex doesn’t think that just because C.A.S are no longer involved, he has permission to be a harassing jerk. Not tomorrow though, it seems as though that I will be busy enough as is. I’ll have to check my planner and see where I can squeeze in the time for that.

I need to get a hold of my band office in Pikangikum, been waiting for letter of permission granting NNEC to financially assist my education, and I still have not heard anything back. A good friend told me not to sit around and wait, and to get on them about it, because they probably forgot and are distracted with other things.

So there is a lot I need to do, there is more. But I try not to think too far ahead, otherwise I will overwhelm myself to the point where I am freaking out.

Not to mention, I still need to do my income taxes. Every day I plan to, it just doesn’t work out. I sleep in Saturdays. Mondays and Wednesdays usually get booked with other things. Those are the three days I can get it done if I want to do my taxes at The Crouch Library, or The Goodwill Career Centre. I was supposed to have them done at the beginning of the month for First Nation Housing.

Since I got accepted into University, the more my weeks get booked. The only day I have available this week will be Thursday. The rest of the week has been called for. It’s insane. It’s getting crazy.

I do worry that I will have a hard time adjusting to the change. Going from being able to do things at my own pace, to doing things so rapidly at the worlds pace. But I’ve been on financial assistance for about a decade or so, it’s about time I at least try to get out of it.

This art and writing thing is taking me somewhere. I wouldn’t be Pooks if I hadn’t gone to the New School of Colour and signed my first painting I did in years with the nick name Pooks. I created something marketable. I’ve given myself something to be recognized by.

One opportunity leads to another. Even though I’m not entirely sure where it is taking me. Sure people accuse me of being selfish. But I think of it as being courageous enough to follow my heart as opposed to being selfish. I am becoming what I was meant to be.  Sure my mom says I’m a fuck up. But you don’t learn squat from not making mistakes. So I am seeing the positive in her insult. Possibly my fear isn’t necessarily failure, but the fear of not knowing what will happen if I succeed. Sometimes I think I think too much, and that can be a strength, as well as a weakness. Perhaps I should just relax, and see where this path takes me. Enjoy the ride, rather than trying to analyze it all the time. Haha!

Things are good. I need to stop worrying so much, because worrying just creates unnecessary stress. I must be a glutton for it. Always doing things the hard way. If it’s not challenging, the end result wouldn’t be as great. The harder the challenge, the more I learn. Maybe I just like to keep things interesting for myself, otherwise I would be bored. – Pooks

“Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again, this time more intelligently.” – Henry Ford

Overlapping Layers of Shame (Part 2)


I knew it. Regarding my last post, and a poster I created for the Slut Walk 2013, I would get ignorant rude remarks in return.

Earlier on Facebook, a guy that I met through a friend, that basically just wants to get me in bed. Which is so not happening. Especially not after today. Not that he had a chance to begin with, the feeling is not mutual. Ya know? I really don’t want to be involved with another pot-head, and whatever other drugs he does. I got enough shit to deal with, I don’t need to be taking on more immature bullshit. Plus, I don’t go out with younger men. I prefer them to be older than I.

There was only one guy I let that rule slide with, and that was with a best-friend I lost touch with years ago. He was a couple months younger than me. Not years!

So I posted an image of the poster I created last night for the London Solidarity Slut Walk. And I think this guy creeps around my facebook and blog, so yeah. He more than likely read my last post. Anyway, I tagged the image for my Facebook page, which he thought was just hilarious. Laughing at the name of it: Pooks, the Alien Goddess.  Yeah, I feel like an alien most of the time. Not really fitting in anywhere. So that is where that comes from. The Goddess part comes from the Pablo Picasso quote: “There are only two types of women – goddesses and doormats.”  A doormat is passive pushover. I use to be like that at one point, but not anymore.

Anyway, the comments that took place below my posted picture of my Slut Walk  poster…

Guy: King pooky

Pooks82: I was born a King yo! 😛 Lol

Guy: I like that alien princess


Pooks82: Yeah, I’m an alien, and many other things. A maggot, A shadow Soldier, A Rainbow Ninja, a Young Grasshopper, a Tinkerbell Samurai, and so on and so forth.

