Chosen

Thank you to all the people who have chosen me in my life.

From my first boyfriend who gave me all of our many firsts to my ex-husband who at least chose me for a time at least I was chosen and wanted at some point in my life by someone. Someone who wanted me and chose to commit to me and building a life with me for whatever time we had.

I don’t know if I will ever have that again with anyone so I can’t help but be grateful for the times I was chosen as a partner as someone desirable to have around. Whatever my flaws or features, I was wanted.

The callous that’s been protecting my heart for so long is falling away. Just as I prayed it would. And as it falls further and further away there’s a lot of pain and sadness. Feelings I haven’t allowed myself to feel and thoughts I haven’t allowed myself to think. Now they come crashing in like a damn tsunami. Such it is.

I’m sad sometimes. I am scared sometimes. But I’m always alone. I want a relationship with someone who chooses me every day. I want flowers for no reason. I want birthday presents from the one who loves me. I want vacations and date nights. I want a life partner who will walk alongside me and encourage me in our journey. I want to wake up and feel the warmth of his body in my bed. I want to feel his strong body next to mine. I want to watch him sleep and be the first thing he sees when he wakes.

One day, maybe I will be blessed with a loving, long-lasting, blessed by God relationship where I will feel wholly accepted, deeply loved, and chosen. And I will choose him. Every day. Every moment. For all of my remaining breaths and beyond, I will choose my partner and invest in us with every action, thought, and dream. Just as I would hope for him to do the same for us. One day, I want to forget what it felt like to feel alone, scared and sad. I want to forget the feelings but hold dearly to the lessons so as to never feel this way again. I want to build with someone. I want to build down, not out, not up, but down deep… grow roots and find water, let the tendrils of love sink deep and far into the souls we share and interweave so firmly as to never be broken or unbound. I want the depth of unconditional love for my partner, similar to that love of a child; deep, unbreakable, unconditional, altruistic, peaceful, wholesome love that restores faith, breeds hope, and is strong enough to endure growing pains and struggle that is innate to all relationships.

I will lift my eyes to God and rely on Him and his timing to make this a reality. He knows the needs of my heart and he will deliver in his own time and him own way. I will keep dreaming and hoping for the day when He answers. ❤️🙏🏼

Prayerfully,

The Repressed Peach

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So tell me about yourself…

Well let me tell you… I don’t really have a good response to an inquiry of this nature. What do you want to know? What are you curious about? What suppositions have you made about me that I can refute for you?

The basics. Let’s start there.

I moved around quite a bit as a young child. I grew up mostly in Arizona but I have a few formative years in Tennessee as well as Wisconsin.

Abuse was rampant in my household. As the eldest child of three I was witness to many atrocities of the human condition. Physical abuse. Sexual abuse. Drug abuse. Extreme poverty. Homelessness. Endangered children. Dirty, hungry, sad children. Children with no parenting. It was an awful environment. One that I knew I needed to remove myself from. School became my refuge. Teachers were my confidants. I sought solace in my friends and their parents. Life continued this way for the majority of my upbringing.

When I turned 18 I got my first tattoo. Two weeks later I graduated high school. Two weeks after that I moved out of my mom’s house. Six months later I moved back to Wisconsin with $400 in my pocket and my Honda Civic hatchback packed to the hilt. I drove myself across the country during a time in which cell phones were not common or affordable. With nowhere to officially live and no job, I started a life of my own on my own. My aunt helped me find roommates and let me sleep on her sofa for a couple weeks until I got connected. Within a couple days I landed four different jobs in various industries. This was early January 1998 so it was cold and snowy but my Arizona blood quickly acclimated to the new environment. Soon after my arrival in Wisconsin I got the itch to get into college. I didn’t know anything about how to apply for college. I didn’t know how I could pay for it. I didn’t know where to even start. As a first generation high school graduate from an impoverished family, I hadn’t the faintest idea about what college entailed or how I was supposed to gain access to the enchanted buildings that seemed to only open for those magic wand bearing individuals with silver spoons dangling from their nectar-laden lips. I just knew education was what I needed. Somehow I managed to enroll in community college and earned a couple credits in early childhood education. I finally had health insurance through my employer and had dental coverage too so one day I went the dentist for a routine cleaning and the hygienist asked me about school. I told her about my few classes at community college. She then proceeded to tell me about her daughter who had joined the Air National Guard to get her education paid for. I hadn’t ever even heard of the Guard or the Air Force for that matter. Truly I thought it was just something from Top Gun… I had no idea it was a real branch of the military. So, within two weeks of that conversation with the hygienist I went to the Recruiter and enlisted in the US Air Force. Not the reserves, not the Guard, but active duty US Air Force. And so began the best chapter of the rest of my life. Although I separated from the military eight years ago, I feel as though it was the absolute best decision of my life. I’m still reaping the rewards of enlistment all these years later. In fact, it would’ve been 18 years ago this past July that I started my military career. Boy does time fly when life is happening like it should and good things are taking place.

