So, I wish I could say it has been an exciting week.
But it has not.
I’ve been in bed with flu for most of it.
Personally, I think my body has had an allergic reaction to dating and is trying to get me to stop.
(I WILL NOT GIVE UP!!!)
I know I said I would give dating a break for a bit….but when you are lying in bed contemplating your death one almost can’t help but start swiping.
(It’s like an addiction I tell you)
Besides what else am I supposed to do while I am suffering through my YouTube ban??
So far I have messaged 28 men.
It seems like I barely get any matches these days…. it’s like I have turned into this zombie chick swiping
left, left, left, left, left, left, left, left, left
with some of the weirdest most freakish profile pics you can ever imagine burning my retina,
FOR HOURS!!
(So many men sticking tongues out at me…so many men with he/she/xe pronouns)
It’s horrifying I tell you!
The eight matches I did get this week included
3 guys who were no-shows
(Ie. Men capable of swiping right and matching with you ……but not quite capable of actually responding to any messages you send them.)
Basically, entry-level ghosters)
2 guys who had no interest in a relationship but were more than willing to have sex with me.
(Um no thank you!)
1 guy who lives in Scotland?
(My radius is set at 15 km from my home…how he slipped through the cracks is beyond me.
Nice guy but we both agreed it was a little pointless.)
1 guy who messaged like a snail
(After two days I fell asleep on the delete button)
And 1 orthopaedic surgeon.
I know, right!
That sounds sooooooo promising!
(Well, I thought so)
Good grief was he weird.
He kept sending me pictures of himself in scrubs…..and saying random cryptic stuff
(With no context)
like
“I like steak, but I prefer sirloin!;-) x”
What does that even mean people?
WHAT DOES IT MEAN??????
I was so confused.
After one day of dribs and drabs messaging where he asked me precisely NOTHING about myself I attempted to ask if we were actually going to go on a real human date at some point.
To which my reply was another picture of him in his scrubs.
(Sigh, I know, I KNOW you are a doctor!
But could you please just be remotely interesting?)
I suggested that perhaps, maybe we weren’t quite looking for the same thing
and I got deleted.
(Thank you, God!)
Of course, my internal mother was on hand to remind me
that I was sick, snotty and coughing up phlegm
so maybe my energy wasn’t quite ‘right’
for this whole dating spiel….and that just maybe I should
But did I listen to her?
Nooooooooooooo
I promptly decided that I needed to go on a bonified PAID app because that would be where the REAL men would be!
REAL MEN!!!!!
I then decided to pay for 3 days of dating on a dating website called mature******.com.
It was only £1.28 per day!!!
Bargain!
Did I do a little reconnaissance research on Trustpilot to see if they were an, even mildly, reputable company?
Hell no.
It was only £3.85.
Well, I currently have 5 extra deductions made from my account to the tune of £31 pounds which I never agreed to.
Ok
Ok
Ok
That’s not completely true….when I signed into the sight after my initial payment there was a bright sparkly button that said.
“YES!!!!!
I want to be A queen!!!!!”
(So I clicked it!)
Then it changed into another sparkly button that said:
OMG YES!!!!!!!
I DESPERATELY NEED A BOOST…..I AM SICK YA’ KNOW!
(So I clicked it again)
Then the button changed into:
But of course…
beam me up Scottie!!!!
(So I clicked it again)
Honestly, it all happened so fast.
Only by the third click did I realise NOTHING was even happening.
(Where was my crown and riches?)
And seriously, I kid you not
I heard this internal VOICE screeching at me
“STOP CLICKING GAYLE!!!!!“
So I came to my senses and stopped clicking the stupid sparkly buttons.
When I checked my account later that day I realised, with horror, that each click had cost me £4.99 to be exact! That plus they had automatically signed me up for another sister dating ‘fraudster’ website
It’s highway robbery I tell you!!!!!
I do realise I played my part
but in my defence,
we all know that being sick makes you STUPID!
My bank has agreed to reimburse me,
I have had to cancel my bank card to stop any more FRAUDULENT payments coming out but still….
I am annoyed as hell.
(Especially since a whole week off work means a whole week of not being paid!)
Forget what I said in my “all enlightened” poem about how I never stress about money any more-
ha.
That was before I morphed into a student again!
I am currently up to my eyeballs in student loans!
What I want to know is:
How do these fraudster people sleep at night?
How do they wake up in the morning, and look in the mirror
knowing that they literally steal money from strangers every single day?
