I M Perfect lady

Tag: lies

  • I answer…

    The faint lines between your business and mine oftentimes blur when it contains the life of you my child, when you bring into my life energies that affect me.

    It is crucial to separate and to focus on what is my business and at the same time hand back to you yours.

    While I can’t change your behaviors and don’t want them to change for me, I do want to maintain the integrity of our relationship.

    There has been a breach and I feel it is only right for me to state how it makes me feel.

    It isn’t up to me to change you, but I feel it is only right to state how it will affect the you and me.

    The relationship we had previous didn’t have lies, it didn’t have secrets, it had integrity and character, and I am unsure what this will mean to us in the long run to have this vein running through us, it seems to weaken the us.

    Inside of our relationship you have brought changes that will define our future, changes that I accept or decline.

    What happens if I accept that lying is an okay part of our relationship?

    What happens if secrets are okay?

    Who then do we become?

    Are we not just playacting a good relationship?
    Not only is the relationship with self in jeopardy but each relationship you have, for in every relationship you bring you.

    If you treat your self less, we all feel the less of who you are in our relationship.

    The light goes out, the feelings are dim, and we feel that.

    To me the second part of any relationship is to say what you need to say, to speak how the actions are affecting you, letting the other know how you feel.

    The relationship dance is twofold; no one gets to have more power.

    Each of us owns a set of feelings and a voice, it is up to us to express and share.

    My business is to share my feelings or hide them, to speak up or sit silently, to show her how my feelings are changing.

    She changes and I change.

    We are separated but move in the dance of life together as long as we have a relationship.

    We relate to each other.

    When you do lie I feel lied to.
    When you do something loving, I feel love.

    We are readers of each other, what you give to me I take in its full integrity, I no longer change it, but accept it as it is given.

    Your actions come across to me clearly, I read you like a book, there is no mistaking their meanings, what you are doing is speaking to me loud and clear, I am just echoing back how it feels to be on the receiving end.

    That is my business.

    I tell you how I feel.

    Your lies to me are lies about your self.
    You are trying not to show me who you are.
    I see behind the lies, I watch the actions; the wordy lies fall empty at my feet.

    Our relationship is only as good as the two people in it.

    You bring you and I bring me.

    We dance as one from there.
    You step and I counter step, you speak and I answer…

  • My next move.

    As I walked along these past six years, I only ever had two choices, not three, not four but two, and I could only carry forward one.

    Just one, not two, only one!

    Two would have grown me into a multi personality.

    There would have been two aspects of me, two types of me, two sides of me, a multiple me.

    Each side leading totally different lives sailing between and over boundaries like mixing colored water from glass to glass, until I would have been colored murky, muddy undetectable, where you would not know who is the real me.

    This murky colored water is where I believe I sorted myself out from, I had to re-visit each relationship and see who the real me was.

    To see where I moved from glass to glass not paying attention to how it colored me.

    In each glass I had to see what it required of me to swim there, what side of me shone in that space and what side of me lay in the dark?

    It was literally like running around holding up the old side and the reality side looking for a match, seeing what had integrity that could stand test of truth.

    Time and time again, I was surprised and horrified that most of my life was for the darker side, the side of me that came forth from abuse.

    There was very little in my world that was the real deal.

    Those things left standing are few but precious.

    And it is my belief I will grow from here, gain from here, thrive from here, for I was dying in the murky darkness, unable to know me, find me, see me, be me.

    This personal that lived in the murkiness shone in other’s lives and dimmed in my own.

    Now I am a like a dim light bulb, a faint teeny glow to them, but very colorful and bright inside.

    I see my daughter heading into the murky waters, trying to blend herself in both glasses, trying to appease the truth and the dark, the love and the fear, I see how I lost myself as I watch her go.

    What do I say? Do I tell her to stay out of our glass so she is not confused, so she is just one way to her self?

    What did I need to hear back then?

    What was the key that would have stopped me from losing myself in both worlds?

    Is there a shorter path than what I took?

    A less painful one?

    As she loses her self in like/love she doesn’t see the murky waters swallowing her like quick sand…

    But I do. I see her going in where I just left.

