Approximate reading time: 11 min

What to say, what to say….

Unfortunately, the creative juices seem to have gone a little AWOL. I am hoping if I stare at my screen long enough I’ll get a supercharged download of wit and humour!!

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( Nope, I’m fresh out! )

My week was ok.

I have taken a break from dating for bit.

After doing a little online research I discovered the reason I don’t seem to be getting any matches any more…..

apparently, that is how a lot of the apps work.

You sign up, you get an influx of matches that fills you with a flurry of hope and excitement and by the time you get to the 3rd week,

you are lucky if you match with even 2 people.

That then ‘encourages’ people to sign up for the monthly payment option of the app.

I personally, can’t see the logic in anyone wanting to pay for something that clearly isn’t working properly in the first place – in the hopes that it might start working properly.

It all seems a little ludicrous to me.

But there you have it.

Thanks to many other frustrated daters out there, I have discovered if you delete the app for a week then it forgets that you have used it and hits you with a surge of matches.

We live in hope.

We live in hope.

I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with me.

Sometimes I HATE putting my poems up here.

(Especially when I feel like I do today.)

It feels like every criticism, every hurtful comment I have had about my writing (or me) plays over and over and over again in my mind, reminding me that I am just opening myself up for more criticism.

And then I go and post it anyway.

Because I don’t want to live my life afraid.

(Even though for a large proportion of it…

I am petrified)

The only thing that keeps me going sometimes is reminding myself that this is quite simply

The human condition

I am not alone.

If my writing helps even one person to have a little more compassion for themselves,

then I think it’s worth the risk.

3rd October 2021

This week I was sick

For my therapy session

I probably should have cancelled

(But then I would’ve missed ‘my’ lesson)

I honestly, wasn’t in

A healthy headspace

Why does being ill make me miss

My mum’s warm embrace?

Triggering sadness

A random memory from the past

When I was sick and feeling

Emotionally downcast

My mum offered so kindly

To bring me some food

Her way of showing her love

(It was what she could do)

How it must have hurt when

I coldly rejected her help

“No thank you mum

 I can look after myself”

So, I kept my appointment

(Lyla was an emotional mess)

Plus I had an issue at work

That I needed to process

I recently started working

With the absolute sweetest child

It’s only been a month but

He fits the dyslexic profile

After speaking to both his teacher

And his occupational therapist

I attempted to set up a meeting

So mutual concerns could be addressed

So, we could have an honest conversation

With this child’s mum

(Setting up collaborative meetings

Is something I’ve always done)

Because as a learning support teacher

This is part of the role

A united front of support

Is always the main goal

I was flabbergasted when they both

(Eventually)

Responded back

(3 days later)

They’d have NO time for that

That it would  be impossible to organise

A meet time that suits us all

The suggestion that we

 ‘Voice note’

Good God, I was appalled!

So essentially what they were saying

(To this child’s poor mum)

They weren’t prepared to even try

Find 20 minutes for her son?

In my ten years of learning support

I’ve never had that response

I was triggered by their indifference

Their callous nonchalance

I felt angry

I felt hurt

(Yes, I took it personally)

It felt like a clear message

They wanted nothing to do with me

And as I poured out my anger

As I raged my distain

All the emotions that so beautifully

Disguise my core shame

A comment was then made

(By my therapist)

While he was trying to unravel

This emotional hot mess

A statement that took me

Completely off guard

“You make demands of others

And then take it really hard…

When they don’t comply with your wishes

You always get hurt!”

I went absolutely cold

My inner children went berserk

As more rage rose up

I  DESPERATELY wanted to disagree

“I can’t believe you would even

Say that about me!”

But nothing was said…

No words came out

I completely shut down

I completely zoned out

For the rest of the session

 I could barely look at him

I felt shamed

I felt judged

So uncomfortable in my skin

Are parts of me demanding?

 Oh bloody hell, YES!

I’ve brought that to therapy

Many times to be addressed

But in this situation

At this point right now

That simply wasn’t what

Was going down

I honestly felt nothing

But deep-core shame

He was supposed to have my back

Why did I feel like I was being blamed?

It was the worst therapy session

 I had ever, ever had

I left feeling broken

Criticized and sad

I then had to do a CI session

To untangle the shame

To try figure out what happened

Why I’d felt so emotional and blamed

What came up for me were

Those words ‘making demands’

Why were they such a trigger?

