I M Perfect lady

Tag: love

  • And Me

    Today my husband and I leave for a few days, just him and I and the 1983 Chevy truck. 

     

    While it may not seem like a big thing, what kind of car you drive, we do however have a few vehicles that bring out the date in you, and the Big Blue Truck is one.

     

    It doesn’t see the open road much, it rarely has plates on it and surely not insurance.  It is used mainly for plowing snow and is kept in the barn on hay…well actually beach sand, but I kid him.

     

    He bought it brand new in 1982, the fall he and I began dating.  He has had it painted, a new engine, running boards and running lights, chrome wheels, loud mufflers etc.  It is a well-loved truck…a truck of young boys dream.

     

    Before taking it out on the open road, he had a few things to fix, rear breaks, led to new break lines, led to wheel bearings, and to things called spider gears (well we may let that go and pray for the best), but he won’t back out of our driveway until he is assured it is good running shape….  I have no idea what these things look like, but his concern for the truck equals his care for the things he loves.

     

    Overall, it is his care that has kept the truck going, our love going, our family going.  He is a man who pays attention to the details.  He catches things before they are way far-gone, he hears little sounds the truck makes telling him which part needs his attention, just as he notices when any of us are just a hair off. 

     

    If he had his way, we would all be kept on hay in a barn, safe, sound and out of harms way…only to be taken out for joy rides.

     

    I am so thrilled to be going on a joy ride with a man who loves, who cares and who shows it.

     

    He has taught me how to care, how to love…we have traveled far and are very lucky that we can dip back into our earlier years and enjoy dating. 

     

    Today is his birthday…and he will be like a young kid again driving along in his big blue truck…28 years since he bought it he still loving it, and me! 

     

    IMG_5344 

    My husband just came back from the parts store, the part we were waiting on did not come in.  He was able to get a part for my Mail Jeep…a wheel bearing that too has been making noises.  So, we will continue on…leaving the Chevy for dates near home. 

    This is our first time taking the Jeep on vacation…it will be a good cool ride. Air.

    IMG_5075 

     

  • Wanting me to disappear.

    I found it interesting that my mother’s voice still echoes in my head, that it rings out loud and clear each and every time I veer off her well-beaten path, my fear of disappointing her screams louder than the thrill of doing what I love to do.

     

    These echoes have traveled with me a long long time, and they are laced with fear that freezes me in my tracks if I even begin to ponder doing things differently.

     

    This underlying system was created when I was very small, and the definition of self was built upon this very odd system, where my ‘goodness’ was mirrored when she was happy and my ‘badness’ when she wasn’t.

     

    It had nothing to do with what I wanted to do, but had everything to do with her.

     

    This track was laid down within me by how my mother reacted to life, and making her happy was my only goal, for her happiness meant her loving me. 

     

    It had nothing to do with the actual things I was doing, but the withdrawing of love dare I venture into a place that made her frown.

     

    I wonder if this is how all children learn about life, that we simply follow the smiles and steer away from all the frowns, that we never learn to steer by our own smiles, we learn to navigate through life by others happiness.

     

    Living in this backward system for 46 years, the last 6 have been spent learning how to live from my inner smiles and standing strong against their frowns.

     

    Learning that I am not responsible for other people’s faces, that it is not my job, has been a full time job, undoing the tracks from childhood, taking them down one piece at a time.

     

    I can see how people lose themselves while living with themselves, how they get pulled into the lives of others simply for happiness and love.

     

    What is so debilitating is that your life disappears while theirs seems to thrive.  And how is that love if you disappear?

     

    In order to be loved by my parents, I had to disappear.

     

    My needs had to disappear, my wants, my desires, my happiness, my joy, my love and my life.  I learned to disappear for love.

     

    As I walk forward learning how to love myself, her echoes come back to remind me of where else I let my self go, where I lost a part of me, where I buried myself and now where I can reclaim that piece.

     

    I didn’t know I buried her in so much responsibility. 

     

    I find now, when I feel so stuck, so angry without a choice, I am tugging on a piece of the old track, and it has nothing to do with what is going on today, but instead what I have learned a long time ago. 

     

    A voice from the past wanting me to disappear.

    1Shared Wisdom closeup 
    This quilt represents my inner wisdom and the young artist…. I am so happy that this one didn't sell!

     

  • Grace and Courage

    As Alice Miller’s book comes to a close, she encapsulates her thoughts.