    What I find deeply disturbing about all of this, is that while my mother didn’t seem me slip into the quick sand I do, I see her going deeper and deeper. It seems unfair for me to watch this play out.

    To see the innocence blend with deceit, lies, until all that is left standing is this murky sense of self, this dim light.

    Why do I need to see this?

    What is my lesson yet again?

    To see the power and the lack of control, the submissiveness, the equal partnership between abuser and abusee?

    Is it more right to see two folks dancing in the quagmire?

    Will they save themselves while tossing more dirt upon each other?

    Who will save them from themselves?

    It seems in my murkiness, one day I saw the whole scene, the whole dreadful scene of filth and dirt, the lies and the deceit, is that what flips you out?

    Do you have to go in and swim, taste and feel the darkness; you can’t know it from the shore?

    It is like just curing yourself from cancer and turning around and seeing all you tossed off has landed on your child.

    I am just not sure what my next move is.

    “When in doubt, don’t.” Don’t move, don’t speak, don’t act. Just don’t.
    Again, great Universe this is up to you…let me know my next move.

  • My grasp on Reality.

    “People Show you who they are, Believe them,” is a quote by Maya Angelou.

    I thought this was what my daughter needed to hear, when in fact I was talking to myself.

    I awoke to an eerie phone glow coming from the top bunk in the early morning hours, a signature sign that she is still engaged in ‘other woman’ activities.

    “They show you…” screamed out loud in my head.

    I have been twisting and turning this around and around like a rubics cube, trying to get her in one color.

    Who is being betrayed, who is cheating, who is getting lied to and who is doing the lying, what is reality and what is not, and why am I even involved again?

    Whose business is this, whose lesson, what is mine to see and be with and what is hers?

    The intricacies of this are not just plain white, there is a path, a beginning a middle and a predicted future (end).

    What am I failing to see?

    There still seems to be a juxtaposition between ‘other woman and girl in top bunk, but I have to go with reality, so other woman she now is.

    Failing to see this is to go against what is.

    No matter how she arrived at this job, she is fully working it.

    My mother’s greatest failings was not seeing my innocence fade, not seeing the changes that took place in my world, not walking with me as I stumbled affected on the other side.

    While my daughter has been pleading for me to see her an equal, I failed.

    I failed to see her dancing step-to-step, cheek-to-cheek and ear-to-ear, she is now his equal.

    My mother didn’t see my innocence in the act of abuse, but she also didn’t see the affects the abuse had on me.

    It is like she missed the whole thing, like it never happened.

    I wondered who my daughter has been truthful to all along, who she did not have to lie to, hide from or sneak out with, and it is him.

    Her and him have always been wide open, with each other, she has only changed in her previous relations.

    They still are together while she lies.

    Lies to me, in a letter that she wants to change. It is a lie.

    Here I somehow had this flipped around that she was lying to her self, making her self lower etc, when in fact what she is really changing is our relationship.

    She brought in lies, she lowered the level between us.

    It is now up to me to believe or not believe, to see or not see, to hear or not hear, to learn who she is.

    I can see now why parents feel betrayed, for the child lies.

    Why do they have to lie?

    Who are they trying to not hurt and why?

    Why does there have to be hurt and lying?

    I get so confused in this.

    When do people lie and why?

    Why can’t we just do what it is we are doing?

    Why must we stoop to keep it a secret?

    What are secrets and what is there purpose?

    Are there good secrets and bad?

    If we have a secret is it a lie about ourselves?

    Are we with holding a part of ourselves?

    And from whom?

    Is it possible that we are many people to many, or are we just one to all?

    My view of my daughter isn’t sitting at peace in reality.

    She lied to me and is now changing within our relationship? We started out as one thing and now it is turning different from the abuse.

    She is no longer the girl she was.

    She is different.

    When she changes do I have to?

    What do I do with her changing within our relationship, with her lies and odd behaviors?

    What is my response to this?

    I am not able to forbid it, but what do I do with it in my hands?

    In my hands is a daughter that lies.

    Yet what is the lie?