Somebody needs to ARREST them ALL!!!!
Ok, rant over.
Moving on.
(It’s almost all out!)
This week we got another letter from the receivership company.
Except wait for it…..
This is ANOTHER receivership company and ANOTHER bank claiming that we need to stop paying our landlord and start paying them.
It looks like our landlord took out two mortgages on the same flat.
(I didn’t even know that was possible. Don’t banks have checks for that sort of thing?)
So we now have two receivership companies and one estate agent all claiming that they are the legal beneficiaries of our rent money.
Needless to say, I doubt we will be paying ANYONE rent for the next couple of months.
Frankly, I’m done caring.
The three of them can fight it out in court for the next 12 months.
(Please God help me not to go clothes shopping with all this rent money!)
Speaking of God.
Seeing as I have absolutely no bonified news….
I was thinking maybe I should post a poem I conveniently skipped over a couple of weeks ago.
I’m not sure why I didn’t post it really.
Although, I do have a couple of theories.
I was really happy.
I, strangely enough, didn’t feel any need to post it.
It took me almost 2 months to finish writing this poem…..it was very cathartic and very much needed but I kind of thought
…meh…maybe that’s all I needed….
I just needed to get it out.
Another part of me, I now realise in hindsight, was also doing a little bit of caretaking.
The poem is about my experiences of what it was like growing up in a Christian home and having somebody else’s beliefs pushed on you from such a young age.
It’s a horrible feeling.
I was very angry with God and Jesus for many, many years.
I am happy to report I am not angry anymore.
(Well except maybe at the dating scammers, that is;-)
As fate would have it I currently live with two Christian people, one who is actually waiting to be ordained as a vicar. Two people whom I love dearly and who make up 2/3 of my biggest blog supporters.
(That they don’t get tired,
just living with me,
is a miracle in itself!)
Truth be told the thought of posting this poem and hurting them, making them feel judged or like their faith was damaging was not something I wanted to do.
So I let it pass,
quite happily…..
But then a week and a half ago I met a beautiful, 20-year-old girl called Bella. Bella breezed into my life on a cloud of happiness and love. We sat for almost 4 hours talking about life, lessons and heartbreaks. It’s hard to imagine someone so young having been through so much already. She opened up and shared her experiences of how hard it was growing up as an only child with, not one, but two fundamentalist Christian parents. She admitted she had been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder….but she had such a real grasp on how her disorder was linked to her childhood experiences.
That desperate sense of never being seen, loved or accepted just as she was.
Never feeling like there was room for her to breathe and live her own life.
So much of what Bella said mirrored parts of my own experiences.
(What I would have done to have her clarity and understanding at such a young age)
She is currently studying psychology and I truly believe that Bella is going to do wonderful things with her life even if she does not quite realise it just yet;-)
I came away from our conversation feeling happy and inspired and I found myself thinking about this poem.
I couldn’t help but wonder…was I doing it to myself now?
Was I denying myself the right to these thoughts and feelings because I was worried about protecting other people? Was there a part of me that was worried yet again, that If i showed up as me…
100% authentically me
That maybe my friends might reject me?
Maybe they might not love me as much?
I realised of course that this was ridiculous…..and it had nothing to do with my friends and everything to do with my own old fears and beliefs.
Truth be told both my flatmates are, without a doubt, living breathing examples of what I believe Christians should be.
They are loving, accepting and non-judgemental and I sincerely doubt they are praying feverishly for my soul as we speak.
They have never made me feel like I don’t have the right to my own beliefs.
It is somewhat refreshing and I think they might have redeemed a little bit of my faith in the Christian faith.
So I decided to post my poem.
Because it is important to me.
(Ps I have forgiven the dodgy fraudsters!;-)
Written 16th August 2021
Manifesto
Now that I’m being honest
And owning my truth
There’s something else
I need to own up to
Well, I did it in a rage
A little while back
But now that I’m calmer
I can do better than that
My struggles of being brought up
In Christianity
How it’s had such a negative
Hurtful, effect on me
2.5 billion Christians
Living this truth
Many from a place of love
Doing so much good
But when your faith becomes something
That is black and white
When everything comes down to
‘Your’ wrong and right
Then that’s a problem
It causes so much pain…
When you expect everybody else
To just be the same
So please know this is not
Coming from a place of hate
Just a desire to stand up
And finally say
That wasn’t my experience
I’m happy it works for you
But when it comes to Christianity
I have a version too…
That of growing up with a belief
That you are forced to choose
Drains the absolute life out of you
As a child I idolised Jesus
This perfect man
Loving
Forgiving
Always doing the best he can
That saying often heard
“What would Jesus do?”