    “In this book (The Body Never Lies) I express hope that , as psychological knowledge grows, the power of the Fourth Commandment will wane in favor of the appropriate respect for the vital biological needs of the body, including truth, loyalty to oneself and to one’s perceptions, feelings and insights. If I seek genuine expressions of my feelings in a genuine form of communication, everything that was built on lies and insincerity will fall away from me. Then I will no longer strive for a relationship in which I pretend to have feelings that I do not have, or suppress others that I do have. Love that excludes honesty does not deserve the name of love.

    The following points may serve to sum up these ideas.

    1. The “love” of formerly abused children for their parents is not love. It is an attachment fraught with expectations, illusions, and denials, and it exacts a high price from all those involved in it.

    2. The price of this attachment is paid primarily by the next generation of children, who grow up in a spirit of mendacity because their parents automatically inflict on them the thins they believe “did them good.” Young parents themselves also frequently pay for their denial with serious damage to their health because their “gratitude” stands in contradiction to the knowledge stored in their bodies.

    3. The frequent failure of therapy can be explained by the fact that most therapists are themselves caught up in the snare of traditional morality and attempt to drag their clients into the same kind of captivity because it is all they know. As soon as clients start to feel and become capable of roundly condemning the deeds, say, of an incestuous father, therapists will probably be assailed by fear of punishment at the hands of their own parents if they should dare to look their own truth in the face and express it for what it is. How else can we explain the fact that forgiveness is declared to be an instrument of healing? Therapists frequently propose this to reassure themselves, just as the parents did. But because it sounds very familiar to the messages communicated to them in childhood by their parents, albeit expressed in a more friendly way, some patients may need some time to see through the pedagogic angle of it. And even once they finally have recognized it, they can hardly leave their therapist, especially if a new toxic attachment has already formed, if for them, the therapist has become like a mother who has helped them to a new birth (because in this new relationship they have started to feel). So they may continue to expect salvation from the therapist instead of listening to their body and accepting the aid it signals represent.

    4. Once clients, accompanied by an enlightened witness, have lived through and understood their fear of their parents (or parental figures), they can gradually start to break off destructive attachments. The positive reaction of the body will not be long in coming: its communications will become more and more and more comprehensible; it will cease to express itself in mysterious symptoms. Then clients will realize that their therapists have deceived them (frequently involuntarily) because forgiveness actually prevents the formation of scar tissue over the old wound, not to speak of complete recovery. And it can never dispel the compulsion to repeat the same pattern over and over again. This is something we can all find out from our own experience.

    “In The Body Never Lies, I have tried to show that some widely held views have long since exploded by scientific research. Among them are the convictions that forgiveness has a salutary effect, that a commandment can produce genuine love, and that feigning feelings that we do not have is compatible with the demand for honesty. But my criticism of such misleading ideas is by not means to be equated with a refusal to recognize any moral standards or with a wholesale rejection of morality.”

    “On the contrary, Precisely because I staunchly uphold certain values – such as integrity, awareness, responsibility, or loyalty to oneself – I have difficulty with the denial of truths that I consider self-evident and have in fact been empirically substantiated.”

    “Inability to face up to the sufferings undergone in childhood can be observed both in the form of religious obedience and in cynicism, irony, and other forms of self-alienation frequently masquerading as philosophy or literature. But ultimately the body will rebel. Even if it can be temporarily pacified with the help of drugs, nicotine, or medicine, it usually has the last word, because it is quicker to see through self-deception than the mind, particularly if the mind has been trained to function as an alienated self. We may ignore or deride the messages of the body, but its rebellion demands to be heeded because its language is the authentic expression of our true selves and of the strength of our vitality.” Alice Miller

    What I find so affirming is are the major factors that Alice believes will help a person heal from abuse is what I discovered as well…

    Honoring thy Mother and thy Father…is no longer valid when they don’t honor you. This is a two way road and that love without honesty isn’t love.

    Secondly, the forgiveness to keep them ‘sin’ free…will not put scar tissue on our wound; it will not help heal us at all. In fact, we eventually will hurt our children, for we are still unhealed and hurt.

    From what I am hearing in my old church based upon the premise of forgiveness, this is self evident. If forgiveness worked, it would have stopped a long time ago. But when you hear that the grandparent was a perpetrator, the parent was perpetrator and now a child is, Forgiveness doesn’t stop abuse!