    Is she lying or am I?

    Did I lie to myself believing her words?

    Did I lie to myself when I didn’t want to fully embrace her new role with a married man? Did I lie to myself that she was innocent? When did I start lying too?

    It seems like this affair has us all liars.

    He lies to his wife, she lies to us, we lie to ourselves, why?

    To make it seem okay?

    To agree?

    To support?

    I want to know why I am lying?

    Maybe it feels better to lie, I feel in control, I feel less pain; it feels better to lie than it does to feel the relationship being changed.

    Lies are misleading statements.

    Liar is a deceiver.

    I still do not get why our relationship, the one between her and I has to change with this, I don’t get it.

    Why does she lie to me?

    Why does she try hard to act the same while acting different? Isn’t that what I am doing. Acting like nothing changed between us when it did.

    When I was lost before, when I couldn’t seem to find my way, I clung to reality, clung to actions, and they always showed me who they were, where their minds were, what their thoughts were thinking…

    What I can safely say today, is that her mind, thoughts, feelings and actions are with him.

    And the girl I knew is gone, my images, my view, my experience, my feelings of her have all changed.

    She lied…she wasn’t with him, but now she is, so is she still lying or am I?

    Am I lying that she doesn’t want to be there?

    Is lying a deal breaker?

    Is that her only offense?

    If our hearts and home are open, shouldn’t he be allowed in, can’t we get them out of the cell phones and into reality?

    Open house, open mind, open heart, open door; bring him in to the house in the light of day.

    Can I do this? Can he? Can she? Can We?
    Do we slowly pull this into reality, making it okay.

    What isn’t okay?

    Married man and single girl, I just can’t make that okay, it seems there is a law and morals and values in-between, and do I overlook that?

    How does this fit in our lifestyle within our home?

    Can we bring in this in and become accustomed to it?

    Over time does it fade and blend and not stick out so bad?

    Who will have to change to bring this in?

    Her or my husband and I?

    What an interesting social experiment, I just wish it wasn’t my daughter’s life and mine and my husbands.

    I can see the dynamics, the way the rubics cube works, trying to make one color, one family, one value, one moral, one reality and how it is impossible to fit.

    One of us will lose, the one not in reality.

    Reality wins only but 100% of the time.
    In my experience, there is a bunch of folks living in a land one step removed from reality, and it is I, the lover of reality, the seeker of the truth, that gets left off to one side… me and reality.

    I either gain the world or lose my grasp on reality…

  • By each Choice we Make.

    Did you know that brainwashing is when you no longer have the option of choice?

    I witnessed my daughter lose her power of choice.

    She didn’t even know she gave up her choices while she attended only one option.

    The one option became the most important, she was willing to lie to protect that option, she was willing to give up her self for that one option, she lost her self by focusing on one choice.

    It soon had control of her and not her of choice.

    This secret life, the clandestine meetings, the specialness of feeling that only the two of them knew, created the one option.

    This one option wasn’t to be shared.

    It was separated from the world.

    It was ‘special’.

    She lost her other choices for none of them were allowed in the ‘special’ spot.

    The special spot and the man who occupied this site began changing her to fit his spot.

    She had to change to play there.

    She couldn’t bring him into her life; she could only go to his.

    This ‘special man’ didn’t fit into her old life; she had to create a new self to fit in his.

    In doing so, she lost the options.

    She lost the freedom, the flowing back and forth between two lives unchanged.

    She had to become different in both worlds.

    In his world, they had to be quiet, keep it secret, don’t let anyone know what it was they were doing, it was the key that turned the lock.

    This twisted sense of special steals away the person you are and you leave your old life and self behind to fit into this new picture, unknowingly.

    You leave yourself bit by bit by bit, until you are fashioned into this new self and the path back to your old self goes dark.

    What my husband and I had to do was let her make choices, to unlock the frozen part in her brain.

    While his key is secret, our key is freedom.

    He had taken away the choices we gave them all back.

    We had to do the opposite of what had led her down this road.

    She gets to make choices.

    We won’t tell her what to do.

    We open up the space for freedom.

    I share my views.