Can honestly
Seriously
Fuck with you
Your entire life spent
Trying to be ‘virtuous’ and ‘good’
Constantly analysing
figuring out the correct ‘should’
As I got a little older
I just couldn’t believe
So much of what was
Being drummed into me
That 5.4 billion people
In this entire world
Would sadly end up
Burning in hell
I could NEVER believe
In a God so cruel
The same God apparently
That so desperately loves you
That I was sinful, I was wrong
Satan always after me….
As a tiny child, it was a horrible
Thing to believe
But still, I did everything
A good Christian girl would
Even though I never
Truly understood…
I gave my life to Jesus
More times than I could count
I prayed and begged
That I’d be able to surmount
All the pain and utter confusion
That I carried around inside
Watching other people’s testimonies
Made me want to cry
Why did God seem to touch
Other people’s lives so…
But all I ever felt
Was so utterly alone?
And why was mum
So calm and centred at church
But at home only frustration
And anger emerged?
So, I’ve spent these last years
Trying to understand
Trying to piece together a narrative
That enlightens and expands
My compassion
My insight
What was really going on…
To make space for myself…
But also make space for my mum..
My mother’s faith
Was her everything
Her everything and more
She found Jesus Christ
In the year 1974
I know because I found
In her journal after she died
A typed-up copy
Of her life’s timeline
A timeline filled
With key moments from her life….
Her wedding
Birth of my brothers
And other important stuff
But what was significantly absent
In the year 1975
Was the birth of her daughter
When she was almost 35?
I found it interesting that Jesus
Was so clearly emphasized
While I apparently
Was forgotten in her eyes
Now what has to be made
Abundantly clear
My mother adored me
Her love was sincere
I was the daughter she dreamed of
For so very long
Her hope for that connection
That might help her to belong
She always said with such sadness
“My mum was my best friend”
A job to which
I needed to ascend
But the message I always took
Was that I never matched up
She loved me nevertheless
But I’d never be enough…
To fill the hole
The wound that she had
From the pain of her childhood
That was so incredibly bad
So, I get her forgetting me
A mere Freudian slip
Nothing but a harmless
Unintentional blip
Perhaps revealing those subconscious
Feelings that she possessed
For her precious daughter
Who could never help her express
All her own pain
Her feelings of not feeling safe
The anger she felt
For feeling so displaced
But fortunately, for her
There was someone who could fill
The deep hole that had begun
In this tiny little girl
Who only met her dad
At the tender age of 5
(He was away at war
For those first years of her life)
‘Jesus’
She wrote
“Was the father I never had”
Her best friend
Her ally
Her ultimate comrade
The loving acceptance
She so desperately craved
That one person who’d never
Turn her away
He never spoke back
He never argued with her
His love was unconditional
With him, she could confer
He would never be too busy
He would never say
“Not now”
He would forgive her for mistakes
He could teach her how
To live her life with meaning
Follow a divine purpose…
It was easier than facing
All that she missed
“Spiritual bypassing”
A way of hiding behind
Spirituality when we feel
Emotionally blind
Turning to a higher power
To save ourselves from shame
Rather than learning to process
Our own inner pain
Hand it over to a God
Bigger than you
Strong in the faith
He will know what to do
Preventing people from acknowledging
All that they feel inside
Spiritual superiority
Becomes a way to simply hide…
From insecurities
From detachment
From never feeling enough
Growing up wounded
Is so painfully tough
I’m NOT saying ALL Christians
Are simply trying to escape
You can be healthy
Secure
And have your own faith
But once again that wasn’t
How it felt for me
My entire existence cling wrapped
In Christianity
It took ten years of me hanging
On to this belief
One day I’d feel
His abiding presence in me
But if I’m honest what kept me
Tied so long
Was a petrifying feeling
“What if I’m wrong?”
What if I trust what feels good
And right for me
If I accept that I have
My own spiritual beliefs
But then I’d land one day
At those beautiful pearly gates
Jesus saying
“I love you dear
But sorry hell is your fate”
So I clung to the belief
For much longer than I should
As this absolute fear
Wracked my adulthood
As I got into my 30’s
I realise the resentment I had
towards this man called “Jesus”
(Who could do no bad)
It started very slowly
To dawn on me
Jesus was the perfect brother
With whom I could never compete
He got all the praise
(When I did something well)
I had to turn to him with problems
(Instead of trusting myself)
I had to believe I was powerless
Without him on my side
I had to believe that he alone
Had all the answers for my life
In 2010 after my dad passed away
I noticed how this fear
started to slowly dissipate
I had just moved back to South Africa
after 12 years abroad
Ironically my dad died
one day before
I returned home…it was
devastating
Retribution?