 I needed to understand

That feeling as a child

I was always too much

I was demanding

Self-centered

I was so out of touch

My mums go to label

 “I was selfish to the core”

Words like that are so very

Hard to ignore

or

“Look, Lady Godiva

Is on her horse again”

I had no idea what she meant

 I  asked my brother to explain

An Anglo-Saxon noblewoman

Famous for her legendary horse ride

Through Coventry, buck naked

She demanded that everyone else hide

Away in their houses

So that NO one would see

This slightly insane bourgeoisie

(My mum’s message was received)

I was an attention-seeking diva

So, it would appear

Constantly making demands on others

Her message was clear

I always felt so invalidated

I carried this belief my whole life

“Don’t make demands on others

Don’t cause too much strife”

I mean I dated a guy

(For 2 whole years)

 Who never took me out to socialise

With any of his peers

He’d be out every weekend

(I’d always do my own thing)

Because I didn’t want to be seen

As needy or demanding

 Of course,  I knew the reason

His ex-girlfriend was often there

 His obvious crush on her

Filled me with despair

He’d come home drunk

So often singing her praise

Telling me how wonderful

She’d looked that day

Looking back at it now

l almost want to laugh

 It’s as if I wanted my tombstone

To have the epigraph

But I didn’t understand

It hurt like fucking hell

I wish I had the self-love

To honestly compel…

 Him to decide if he genuinely

Wanted to be with me

Instead of warming his bed

Like some lovesick devotee

So, yes this belief

Has been so hard to shift

And my therapist’s comment

Left me considerably miffed

But as I take the time now

To think rationally

As the adult I am

(Not the child stuck in me)

It got me thinking about ‘context’

I thought of a friend of mine

Who has the most beautiful toddler

An adorable ray of sunshine

And how she, like any child

 Who is of toddler age

Has her oh-so -good moments

and not-so-good days

Her tantrums can be ferocious

She can rant, rage and scream

Because she’s hit that age

Where it’s

“All about me”

My friend and her husband

Handle her with grace

They don’t belittle her or throw

Angry judgment in her face

They are firm and loving

(They don’t call her names)

They recognise she is simply

 Going through ‘that’ stage

But for a narcissistic parent

‘This age’ is so hard

The child’s desire to separate

Is not held in high regard

They’re unable to see their child

As an individual entity

With their own thoughts and feelings

With the right to disagree

 So, a child who is going through

A normal developmental phase

 Might reflect badly on them

Put them visibly on display

Which only feeds their terrible

Low self-esteem

Often causing rage and anger

To burst from the seams

And of course, why not

Why wouldn’t this occur

Because these narcissistic parents

Also never felt seen or heard

Their inner child wounds

Are so incredibly deep

When they were young children

No one ever heard them weep

How could they possibly have compassion

Or patience for a small child

When there was never any healing  

For their own inner exiles

So, it’s interesting this has happened

I am grateful I have the tools

 To pick apart my triggers

To take a look at old ghouls

Perhaps a judgment from my therapist

Or the perfect choice of words….

 That awakened old uncertainties

About what I truly deserved

Perhaps the time has come

For me to hold my own compassion

Embrace my old beliefs

And then begin to refashion

What MY truth is

What goes on in MY mind

What words do I accept

What words do I leave behind

Now to end off

I just have

One more thing to say

And then I absolutely promise I’m

Done for the day

I learnt something fascinating

About Lady Godiva

That somehow more compassionately

Seems to illuminate her

As Medi-evil legend has it

This gentlewoman became aware

That the people in Coventry were suffering

Under her husband’s care

His heavy taxation

Left people feeling oppressed

She ceaselessly begged him

To please reassess

But he stubbornly refused

(“Good Lord she’s a pain!”)

Then finally, in frustration

He said to her in vain…

“When you ride through Coventry naked

Is when I’ll change my ways”

(The man CLEARLY underestimated

His wife’s determination that day)

She took him at his word

Lady Godiva rode through the town

Completely buck naked

With her long hair hanging down

She asked all the Townspeople

To stay Indoors, hidden inside

To preserve her modesty

Only one man defied….

Her order that day

His name was Tom

And that’s where the term

“Peeping Tom” comes from

And this is how Lady Godiva

Helped the people of Coventry

Her self-sacrificing motive

Justified the utter scandal of her deed

I love this story

Wasn’t Lady Godiva so cool!

She had the strength to bear her shame

So, she could help other people

She courageously put herself out there

In the potential line of fire

I couldn’t think of a better role model

To which I could aspire