    And I love how she uses the body as a gauge for our barometer to our honesty. Your body simply does not know how to lie, it just responds in kind to the climate in which it is forced to live.

    How easily our world troubles could be solved if we all were brave enough to speak our truth and walk behind it with grace and courage…

    IMG_6085

  • A New Legacy to Begin.

    “There are two ways to be fooled. One is to believe what isn’t true; the other is to refuse to believe what is true.”
    Soren Kierkegaard

    I did yoga today, only the second time this week, and I felt the stiffening up of my body, the tight joints and the way I seemed to have drifted away from the presence of me.

    I fall quickly into a world that has little of me in it…for without taking the time each day, I slip away unnoticed.

    My body pays the price; my essence gets left in the background and to the forefront arrives all kinds of reasons to leave it there.

    My weakening resolve plays with any lazy excuse and before I know it a week has passed and I have not spent any time with me just for me.

    What came to me in yoga today (which is another reason to do yoga, great insights) is that we are greeted into the world and then ‘told’ or highly suggested how this world operates and are then programmed to fit in. We learn life from the eyes and perceptions and actions of our parents.

    Imagine instead if we were left to explore on our own, to see freely and build ourselves from the inside out?

    Instead our insides desires and passions, questions and interests are put aside due to the ‘knowledge’ our parents have about life.

    Instead of us gulping up and witnessing the fresh look at life when babies arrive, we stifle it and bend it and hurt it so that the child’s view of life matches our own.

    How backwards and how growth stunting this is to take new fresh energy and make it look old and stiff.

    On my mail route I deliver mail to what we would call ultra conservative families, where the woman are dressed as they did on the wagon trails out west, bonnets and long flowing calico dresses.

    As this bonnet-wearing woman answers her door, there are children of each age at her legs, and I am amazed that she has gone along with this dress code and submissively is led to live as they did 100 years ago…yet what I know is that each generation before refused changes, refused to see progress and actually applauds the legacy that has held strong regardless of progress all around them.

    The youngest ones smile freer, the bit older ones look in awe but with a tinge of fear as they hang back, but the littlest ones meet your eyes and smile wildly for they react naturally untaught.

    Along the route are various degrees of ultra conservatives and what I see the most is the absence of children being children, for they are like young adults, doing adult jobs with adult responsibility.

    In Alice Miller’s books, her main trust is the lost child, how adults greet it with all their issues and steal away the innocence, the lack of pure enthusiasm, love, peace and joy, and fill it up with all things opposite.

    As I completed my yoga, I thought what most of us are craving and thirsty for is the freedom and innocence of babies, to be able to be set free from our parents legacy, to give back our ‘inheritance’ and go it alone.

    Imagine a world of grown up newborns…all living life from what they feel and experience instead of what is acceptable by their parents.

    The parents are our biggest detriment to society and yet they can also be the biggest factors in change…for by changing my attitude and by me seeing my children, my children will see theirs.

    The chain has to be broken in order for it to be fixed.

    You can’t fix things at the same level they were created at, says the wise man Einstein, and I agree.

    I told my daughter yesterday, I had to leave my family in order for the abuse to stop; I had to leave my family in order to save my children. I had to do what was best for the child, not the legacy of the family

    That old legacy had to end in order for a new legacy to begin.

  • Self Love

    If you held a woman’s vagina sacred, if you held a woman sacred, you couldn’t murder her or rape her or mutilate her or hurt her. Eve Ensler

    I just listened to the Vagina Monologues.

    What an incredible and insightful look at the one body part that has been used and abused to take our spirits and how sad most often it occurs in young childhood, before we even know it intimately ourselves.

    The heart of a woman, the place where we can experience and express the wild nature of women, is captured and raped before we even connect, stolen before we find our own worth.

    Eve Ensler opens the dialogue in how detached and unowning we are to our own body parts after they are misused.

    We walk away from the wound too.

    We treat ourselves as others treated us, without care or feeling, we turn ourselves off.

    In one part she mentions a group of young girls who just returned from Rape Camp and how they lined up with their mothers to have a picture taken, and not one of the girls looked at the camera, all heads down in shame.

    Looking down in shame for being raped.

    It is how they see themselves now, through the eyes of their abused vagina.

    Their sense of being a woman has completely changed by the treatment their vaginas received.

    The treatment they received is now the ruler of self worth.