To date, I’ve been in education for seven years and going into my 8th academic year. I have held many positions in education so far. Special education inclusion teacher, English teacher, special education department chairperson, assistant soccer coach, head soccer coach, class sponsor, ARD Facilitator, and now, my current position as school counselor. I’ve spent my time serving in education in various forms and while I’ve been here for some time I feel like I’m still getting to know who I am and how to function. Part of that is all of the changes I’ve had but all of them have been good for me; I’ve grown and learned so much. Regarding my current role as counselor I feel like I have finally achieved my ultimate goal. I’ve dreamed of this day for years. I can remember all the way back to fifth grade and talking with my friend about what I wanted to be when I grew up and distinctly remember saying I wanted to be a counselor. I wanted to work with kids who have faced the problems I had as a kid. I wanted to be for someone else what my teachers were for me and MORE! I toyed with the idea a couple times and thought maybe I would be a child psychologist or something but quickly went back to counseling when I realized psychologists only wrote prescriptions and research papers. Not my cup of tea. At all. I want to talk. I want to provide guidance. I want to cry alongside my students and listen with open ears and heart. I want to connect them to the agencies who can help. I want to guide them through the college or career paths they will face. I want to walk alongside them as they choose their paths for adulthood. So here I am… ready, willing, and very capable of giving everything they need and want to be successful young people.

Here are a few random things about me:

I have six tattoos. I want a couple more.

I have been skydiving.

I have gone on two humanitarian missions with the military.

I know more about the human eye than most anyone wants to know.

I have had two miscarriages and have one living teenage child.

I love the Green Bay Packers, San Antonio Spurs and the UW Badgers.

I’m a sports fan and enjoy watching nearly all sports.

I played soccer in high school and on an adult co-ed league.

I’ve played quite a few other sports too.

I’m Christian but not religious.

I believe in light, love, faith, good karma, warm nights, hot baths, cold drinks, strong hugs, the giggle of babies, and true love heal all that ails our world.

Motherhood is the best gift God ever gave me.

Garbage in=garbage out. I cannot watch videos or movies depicting humans defiling other humans in any shape or form. It isn’t entertainment to me and it poisons my heart and soul. I have to protect my soul from evils like that.

I’m not perfect (read any other post in this blog for evidence) but I aim to be a good person and do right by others.

I’m passionate about what I believe and rejoice in it often.

Few people truly know me although many think they have me pegged.

I’m constantly brewing with ideas and theories about endless facets of the human condition although I have no audience or group in which to volley those ideas.

I’ve been in love 3 times but only one man holds the keys to my heart and he’s the man of my dreams although he isn’t mine.

Married once and divorced once.

I’ve secretly (well not so much anymore I guess…) thought I was capable of being a bodybuilder.

The home I live in is the first home I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve always had to live in other people’s homes but never my own until now. And I built it.

I rarely get sick.

I love spicy food, Thai food, hearty meals, and light fare.

I like a good beer, Crown Royal and Dr Pepper, or glass of wine for special occasions or in social situations. Otherwise my favorite beverages are coffee, Dr. Pepper and unsweet iced tea.

My real dad and step dad have both died.

I don’t suffer any addictions.

I cry easily and often. When I laugh, when I’m sad, touched by a song or gesture, kindness, a good song, spiritual movements, and more.

I love to read.

I love to learn.

I’m not a great cook but can make some mean peach cobbler.

I’m a great teacher and decent writer.

I try to always remember where I came from so I never lose sight of where I’m going.

Humility and kindness go very far in any situation.

And to put my feather in my cap, my son thinks I’m pretty dope, a great mom and that I understand him better than anyone.

I don’t know if any of this will develop into anything more but I think it’s important to sometimes sit back and take stock of who you are and what you’re about. I feel like I’ve been reacting a lot lately and it was high time for introspection.