Guy: Yes many names they call

Pooks82: The force is strong in this one. Bwahahaha!! LOL

Guy: They also call her bitch slit whore and rebel walker without a cause

Guy: Darkside of the force

Pooks82: A rebel, yes. But the other names? Do you really wanna go there? You’re walking a fine line at the moment. Choose your words wisely.

Guy: LOL no no

Guy: jk

Pooks82: So be it. I am also known for being intolerant.   😉 BYE!

Kicked to the curb he goes! I do not tolerate disrespect, nor do I find ridiculing and belittling funny. That’s some sick twisted fucked up humor, and I’m not laughing. An apology would have been more appreciated, than saying it’s a joke. No, insults, name – calling, that is not a joke. I don’t tolerate it from anyone. Not even my own son. Although my son, I am more forgiving towards, because look who he learns from; My ex. And as his mother, I still have a chance to teach him about bullying and verbal abuse.

Yeah, I’ve been called many slandering names in the past. I never rubbed his past about being a drug addict in his face! Supposedly with Teen Challenge, and found Christ, yet still doing drugs. Rrright!! Trying to impress me with stupidity about almost getting into a scrap with someone like that is so manly. Umm.. no. The men with balls are out there supporting the women and children, fighting for them.  They are at One Billion Rising, and events like the Slut Walk. They are the ones that actually respect women, and try to make a difference for their families and the future. Those kind of battles are more worthy, than a pointless scrap on the street.

So yeah, I’ve been slightly ticked off today. But not surprised. Considering what my last blog post was about, I was kind of expecting an ignorant smart ass to come along. Voila! One did.

So what if I am not so easy to get into bed?! This guy was so disappointed by that. It is my choice. My body. My rules. A man worth my time will accept and respect that. If I don’t feel like it, I don’t feel like it. It doesn’t make me a slut.

And yeah, I had a past where I picked up hookers, and had a threesome. Point is, it is in the past. Who I was then, is not who I am now. Back then I did not respect, love, or value myself. These days are a lot different.

I guess who I am now gets often called a bitch or a lesbian, because I say “no.” Some men just cannot handle rejection. Tough shit.

I admit, when it comes to sex, during the act of sex, it is hard for me to remain focused without remembering some old guy on top of me saying: “You like that huh? You dirty bitch! ” Or shit like that. Staying present without some kind of fucked up flashback. Yeah, I got issues.

My ex constantly needing it and harassing me for it didn’t help. After awhile I found myself thinking: “Just get it over with.” Anything remotely special about it was gone. Plus there was a time, I remember having sex with him, I was all happy and perky for a change. We went out for a smoke afterward, and he said something rude and degrading. I cannot remember exactly what he said. But I remember that transition between feeling happy, to feeling regret and kind of disgusted. I wished I could have taken that moment back, because he didn’t deserve it.

So the next guy, if there will ever be a next guy, will have to be real freakin patient and understanding. Also prove to me that he is nothing like any of those bad experiences. So yeah, if a guy is truly interested, he will understand that it will take time for me to be able to fully trust, let alone give my body. I see my body as a gift, it should be treated that way. Something I have the choice to give or not.

A year ago, I did sleep with a man who I thought was worthy. But then he turns around and ignores me. I guess he got what he wanted. Oh wait, he was complaining about his back. He said the doctors said it was depression. Then he just cut me off.  Not a word. If I’m what is making that person so depressed, then it’s a good thing we went separate ways.  I don’t believe that is what I do. In public, I am always laughing. I put my own struggles aside, to try to cheer someone else up. I make a fool of myself just for the sake of others laughter. I don’t see what is so depressing about that. Yeah, I have sleeping problems ,  I’m on financial assistance, and I’m not the most organized person, I struggle. If you are going to judge me for that, two words; fuck you!

So I am being even more cautious about my pace. If that is a problem for someone, their not worth it. Simple as that. There is nothing wrong with respecting myself, and treating my body the way it should be. It is my gift to give. Not something that can be taken for granted and just treated as if it were free for the taking. – Pooks

“If you want to be respected by others, the great thing is to respect yourself. Only by that, only by self-respect will you compel others to respect you.”- Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Overlapping Layers of Shame

Well I got accepted into U.W.O, and I am starting to feel the pressure. Starting to worry.

Not only that, my last blog was like my own personal slap in the face of realization of my own demons. So I have been a bit down about that. Hence, being nocturnal for over a week.  But that is not what I am going to write about today.