    I show her how I see things.

    I allow her to see them her way.

    What I love is that we remain our selves and that alone will lead her back to her self.

    She left us to play in a secret land we did not leave her.

    So she gets to decide, does she want to play in the secret land or play in our land.

    Does she want to be the person she needs to be to be ‘special’ with him or does she want to be her old self.

    The freedom we allowed was the key that set her free to begin to once again make choices.

    Choices, they seem so obvious so simple so easy, and yet that is what the perpetrator seizes first.

    You are not given an option to do it any other way.

    Their option is the only one that will keep this relationship going.

    You have no choice but to go along.

    And sadly, usually by this time you have become friends, you have given trusts and faith and love to the individual, and in order to maintain this ‘special’ relationship, IT depends upon your silence.

    Your silence and his creates a cocoon that separates you from your self and the world around you.

    You live in this upside down and backwards ‘other’ land.

    You have to change to fit in there and the changes are so noticeable in your old life.

    You have to lie to leave your old life to go to his.

    You have to lie to your self and overlook how it makes you feel in your old life.

    You come alive in his and die in your own.

    What a tragedy.

    The greatest thing we did was to give her back her choices.
    To allow her to choose what path she wants to strengthen and which one she wants to weaken.

    Her brainwashing was in a very short time and she didn’t play in the secret land too long.

    The longer you are there, the more ingrained the false self gets and the further away the road that leads you back.

    But as far as I can tell, by my experience, is that when I gave myself the option of choice, I was free.

    Free to begin, choice-by-choice, bit-by-bit to recapture life for me.

    The freedom in allowing all in our home to be free is the key that makes this a non-brainwashing home.

    A home of choices, you get to decide which ones you want to make, but make no mistake, each and every choice comes with a consequence, and it is up to you which consequence you choose.

    We create a life and self by each choice we make.

  • Supporting only what exists.

    Yesterday I was left with the line, “believing in something that doesn’t exist,” and it showed me the other person in the lie.

    We tend to blame the liars, but fail to point out the person who is holding it up, who is believing it, and in doing so denying the truth as well.

    I can now see the liar and the lie holder and the lie.

    It takes more than one to lie.

    The lie is a cover-up to a truth that came in that will shatter the relationship.

    Usually the one bringing in the lie is the one that has damaged the relationship.

    The one holding up the lie wants the relationship more than the truth so she will willingly carry what ever needs to be carried in order to save a relationship.

    Isn’t it funny how we become lie carriers, how we carry the lie further for the sake of a relationship.

    She is the disaster team coming in and saving the day. Little does she know all she is saving is the lie.

    All her work from that day forward is to maintain the lie.

    Her main focus is to keep the lie alive, hence believing in something that doesn’t exist.

    I can see how my mother began this game and then eventually include us, how we too learned it was more important to have relationships than seeing truth in behaviors.

    We too believed in something that didn’t exist.

    What is so tragic to me is that we can live a lifetime lost in lies.

    That we will deny our feelings, what our bodies are saying, how we are feeling all to keep a lie alive.

    Six years ago I felt that my pretend to pretend button broke, that I lost the ability to go along with the lies, that something changed, I could not knowingly support lies.

    What is so odd is that when you are born into a family of pretenders, pretending is a way of life, we rarely if ever speak our truth or we have to do so on the side and in hiding.

    Speaking about them behind their backs, saying the truths secretly.

    I am not sure where social niceties begin and lying starts, but the lines get kind of fuzzy.

    I heard Oprah speak to a man on stage stating, “go ahead speak your truth it will open the door for others to do the same.”

    Isn’t it odd that we rarely see someone stand exposing their truths, but rather we live outwardly pretending a life based on lies?

    This double life is what screws with people’s heads and the cause of much disease.

    My body feels so at peace now and when it isn’t I look at what I am lying about.

    What am I pretending?

    Where am I outside of reality?

    Am I the liar or am I believing in a lie.

    Getting my life back from the pretend world hasn’t been easy, I lost a lot of pretend relationships that I loved and supported, but in doing so I began a new relationship with myself.