Humbly yours,

The Repressed Peach

Happy again

I wrote a post a couple months ago about this sense of sadness that was the undertone for all other emotions. And you know it’s been a minute since I’ve felt true happiness. I can’t say that I’m entirely there just yet, but I can say that I’m definitely on the upswing. I haven’t felt the need to cry humongous alligator tears over my heartache. I don’t feel a deep sense of foreboding. I don’t feel the full weight of the breakup on my shoulders every day. My thoughts aren’t consumed anymore. The songs I listen to speak to all aspects of my life instead of just my heart. Conversations I have don’t spark an immediate memory of us. It’s a good shift. It is a shift supported by some doctor prescribed chemical compounds that have altered my perception but I’m feeling some possible long term effects.

What we had will never be less than it was. Never. No matter how much time passes, what anyone says, or what we do about it… it will always be the best 5 years of my entire life. I will always relish our days, moments, sacred times. I will hold you close to my heart forever. I have just found that it’s not necessary for me to be sad anymore. I can be happy and still love you. I can be happy and still wish you happiness I can be happy and move forward with life. I’m working on the depths of happiness in the facets of life. Like finding happiness in the breeze outside, the beautiful melody of the wind-chime, the cool fresh air on my skin, a freshly made bed of clean sheets, the giggle of a baby nearby, a cold strong drink after a hard day’s work, and so much more. Happiness is being found in the usual moments of the gift of life God has given me. I’m grateful. I’m thankful. I’m blessed. And I’m peacefully happy.

I’m still a work in progress. Far from a finished masterpiece with many layers left to discover about myself and the world around me, and with fortitude, peace, happiness and good friends, I will find a deep spring of happiness that will run my whole life long.

Lovingly yours,

The Repressed Peach

Affirmations

The story of me and who I am never ends. I am constantly a work of progress and sewn together with multiple strands of inspiration, hope, love, and encouragement. Sometimes those strands get tangled, and some might even break, but at the end of what I hope and envision is a masterpiece of life, the picture will be clear and the images where they’re supposed to be. At times, I feel the tangle, I can feel the stress on the threads before it breaks and in those times I need to find my footing again. I need to find balance and peace that comes from within. I’ve found in past versions of myself and in past experiences that affirmations are very powerful for me. So, I find myself in a place where affirmations might be the thing that propels me toward my more complete masterpiece. Here’s my first draft:

1.  Fall in love with who you are.

This season I’ve been in has caused me to lose sight of who I am and what I’m about. My confidence has been shaken and it’s taking a heavy toll on my soul and body. I have to get me back. Back into my greatest shape mentally, emotionally, financially, and physically. My spiritual confidence is destroyed right now so that has to be a great area of focus.

2. Focus on the now. Limit distractions. 

Like so many others, I find myself distracted by things that ought not be a priority. Social media is just perused out of boredom and escape from reality. I gain little from the abundance of time I spend checking, reading, deleting, reacting, etc to the steady stream of shit that flows from social media. Limiting that will ensure I avail myself to the things I need to do to improve my life.

3. Be brave. 

Like my confidence, my sense of bravery has wavered. I’ve found myself thinking pitifully about myself and my situation. Well, lemme tell ya, ain’t nobody got time fo’ that! Pity parties are for the feeble minded. I am not and will not allow myself to participate in that crap anymore. I will stand tall, be brave, and have confidence in what I am doing in all things great and small. I’m going to work on this characteristic. I must improve.

I will add more or edit as I make progress in my affirmations but I think this is a great place to start. I have to remember who I am and why I am who I am. Hopefully, I will remember soon and start acting accordingly. 😊