I figure since the Solidarity Slut Walk is coming up here in London, Ontario. It takes place this weekend at Victoria Park. The slut walk is basically a march/ protest to end victim blaming and sex shaming for all bodies. So this post will be about a topic that is…well…shamed upon; sex. I know, that’s pretty shocking coming from someone so elusive as myself.

I’m sure my ex is laughing right now, saying; yeah right, elusive. He believes wholeheartedly that I am a slut, or a whore. Well, the only reason he thinks that, and spreads such rumors is because he got denied. A case of blue balls. I do not understand why men do that, not all men. But some men are seriously immature. Just because a women isn’t easy, doesn’t make her a slut. That doesn’t make any freakin sense!

Plus, I wasn’t the one banging someone else a week before our son was born.  I’m pretty sure there were other women too. So perhaps the name calling is guilt. Whose the real slut here?

Oh wait, before we had kids. My birthday of 2004, he was all sketching out at a grocery store. I got fed up with his behavior, he was acting like a junkie! He was wrecking my birthday. So hell yeah, I ditched him. If he can’t give me a good birthday, then I will. Which I did. I went home and masturbated. The creep that he is, peeked through my mail slot, only seeing my feet. He’s accused me of cheating since, and I’ve been called names and disrespected since. Yeah, I was fingering myself. It was a lot better than having my day wrecked by a complete sketch bag that believed the C.I.A was after him.

Anyway, my sex life. It’s no wonder I am the way I am. I shoot down a lot of men. The moment they so much as bring up sex I shoot them down. I get turned off. I am more attracted to intelligence, and kindness. I don’t want a man that see’s me as a piece of meat, or treats me like a trophy. I am not an object, I am a person with emotions. I’m sure some men would probably accuse me of being a lesbian, or sexist. I really don’t like being constantly bugged for sex. I think it’s annoying. After awhile, it becomes a chore, and it’s only my partner that is getting off. While I’m like; Whoopideedoo! Ya know? Yeah, my sex drive has kinda died down over the years. Naturally, around my moon time, I admit I get excited. As well as kinda emotionally psycho. P.M.S tends to do that. But that is natural, my body is ovulating, and has an urge to mate. I can take care of that myself for the time being, thank you very much!

Sorry I want a man that doesn’t want me just for sex. I want someone to be able to see past their dick, with their heart, and love my soul for what it is. I also want to be able to be proud of my partner, be able to encourage and root them on. That is kind of hard to do when they are so wrapped up  and can’t give up their thief/ criminal life style.

So lets rewind here, I’m sure there is more to why I am the way I am.

Before my ex I was seeing an older man voluntarily. I had gotten out of a different abusive relationship, and was self destructive. Me and this older man would meet at a bar, and go bar hopping. He’d buy the alcohol, but then afterward; sex. I just let him do whatever. I didn’t care. The ex I left was going around calling me a slut anyway.

There was a time at a coffee shop, I couldn’t even walk with a friend and this abuser would walk right behind me putting me down. “Slut.” “You’re a skank.” “Fuckin whore.” He’s the one I just “gave a chance” to. I fell for the “Oh, you’re just being shallow” bullshit. Tip of advice; if your not interested in a guy, do not “give him a chance.” I ended up regretting that, and learning the hard way. That relationship took a lot out of my self-esteem. There’s reasons why I barely talk about that one. For instance; he was a pedophile ( I didn’t find out until after, because when I met him, he lied and said he was a student) , he held a B.B gun to my head…etc. There is a lot of traumatizing events that took place. He even killed the pit-bull that tried to protect me. That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I know one day I will have to deal with it. But for now, I just try to erase him from my memory.

Anyway, back to the older man, there even came a point where I was on the street picking up hookers for him. We’d have a threesome. I’m sure that sounds all exciting and whatnot, but it really wasn’t, the girl was high out of her face. She was like a corpse. Another time I tried to pick up a different girl, she was all for it for me, but not for the man. So he dropped her off at a bridge. I remember her looking back at me, she was worried. Begged for me to go with her, but I wouldn’t.

Does that make me a lesbian? No. So what if I’ve made out and fingered some women?! I’ve even randomly kissed girls at a bar and almost got my ass kicked by a woman’s boyfriend.