For all the anger
I was concealing
My punishment for staying away
Away so long
For all my bitter feelings
For all I had done wrong
I remember getting off that plane
Walking through those doors
My mother and brothers waiting
Feeling shamed to the core
As my mother clung to me
So joyfully
I couldn’t believe she was the one
Who’d been left to me
I’d spent so many years
Not being able to face her
Now I was finally back
And I didn’t have the buffer….
Of my wonderful father
With all his acceptance and love
The one parent with whom
I always felt enough
The next morning
I lay drowning in toxic shame
To feel ‘this loath’ for my mother
Still so stuck in blame
Conscious she was getting older
Lots of parts of her had changed
But I was still trapped
In my own victim game
I felt cold and aloof
I just couldn’t show her my love
I hated myself
Unable to take off the gloves
In that early morning hour
Wrapped in my guilt
A softening, as my inner child
Just wanted to be held
Awash with memories
My loving mother coming to me
In the early hours of the morning
Bringing me cups of tea
So I tip-toed to her room
I climbed into her bed
Like I did when I was little
No words needed to be said
As I hugged her tight
As I now clung for dear life
So desperate for us to just
Put down the knife
My blood ran cold
As I heard a pious cry on repeat
Thank you Jesus!
Thank you JESUS!
I felt nothing but defeat
Why was there NEVER
Any place for just me?
To be the good girl
I so desperately wanted to be
Why was I always
trying so hard
Why did the glory
Always go to her God?
So back to the story
Of how I vowed
To work as hard as I could
To make my dad proud
Even in his absence
I knew he was with me
I felt him in every essence
Of my ENTIRE being
Six months of canvassing schools
Working for free
Hoping that something
Would open up for me
I set myself a goal
That by the end of July
I’d be earning R7000 a month
(What I needed to get by)
On the 30th of June
I got my first home-schooling child
5 days a week
The sweetest little boy called Kyle
And with this job, I was earning
Almost my exact goal
The first time in my life
I realised
I had some control
To set an intention
Do the work required
Have something come to me
That I truly desired
It was the most amazing feeling
I was filled with so much joy
So excited to share the news
“I was finally employed.”
I ran to my mum
Longing to share my happiness
My need for her approval
Always a ravenous abyss
She closed her eyes
Threw her hands up in the air…..
“Thank you, thank you Jesus”
she once more did declare
Anger and irritation
Bubbled to a peak
I opened my mouth
I attempted to speak
“NO thank you Gayle”
I snapped
So fucking annoyed
“I AM the reason
I am FINALLY employed!”
My mum in fairness
Looked so hurt and confused….
As she so meekly said
“But I’ve been praying for you!”
Of course, I was then
Awash with more lovely shame
“Gayle you’re such a bitch!”
I had no words to explain
I wish I had been able
To communicate and express
The feelings of anger
That I so longed to confess
To say mum:
“I have been working
Hard for 6 months
I am worthy of a little praise
For the good job
I have done
This isn’t about
The big man upstairs
You
or frankly any of your prayers
This is simply something
that belongs to me
My hard work and determination
Just needing to be seen.”
So just a few examples
Of how things always played out
My experiences of Christianity
Just left so much doubt..
As to why I wasn’t allowed
To think and believe
Things that simply
Made sense to me
Like what right did we have
To judge gay people as wrong
If God created them
Then surely he would have done
By not giving them these feelings
They couldn’t explain
How was it fair that they are forced
to live with all that shame
I remember as a teenager
attempting to ask my mum
“God loves them”
She said
But being gay is still wrong!”
In endeavouring to continue
To better understand
I explained my viewpoint
As best as I can
My mum was driving the car
And I’ll never forget
As she turned around and yelled
With so much anger and upset
“Because the Bible says Gayle,
So, it is quite simply wrong!”
Message received loud and clear
The conversation was done
But what is now clearer
More understandable I see
Is the real message my mum
Needed to send to me…
“Don’t think differently
You are not allowed your own beliefs
All they do is cause fear
All they do is threaten me
Be a good girl
Stay in the lane
Jesus is my saviour
For you, it’ll be the same.”