    Supporting only what exists.

  • Celebrate your differences!

    What would be good advice to offer a new couple who just got married, what pitfalls or blind corners do you have to warn them of, when does reality overtake love, and what then is the best thing to do?

    In my experience of 23 years I would have to say, is to be truthful with your self first and then with him/her.

    That if you give away parts of your self in little lies, soon the you they fell in love with will be gone.

    And it is in the most scariest of situations where there is the most at stake, it is then you need to be honestly truthful.

    By honoring your self first, the other person will always be with your most authentic self.

    While it may seem kind to bow down to the comfort or spare a feeling of hurt, what you are really doing is lining your relationship with lies.

    I had heard Dr. Phil say yesterday to different couples who were either too comfortable (no spice) or those in a power struggle of control, etc…that you are either contaminating the relationship or adding to its strength (I forgot what word he used, but meaning adding to its integrity).

    In each situation, all you are responsible is for your self.

    The union of two people will be only as strong as the weakest individual.

    A marriage made in heaven is where one is strong the other is weak and visa versa.

    If we were exactly alike, there would be no need for the other.

    Celebrate your differences!

  • My Mother’s eyes.

    Misperception of our environment is the key that turns your body into dis-ease. 

     

    A misperception of the world is the cause and the spread dis-ease.

     

    Again going back to the two different perceptions of our world between my mother and I, between my family members and I, shows how the disease of my father continues to contaminate generation upon generation.

     

    The dance of misperception blows my mind.

     

    He is able to continue spreading his disease because of her misperception of him and his children’s misperception of him. 

     

    Misperceptions lead to wrong action and as Byron Katie says, “confused minds do confusing things”, and Jesus says, ‘forgive them they know not what they do’.

     

    I am expecting the confused mind to see clearly, or I am writing and speaking to confusion hoping for clarity, it has occurred to me lately I am speaking to the wrong crowd.

     

    My intentions and deepest desire is to make them see, and to wake them up.

     

    And what seems to be happening more and more is I am working on me. 

     

    I am learning more and more and seeing more and more and becoming more aware of how this all works.

     

    My long held misperceptions are unraveling bit by bit.

     

    I am the one who has benefited the most by writing, by taking my thoughts and bringing them to paper I get to see what I didn’t see before.

     

    What an incredible journey out of the misperceptions I lived behind.

     

    I had wrote to Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor, author of the book, “My Stroke Of Insight” and told her that I had a stroke in my reality, a stroke of truth. 

     

    Truth flooded my brain, bursting apart my misperceptions.

     

    The journey in the past five years is the re-wiring, re-labeling, and learning to see reality as it is and living without the lens of my mother’s eyes.

     

     

     

     

  • Upon His Knee.

    It would be nice if it were all lies, just a made up story, a figment of my imagination, as an email suggests.

     

    ‘you are FEEDING your anger with LIES. Just to carry on the hated/evil.’

     

    The lie I told was that my mother stayed in the same house as my father while in Texas, I guess I was wrong.  She was in the same neighborhood, just not the same house.

     

    I don’t know if she spent time with him or seen him or anything, all I knew is her destination was the same as his.  Okay, I get it ….  I was wrong.

     

    I was wrong about that.

     

    Yet what they fail to realize is that I am not looking to be fed, nor am I creating lies to fuel an evil to carry it on, the evil is being carried along by them, not me.

     

    The wonderful technology of Facebook reveals to me in pictures that don’t lie.

     

    My father is posing with his granddaughter, grandson and newest little great granddaughter, with captions of ‘grandpa’.

     

    The sender of the email is standing at his side.

     

    What they fail to notice is that THEY are the ones who allow another little girl in his presence.

     

    I am not the one who is allowing this, but the one who is trying to tell them not to trust this old grandpa man.

     

    I sent an email to the lady of the house where my father lives, informing her that I will be contacting the Family Independence Agency in their town letting them know, a child is in danger.

     

    The family can’t see the danger and while they are blind to it, the danger continues on to another generation, the third. 

     

    I thought they knew who they had in their homes, the picture tells me they have no idea.