Thoughtfully,

The Repressed Peach

Scars

Few people know the details of my upbringing and all that I had to watch, suffer through, and recover from. The horrors of life were ever present in my life from the time I was a small infant to my older teenage years. This included trauma and chaos at school too. Few people realize how badly I was tormented as a child in school. I had several factors stacked against me. First, I have a unique first name that rhymes with colorful, nasty words (think: “Nicky likes _____.”); I have red hair, and my maiden name was Crisp. To add to the fun, I was also miserably poor. My mom was a single mom of three kids and we had a horrible life full of drugs, neglect, abuse (every kind you can define), and homelessness. We moved from house to house, often lived with my grandparents, worked in their restaurant, and struggled to find any sense of stability. It was awful to say the least. Nobody should have to live like that. In the midst of it all, I found a love for school. I loved school and the teachers. I thrived in school at every opportunity. I loved my teachers and clung to them for safety and security. They were my beacons of hope for a different life.  A life that I deserved. A life that I could make for myself if I just tried hard enough and made good decisions toward. The sad part about this is that school was not safe for me either. I was tormented for all the things that made me unique. I was called names, teased mercilessly, rumors spread about me, and ridiculed at every turn. I remember it was in 4th grade that things started to get really ugly. I was manipulated into thinking I was doing things wrong, that I wasn’t a good friend, and that I was not worthy of friendship, love, or life. I remember walking home from the bus stop crying my eyes out every single day of 4th, 5th, and most of 6th grade. Nobody helped me. Nobody stood up for me. My mom did nothing. The school did nothing. The teachers did nothing. The bus drivers did nothing. My friends cowered behind the bullies thankful they weren’t the targets of such pain. I cried in humiliation, fear, sadness and thought that maybe I didn’t deserve to live. I never attempted to take my life, but if it weren’t for the grace of God, and His divine intervention, I could have lost all hope for better days. Some of the people I am connected to today on social media were my bullies. They’ve never apologized. We’ve never been close. But they are part of why I am who I am today. I don’t see myself as a victim of anything in life, I see myself as a survivor and I am thriving. However, I do not aim to minimize my experiences. In fact, I aim to highlight that life is hard and kids can be cruel, but with time, healing, and good guidance even the worst of the worst can be made good.

I have to remember this in the season I am in right now.

See, my son has become the target of bullying. He has been hit in the face on several occasions, his books and band instrument taken away from him and thrown on the ground, he’s been called names and ridiculed in front of his peers. All while at school, with teachers, cameras, and a wonderful thing called “David’s Law” are in place. And despite all of these things, here we are, 30 years later, and I am replaying the trauma I experienced as a young girl. My trauma does not equal his trauma, but it has prepared me to face this issue head on and with a fierceness that only a parent can muster when their child is being mistreated. The scars of my past have been opened a bit and my unspent tears are being shed in love for my son, the sweetest, most gentle, kind-hearted person the world has known. He is a smart, kind, talented, warm, friendly, inquisitive, joyful, God-loving, encouraging, funny 12 year old. He is all of this and so much more. Thankfully, he doesn’t have any “flaws” stacked against him that makes him an easy target, but here he is being tormented and assaulted at school. I can’t figure out what has caused this other child to lash out against my son. To add fuel to the already volatile situation, the perpetrator in this case is the principal’s son. Lovely.

Ironically, before the first days of 7th grade, my son’s school held what was called “Prep Days” where you get your school ID, class schedule, and find the classrooms on your schedule. While we were there, I spoke with the principal and the assistant principals about a series of inappropriate activities that occurred on the school bus that ran through my neighborhood the year before. Several students had shared that inappropriate sexual activities were taking place between kids on the bus and several fights broke out, too. Well, when I addressed these concerns all of the principals were baffled at the information as though they had never heard of anything like that. They claimed nobody had reported any of this misbehavior and had no knowledge of any parental concerns about what was happening on the bus. The principal even had a dismissive tone as I spoke with him. Red flags went up all over my brain. Not a good impression. And definitely not a good sign of things to come in the given situation.

Nobody deserves to go through this experience. Yet we know that so many kids are victims of bullying and so many suffer in silence. So many kids don’t have anyone to tell. They don’t have anyone to fight for them. They have no voice to be heard and nobody advocates for the mistreatment to stop. Thankfully there are societal changes taking shape, but the abuse happens faster than laws can be passed or lives saved. I will ensure that I use every single resource at my disposal to ensure my son’s safety and that of others. I will not stand idle by and watch my son or any other child abused like this. I know the depth at which these experiences affect you and the pain that stays with you most of your life. I know the helplessness one feels when faced with bullying and mistreatment. Know this: I will advocate for the safety of all children at this school. I will go to any length necessary to achieve the desired results. I will spare no expense in my endeavors.

I may have scars from my childhood, but I am going to use them as badges of honor in my fight. My bullies had their day, but I will have mine in the demand for this to cease for my child.

Expressly,

The Repressed Peach

Dreaming

Goodness how my mind likes to take a break from the facade of trying to not miss you and let’s me drink you all in and enjoy you to the fullest. My mind let down its guard last night and dreamt of you. I dreamed that you were sick and had some medical testing done. Somehow, I arrived to the medical center and you greeted me with wide stretched, open arms and gave me a huge hug while telling me how much you missed me and then gave me a nice kiss in front of God and everyone.

It was so beautiful.