    What a journey into regaining your power back, to hold yourself worthy, to find the specialness, to feel again after the most sensitive and sensual part has been brutally treated.

    By looking at abuse from the body part which abuse occurred is to see the difference between a sacred and loved vagina to one who has been ravaged by abuse.

    Again, the saddest part to me is that very young girls are being abused before they even know what it is, how it works, that it is sacred, that it is an expression of love, a tool for pleasure not pain, and they are driven away from the most intimate part of themselves.

    This disconnect creates frozen or careless owners, where they are ‘ice maidens’ or floozies. The swing from one pole to the next shows how out of control of their bodies they are.

    Learning to love and hold sacred our own bodies is a huge part of the healing process, to reclaim them from the abusers, redefining them once again, returning them back to their innocence.

    Because it is such an intimate part of ourselves, when abused, we lose our sense of intimacy, a personal loving relationship with self.

    This loss of self intimacy is our greatest loss…we lose reverence and sacredness of self, we lose our own self love.

  • The Mastery of Love, by Don Miguel Ruiz

    “Truth”

    When we look at our wounds with the eyes of truth, we can finally heal these wounds. YOu begin by practicing the truth with your self. When you are truthful with yourself, you start to see everything as it is, not the way you want to see it.

    Don’t believe all the lies you tell yourself – all those lies that you never chose to believe, but have been programmed to believe.

    Don’t believe yourself when you say you are not good enough, you are not strong enough, you are not intelligent enough. Don’t believe you are not beautiful. Don’t believe whatever makes you suffer.

    You can chose how you want to live your life. And if you are honest with yourself, you will know you are always free to make new choices.

    “Forgiveness”

    There is no other way but forgiveness to clean emotional wounds. Forgive those who hurt you, even if whatever they did was unforgivable in your mind. You will forgive them not because they deserve to be forgiven, but because you don’t want to suffer every time you remember what they did to you. When you can touch a wound and it doesn’t hurt, then you know you have truly forgiven. Forgive others, and you will see miracles start to happen in your life.

    Forgive yourself also – for everything you have done in your whole life. When you forgive yourself, self-acceptance begins and self-love grows. That is the supreme forgiveness – when you can finally forgive yourself.

    “Self-Love”

    Love is the medicine that accelerates the process of healing. There is no other medicine but unconditional love. There are millions of ways to express your happiness, but there is only one way to really be happy, and that is to love.

  • Who you are.

    ‎“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” Maya Angelou

    What are the untold stories, what is it that we are too afraid to speak of, which part of our lives begs to be hidden, and who is asking this of us?

    Where did the term, “airing your dirty laundry” come from and who finds comfort when we tuck away our imperfections, our unsightly wounds, the places where we lost ourselves… the roads that led to nowhere?

    To whose benefit is it that Reality’s clothesline be free of the so-called dirty stuff?

    What do they consider dirty and what is so unsightly for the line?

    Again I can see the two sides of airing, who is letting it out and who is seeing it.

    Which person is the one stopping this and who decides clean from dirty?

    What is dirty laundry, period?

    Is dirty laundry only the things that go against a previous image? Are they things that will not make you ‘look’ better, but rather be cracks and crevices, lumps and bumps?

    Do people actually make it off the planet without a crack?

    Are there perfectly whole and unbroken people out there?

    I would like to see us celebrate the imperfects in the world, where we are applauded for showing our cracks, and for the greatest person to be the one who has the most.

    To be busted a million times and still want to live and reach for another tomorrow, another hope, another breath, to have the faith to go on…shattered.

    Shattered and soiled were the untold stories of me, their truths lay hidden in the basket of dirty laundry, and it was I who had to rescue them and air them out.

    Unfurling their truths and hang them up for the entire world to see… crumpled unsightly and smeared with my bloody childhood wounds, all unraveled and exposed… my history, my storyline.

    Perhaps I would like to challenge Ms. Maya Angelou and say, there is a greater agony, it is having people turn away from you as you tell your untold story.

    To have it fall on deaf ears, to have it challenged, to stand with all your dirty laundry and have them no longer interested in being with you, to be rejected for who you are, to feel their indifference again, hurt much more than the original wound.

    To me the greater agony was not being believed of them not seeing me in all my broken spots…in being rejected for my truth.