     

    They think I am the one, who keeps this sordid tale alive, that I am the creator of this sad little tune, but little do they know; they are the ones who sing the chorus line.

     

    They think I drum up new little lies to keep their world a mess, while they are looking at me, HE is looking at his newest littlest victim, waiting for her to ripen to the perfect little age.

     

    My anger, my hate, my evil they believe I carry is the opposite.  I care enough to try and wake them up.

     

    Hate me, be angry with me, and lose your respect for me that is fine, I will do my best to keep his hands off another little girl.

     

    The picture is the picture of denial.

    Denial is seeing a grandpa where a pedophile stands.

     

    He looks the same.

    Harmless.

    Old.

    Familiar.

    Himself.

     

    What I needed the most way back when, was someone to alert the family, someone to protect me from this man.  I can now be that person to the newest little girl to join our family tree.

     

    I will be the one who tries to stop the spread of his disease from touching her.

     

    Perhaps her grandmother will now take heed, pay attention when it is her first grandchild who sits upon HIS knee.

     

  • That is not buried.

    “If you were to die today, who would be buried? The person you are or the person you are trying to become?”

     

    This question was asked to me by my sister.

     

    My response was, “me”.

     

    When I went back to get it for this blog, I re-read it and it is even more profound.

     

    I am not trying to become someone, but rather I am trying to undo the parts of me that are not true.

     

    I am becoming more and more myself and less and less false.

     

    If I were to die today I would die knowing that I was working like hell up against the fury and discontent of family and friends, to become me.

     

    Just me.  Not trying to be someone else, just me.

     

    I lived for 46 years in lies, both inside and out.

     

    I lied each time I was silent and didn’t stand-up and against ideals and beliefs that I didn’t feel were right.

     

    I lied to others and myself, there was little of the real me in any relationship I had.  I was raised on lies, so I was more lies than reality.  I could only be what was put into me, lies.

     

    If I had died 5 ½ years ago, they would have buried a girl who had no idea of who she was, what brought her joy, what freedom meant, I would have died lost in dysfunction, a girl of lies.

     

    My life would have been all for naught.

     

    Today, if I were to die, I would die knowing who I am, what I stand for, my truths, my errors, my wounds, what heals me, what brings me peace, my passion.  I would die knowing me.

     

    I feel so blessed to know who I am, to know all the dark corners and the bright spaces, to have freedom and joy, peace and love, all within myself.

     

    I will die and they will bury me.  Not someone I am trying to be, for what I am trying to be, is Me.

     

    Yet that Me, is my Soul and Spirit….the only part that is not buried.

     

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  • Real Me.

    “Some people will not tolerate such emotional honesty in communication.  They would rather defend their dishonesty on the grounds that it might hurt others.  Therefore, having rationalized their phoniness into nobility, they settle for superficial relationships.” 

    ~Author Unknown

     

    When I began following my truth and spoke with emotional honesty, it really never occurred to me that I was sealing the deal on having no relationship.

     

    How sad and telling that most of my past relationships were based upon phoniness, either theirs or mine or both.

     

    When I could no longer tolerate the absence of emotional honesty and the other side wasn’t ready for the full exposure to emptiness, our relationship ended.

     

    Our phony relationship lay exposed.

     

    It is funny how you can miss what wasn’t there, how you ache for the closeness you falsely created, incredible to grieve a loss of something you did not have.

    It seems mental to feel separated and alone when a phony relationship dies. 

     

    How can I grieve something phony?

    How can I love something phony?

    How can I have a relationship with phony?

     

    Phony was the only family that I knew, was the only me I knew.

     

    It is funny that you can crave a false thing, something that has no substance, like a drug.

     

    It isn’t the drug itself, but the feeling.

     

    I felt like I belonged.

     

    Now I am standing separated from them.

     

    I am different, perhaps no longer co-dependent.

     

    Feeling strange at being totally alone and separated, yet totally connected to feelings, my emotions and me!

     

    The phony me died, the phony relationships died and they gave birth to a real me.

     

    “It takes two to lie.  One to lie and one to listen.” 

    Homer Simpson