I needed that so much. Mentally, emotionally, physically, I needed your embrace. Even if it was just in my mind, I saw you and felt you as though it all really happened. God I don’t know what to make of it all. Some days it’s like I need to go to an institution and other days it feels so blissfully surreal that I must be having some tantric out of body experience. My heart hurts so much more than I allow it to acknowledge. My soul hurts so badly. My body aches and craves your touch that I actually feel starved. The depth at which I hurt is commensurate to the depth of how much I loved you. And still do.

My dreams are a testament to the longings of my soul. In my heart, I still want you. I want you to choose me. I want you to love me. And I want to be happiest with you all the rest of my days.

Last Friday was your birthday and I celebrated you from afar. I sent you a little love note just to share the celebration but I got no response. And that’s ok. But I would be lying if some part of me didn’t wish to hear back from you just to say “thanks” if nothing else. It’s hard not to miss you. It’s hard to not wish I could be with you right now. It’s all so hard and so sad.

Happy birthday, baby. I love you.

💔

Always on my mind and forever in my heart,

The Repressed Peach

Judgment.

Judgment is a very heavy word and yet it carries so many variations in meaning. Some use the word lightly and in amusing ways such as “don’t judge me and the kind of music I listen to” and others refer to it in biblical terms like “hell fire and brimstone”. Depending on the conversation, you might find both uses satisfyingly appropriate or not at all. Judgment has its place in society. It’s a testament of our values and our position on different topics and behaviors. Ultimately, it’s a reflection of our truths. Your truth is your perspective and your perspective is gained through experience. Everyone’s life is made up of experiences; some are good, others are bad, and some are down right awful. And yet, these experiences shape us into who we are. While judgment has its place and serves a purpose, there are times when judgment is ugly and comes from a place of hate. This is what I’m finding in some social circles. Not everyone can wrap their head around my life experiences and many certainly struggle with the tales of my love life. Vastly, I’ve received love and support from people near and dear to me. Strangers here have offered their two cents and given kind advice. Yet, there are others who don’t express any sympathy or offer any support for me in this. I get it… I know that some people cannot accept certain things about people. I know that others have varied life experiences that cause such disdain for certain aspects of life. Even more so, society has taken a serious stance about love affairs backed by religious teachings, idioms, and quips. With this said though, love affairs are scarcely different than any other woe life throws at you. Parenting troubles, financial ruin, marriage and divorce, homelessness, infertility, drug abuse, addiction, etc. all maintain parallels with love affairs that few people care to acknowledge. People dismiss the idea of a love affair as something someone chose or something that could’ve been avoided. Something that only sleazy human beings engage in. Immoral, baseless scums of the world are the perpetrators akin to pedophiles and rapists. However, the judgment so easily cast by those who’ve never experienced either side of the scenario lack understanding and intel. I could’ve no easier controlled who I fell in love with than the color of my hair or skin tone. I didn’t set out to fall in love with a married man. I didn’t go to work at a specific place to meet my soulmate. I didn’t get put in the same office as this man so that I could wreak havoc on his and my own life. No. I didn’t set out for this course purposefully. In fact, I planned exactly the opposite in regard to relationships. I made vows to myself that I found to be incredibly hard to maintain as I got to know this man. I realized with each passing day, that no matter what I did, I could not resist him and he couldn’t resist me either. It was something cosmic, something so much bigger than just a tasteless, lust-filled, carnal act. Yet again, it was exactly the opposite; it was a rich, life-giving, passionate, eye opening, life-changing experience. Unlike the judgment and the social constructs that ridicule and shame this type of relationship, I found myself full of love, able to love deeper than ever before, and soulfully connected to my mate.  The love I developed, and the love I still have for this man, was deeper and more intense than any other feeling I’ve had in my life. Love stories are made of this stuff. Songs are written. Shakespeare wrote of this. Beethoven crafted masterpieces with this. Michelangelo painted with this passion. Buildings were erected and wars won with the love and passion my soul carries for this man. So see, this experience shapes my reality. It shapes how I see others around me as it helps me see them  for who they are while giving me insight to the limits of human understanding. We all have our own cross to bear; some crosses may seem more familiar or we can nod in appreciation for what another has to endure, but make no mistake about it, a cross is a cross is a cross.

In closing, one of my favorites idioms:

“Those who live in glass houses ought not throw stones.”

Be mindful of the judgment you cast on others as you endure your own battles in life. We are all just trying to make every day count and no matter how hard we try, we aren’t gonna get out of it alive. It makes little sense to cause others too much trouble along the way as you just might trip on your own robes in the process.

Thoughtfully,

The Repressed Peach