    I can understand why people don’t speak of the untold story and bear the agony of its silence, for it is worse to speak of it and hear only silence and feel the wrath of defense against you.

    As I stood defending my clothesline and all my dirty underwear, I found it wasn’t shameful or something to hide, it didn’t weaken me or break me further, in did the opposite.

    It made me stronger and deeper, more complex and introspective, my views broadened and my heart expanded with awareness and my indifferences melted. I learned how to become caring and loving towards myself.

    I had to love and defend the darkest parts of me in order to know what love was.

    I recall reading that the opposite of love isn’t hate, but indifference and I now believe that you become indifferent when you hide parts of you away.

    You become careless with parts of yourself, and slowly you lose who you are.

  • Stop the Pain

    Tolerance – ability to endure hardship: the ability to put up with harsh or difficult conditions.

    The cycle of abuse spins due to this abnormal tolerance, it allows children to become so desensitized to pain and harsh conditions, that soon they can’t even feel it.

    Their tolerance allows them to overlook a difficult condition and the more they overlook, the more tolerable they become and the more abnormal.

    Painlessly tolerant to harsh conditions, you can literally call it home, family, and love.

    I know it has been hard to explain, how I could not have known, how can you live in dysfunction and not know it, but having a high tolerance you have a distorted view.

    In fact the more you suffer the higher the tolerance and the more pain you can suffer and the more you can suffer the less harsh it seems.

    Your tolerance level allows lots in before your pain meter beeps.

    I often wondered myself how a child can continue to endure or how I was able to withstand the conditions being so young and unskilled, but I wasn’t aware we grow our tolerance muscles when we are asked to continually and repeatedly put up with harsh conditions.

    You become accustomed to the behavior…

    I had felt that I was out of touch or numb or my feelings seemed to be out of reach, but in fact it just took lots to get my pain meter from registering.

    As I lost my tolerance for pain I have been able to open the valve on the love meter.

    I am not certain, but it seems probable, that you can’t have both the love meter and the pain meter running together.

    Who knew that by shutting off the tolerance for pain, love would appear?

    What I had to do was love myself enough to stop the pain.

  • Meet your Truth.

    Remember playing with magnets as a child, and how they would either click together or be repelled apart?

    I was reminded of magnets as my friend talked about situations we get into in relationships, where we are going along with mutual attraction and then somehow we get flipped around and now are being repelled apart.

    I recalled the magnet’s inner wisdom was much smarter than our strength, no matter what we did; they knew when they matched or when one of them was turned the wrong way, in order to click together they had to be facing the right way.

    And it was fun to feel the push away from these seemingly innate objects, like they had a mind of their own.

    The image of my friend’s hands and how they moved to resemble magnets stayed with me as I looked at my husband and myself and how we seemed at odds, and how we trying to realign ourselves.

    It seemed his truth and my truth didn’t match, and our bodies knew, repelling replaced our old attraction.

    My body has a magnet of its own and the flesh is just a covering on top and beneath my skin is this energy field that knows things my wandering mind misses.

    And my mind has learned that by faking it or pretending to be okay when the body is not, is fruitless for what I seek most is for the body to teach my mind.

    I listen and receive signals of distress or of peace.

    In the past I was the opposite; I turned away from the signals and bull headedly marched on, heedless to the discomfort my body screamed.

    My mind that had been taught what to believe, what was right and what was wrong and it neglected to seek counsel of my body. In fact the body, I was taught, was full of sin and it had the devils magnetic field that would pull us asunder.

    You would go to Hell if you followed your body; Heaven was to be gained by following your mind.

    Your body was your greatest enemy.

    As I write this, I know that my childhood religion was threatened by the wise wisdom of this knowing body.

    Imagine the wonderful creation of God, this highly functioning self-healing living breathing body being the devils property?

    What the religion was teaching was to go against the magnetic pull of my own body.

    With this being my background I as accustomed of turning away from my body, of shunning its desires and passions and neglecting the wise inner gut feelings and focusing instead of following the masses, the church leader and listening to what he and they felt was best for me.

    Stepping away from my body I lived disconnected and out of touch…I worked religiously against my own magnetic pull.

    Imaging going against your own truth!

    It is incredible to me that we all have these wonderful magnets that are infused into all our cells, and they know what is true.

    If you use your body like this big lie detector or treat it like a magnet for truth that it is, your life will be less complicated.

    I watched my daughter and how she appeared physically in our world while she lived a lie. Like a diseased plant she began to fail.