Maybe I just have a male alter ego when I drink. And maybe I use it as a shield.  The guardian protecting the lady within. I did mention in previous posts there is a bit of a duality to me. The reserved, and the “crazy”. Well perhaps the crazy side of me feels safer taking on a male like alter ego. I guess it kinda makes sense. Abusive men. Gotta protect myself somehow. As for my mom, she usually “behaved” when a man was present. Like when my dad would get home from work, hush hush, nothing happened. I don’t know, read more. It might make sense later.

Back on track here. The older man, What changed? For one thing, I met my ex. I thought he would be different. I was getting sick of being called names during sex. Called a bitch, a whore…it made me angry. In a situation where I thought I had no control over, I found out I did. This guy was all about power trips. He loved to feel dominate during sex. So when he asked if I wanted him to cum or not, I said “yes”, knowing he would do the opposite of what I say. Therefore, I realized I was in control . I picked up my clothes, and ditched him. The last time I ever saw him was the time he came to my door and he saw me at my apartment, with my now ex. His last words; “Have a good life.”

This guy had quite the fantasy. It was almost like a “Pretty Woman” fantasy. He wanted to go public. Because everything we use to do was supposedly hush hush, but very public. He pictured me in a blue and white polka dotted dress, dressed as a lady, accompanying him on the golf coarse. So he wanted me to be dressed as his “lady”, but his sex object that he can do what he will, even disrespect, behind closed doors.

Anyway, Stupid me for thinking my ex would treat me better.

But this even goes farther back. My sister hitting puberty, and getting interested in boys. I didn’t have much of that phase. And when I did, I kept it to myself.

My sister and my dad use to get along fine, before my sisters hormones kicked in. The more she got gaga for boys, the more annoyed my dad got.

I love my dad, I just wish he could have treated my sister differently. She was raped  by selfish pricks, both times I felt powerless. I remember my dad saying it was her fault. Him and my brothers would be calling her a slut behind her back. Hearing this, made me ashamed of my own sexuality. It kinda put a stigma on sex in my mind. And how I tried to gain acceptance from my mom, my abuser over the years. My sister tried to be accepted by my dad and other men. It truly hurt her, but it also effected me.

So unlike my sister, who dressed feminine and showed her figure. There is nothing wrong with that. I dressed like a boy. I even went to the extremes of a freak. My make up would be somewhat Gothic. In high-school some kids would say I was a “clown with glasses”. The way I saw it; As long as I wasn’t sexually appealing, the better.

I am still somewhat tom-boyish to this day. I would rather wear baggy clothes, then those that are tightly fitted. Even though I get called a slut and whore anyway. Whatever. So perhaps the reason I am so elusive, is because I have been through a lot of shit that has made me ashamed of my own sexuality. There! I said it!

It doesn’t matter if your promiscuous or not, you’re gonna get called a slut. It doesn’t matter if you show your figure or not, you’re gonna get called a slut. That is not fair to women,  we deserve better than to be treated like objects. A mans dildo for whenever he pleases. We are much more than that.

Women do it as well. We seem to put each-other down. There’s this stupid annoying competitiveness I always run into within groups of friends over the years. Or jealousy.  Look at my mom, she had the nerve to call me a rez whore, a false accusation. Another person I use to call my best-friend at one point, belittled me for  wearing tighter clothing for a change, and called me a hooch.  Obviously, not a very good friend at all.

But that seems to be a life of a woman, an on-going battle for respect. Even though we do the same thing to each-other. So much insecurities. Rather than putting each-other down, I think we need to give out more compliments and praise. Lift each-other up for a change.

So yeah, yay me for actually being open about sex for a change. For sharing this with you. I do have trust issues. I think you can see why.   I am ashamed of my own sexuality. More stuff for me to work on, but at least it’s not bottled up anymore.

The other good news I have is that I have an intake appointment at S.O.A.H.A.C for counseling next week. So as hard as it may be to face some things, I will have support to get me through it. Especially with this on coming transition. I’ve been on financial assistance for a decade or more, so yeah. A change like going to school is huge.

Anyway, I will be attending the Solidarity Slut Walk on Sunday. I believe it sends out a positive message.  – Pooks

“Shame should be reserved for the things we choose to do, not the circumstances that life puts on us.” – Ann Patchett