But when my dad died
Something shifted in me
For the first time in my life
I started to really see…
That the best we can hope for
in this crazy world
Is to learn to trust our gut
Allow our own beliefs to mature
If something feels good
If it brings you true joy
By all means, follow that path
Join the convoy
If it connects you to this universal
Ever-flowing stream of life
If it helps you find answers
Pulls you out of your dark night
Then embrace it
Love it
With all of your heart
Just don’t expect others
To follow your same path
Because here lies the biggest problem
(As far as I can see)
That affects the whole world
(not just me!)
Our desire to define
This idea of right or wrong
If you aren’t the same as me
Then you do not belong
And I will have to work hard
To change your mind
Bring you safely back
Into my line
Instead of embracing these differences
As beautiful and sincere
Expressions of people’s desires
How they’d like to live here
It always amazes me how
The right books
Always show up
At precisely the correct moment
To quietly interrupt
Our subconscious and shift
Something, we cant
Helping us see things differently
New beliefs to begin plant
Mr God: This is Anna
written by Sydney Hopkins
Written under the pseudonym
Of a young man called “Fynn”
Set in the 1930’s
An autobiographical account
About Fynn’s friendship
With a little
Abandoned girl that he found
An orphan, a runaway
Dirty and bruised
Fynn took Anna home
His mother would know what to do
It’s a book filled with conversation
Anna’s simple take on life
Her deep spiritual understanding
At not quite yet the age of 5
Anna by nature the inquisitor
Who loves to explore
Describes feeling Mr God
In the middle of her core
It’s the beauty of her knowing
What feels right for her
Her struggles at times
To understand the world
It’s about her joyfulness of being able
To be present in the now
A beautiful book that left
Me feeling so empowered
It got me thinking about how
Maybe we’ve got it all wrong …
Perhaps children are the most connected
To God all along?
Through the years I have often
Been moved by kid’s words
Their sometimes-uncanny wisdom
Just so often not heard
And then I had a conversation
With 5-year-old Kyle about God
Trying to answer all his questions
(That for me were still hard…)
How powerful would it have been
Had I simply inquired?
What you think about God
Is all I desire
But I vaguely remember
stumbling through ‘my version of truth’
And ended off with saying
“So God is always with you.”
His answer was heartbreaking
He looked a little done for…
“God was with me when I was little
But he is not any more”.
It was a rather profound thing
For a 5-year-old to say
I couldn’t help but wonder how
That connection went away?
What kept him from knowing
His own power and clarity…
Had other people’s beliefs
Been superimposed
Like they had with me?
How wonderful would it be
If we could allow children to find
Their own inner truth to which
They could naturally align
Rather than attempting to imprint
‘Our version of the truth’
Wouldn’t it be lovely to simply say:
“I see you!”
In your beauty in your wonder
I want you to learn to trust
What feels good in your heart
Listen to your gut”
So now the end of my meandering
Manifesto is nigh
It’s interesting how calm
And peaceful I feel inside
It’s taken 46 years to articulate
All that I truly feel
All I want to say
I am so grateful to finally
Be free from my fears
My panic about hell
Almost magically disappeared
I will acknowledge that Jesus
And I have come a long way
I have learnt to appreciate
The crucial role that he played
In helping my mother
To find her own peace
To feel the love and connection
That she so desperately did need
I realised in those last
Few beautiful months with mum
She relied so much on Jesus
to keep her going, to keep her strong
But I also finally made peace
With my own faith
I no longer felt the desperate need
To talk and debate
Who was right?
Who was wrong…?
Something I had been doing
For way, way too long
Instead, what grew
Was a deeper sense of secure
A rich appreciation of myself
A stronger sense of sure
Gratitude for all the lessons
Jesus came to teach
I have dealt with my anger
I have made my peace
I still strive to live
A Christ-conscious life every day
Secure in the knowledge
That I am ok
I don’t need to be a Christian
To understand
What Jesus wanted us all
To experience first-hand
Because when I feel love
A deep knowing
And bountiful joy
I can’t help but think
That’s what
Jesus came for
To help us know that there is
Another way to live
The power that comes
When WE learn to forgive…
Ourselves first
And then the rest flows
So much power in learning
To simply let go
To know that we are all extensions
Of a magnificent source
There is nothing we need to fix
There is nothing we need to force
Jesus simply knew
We were all deserving of
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