    What I notice about my body is it likes it when I speak the truth, even if the truth sounds bad, it cheers.

    When I was on our local school board and the president of the board lived in another city, but was on our board, it made sense to my body to say, “You have a pretend house in Chassell, so you can be legitimately on our board.” I told him, a man who pretended to live here and who had a fake home in our town were directing me on the board.

    My body felt better being there with the truth hanging out. And I knew better than putting trust or faith in a pretending man.

    So, even if you can’t make moves to get out from beneath the lies don’t lie about your situation; give your body the full report.

    It is not the actual reality that distresses the body, but us telling the body it isn’t really there. It likes to have a well-balanced reality accounting sheet.

    I love that I am aware of my body’s magnet and how its preset to the truth, how I can rely on it subtle and not so subtle readings, how it vibrates at a certain note to gain my attention, letting me know when I am not seeing or being in truth.

    My Universe and this magnet are connected and both dance perfectly in harmony with reality.

    My body thrives best in the reality of truth and I speak reality’s harshest truths with great courage for I now what happens when I don’t. I get repelled away from peace, love and joy.

    My magnet is set uniquely for me and I get anxious and scared when lies pile up and truth seems far away…

    Namaste, means the Spirit in me recognizes the Spirit within you…what I believe maybe more beneficial is my truth wants to meet your truth.

  • Love without Hurt.

    What I didn’t know was that my distrust of kindness and love, was actually fear, that love to me was very wobbly and had lots of sharp edges and was ever changing, it was smooth and calm one minute, but filled with rage or hurtful the next, I didn’t know that love didn’t have a hurtful side.

    To me, Love hurts. If not now, it is coming so prepare it room! There was no time in my life that love didn’t eventually turn to hurt, turn to mistrust, turn to betrayal…so, Love Hurts, eventually.

    In fact the people I loved were people with two sides.

    They had the side of trying to be good, be better, be kinder and then the side that failed.

    We were taught to forgive the failing side and to focus on the trying side.

    I was taught that all folks had this Light and Dark side, and that you overlooked (forgave) their darkness and put them back in the Light.

    It wasn’t focusing on the Light that did the damage, but overlooking the dark side.

    This dark side seemed to be forgivable, because it was uncontrollable, its animalistic ways were beyond human control, it rendered many a man helpless.

    It was a sin, that seemed to come in from the outside, but it wasn’t really them. A happenstance, but not of them, so do not throw a person away due to bad behavior. Forgive and forget, until the next time…

    These sins were just clouds that happened by and you got caught in them, it wasn’t something you had control over and within each human was a weak spot.

    A spot colored in by whatever ‘bad’ behavior they didn’t have control over.

    It is this spot that I have spent 6 years investigating within me, and it isn’t a spot, but my whole pathology of becoming me, a monster whose love was nothing but fear.

    I began to dissect all my relationships and all my actions to see what was what, only to discover, unbeknownst to me, I never met love, not the real love, the love that doesn’t change love, the real genuine thing.

    I was a stranger to real love. I had never felt real love, for within me lay fear. If you are full of fear you can’t feel love, all you feel is fearful.

    Fearful it won’t last, fearful it will betray you, unease and afraid, you sit with fear by love.

    My journey has been to climb out of the hole of fearful love, as a monster of fearful love and then in the Light of day, learn what love is.

    It was scary to show the world that I am fear, that I do fearful things, that I come from fearful places and have wounds of fear and that for 46 years I had no clue what love was, and was loveless inside.

    I had such empathy and love for my monster of fear while I was so inept at what love does, how love feels, where love goes, how it speaks, how it listens, how it lives.

    How grateful am I that I was able to transition from a fear-based life to one that is embracing love.

    That saddest part of being the monster of fear is that you feel you are handing out love, compassion, caring while you are sowing seeds of fear.

    I had to feel the icy water drip into me after I had transformed myself, to really understand this monsters message.

    When my daughter’s abuse presented itself to me, I had post traumatic like behaviors, I vacillated between fear and love, and I felt the calm peace and acceptance of love and the wild terrorizing bitter cold fear, and watch the affects both had on my daughter.

    My brave little daughter was caught in the maelstrom of this fear filled love monster.

    What an incredible transformation and what a roller coaster ride, for all who live with me, myself include, to get to just one side of love.

    Love without hurt.