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Blogging, seriously?

Today, I took a leap of faith and began the process of bringing PoM to where I want it to be. I have signed up with a review company and will be (hopefully) starting to do product reviews soon.

I don’t intend to turn my blog into a review machine and not blog like I usually do. Reviews will most likely be one or two out of the week and will be in addition to my regular blogging.

At some point in the near future, I am also supposed to do a give-away for my own business (that Mini-Me and I will be running) at a friend’s blog (we’re still working out the details there) and I will be reopening that business officially on January 1st.

To say that starting 2013 will be different from any so far is an understatement. Mini-Me lives with us, is currently job-hunting and volunteering at the Equine Rescue three days a week, Draco still works (and I’m still the only person in the house that can drive), I’m reopening the business I closed last summer, I still intend to blog and doing reviews means stepping up my social media presence. I will be busy, busy, busy whie I work on balancing all of this and still have time for connecting with my spirituality and my family.

Needless to say, this will be my last round caring for my landlady’s pets while she is away. If I find time to give pets, other than my own, a piece of me, I will go volunteer at the local SPCA where the demand is not all day, every day. I love them all, and I’ve enjoyed it, but I honestly don’t see me having time for much besides what I’m already committed to.

(I see me blogging on my phone in parking lots and carrying a craft-bag on my shoulder everywhere I go to optimize my time usage as it is.)

Needless to say, I’m all kinds of excited, but I know that what I’m undertaking is huge. I’m sick of empty, mindless hours watching TV shows that are surely killing my brain cells faster than any drug ever could.

For years, I avoided having a full life, so afraid that if I attempted anything, it would be another failure. Something else for my mother to shake her head in disdain over. Well, Mom is gone now and I see the damage years of brainwashing has done and I intend to break the cycle. If I don’t succeed immediately, I will keep trying until I do. I’m not giving up this time. Period. I will become the person she, nor I, ever gave me the chance to be.

So, with that said, I say “Come on, 2013! Let’s do this!”, and prepare to step into my future!

Blessings,

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Mirror, Mirror

As I passed a doorway, I glanced inside. I caught a reflection in a mirror framed by the door and saw my mother’s face. I saw her eyes, the arch of her brow, the slope of her nose, the strong and determined chin.

I saw a strength radiating from the reflection that I had never noticed before. A set to the shoulders, a sense of self-pride that comes only from embracing hard truths.

On closer inspection, I realized that the woman staring back from the mirror was me.

The resemblance of the women in my family is striking. I can’t look in the mirror without seeing my mother, my grandmother, my daughter. As I grow older, it seems the comparison is only growing stronger.

Since the death of my mother last summer, I’ve learned, and come to accept some very hard truths, about our relationship, about her as a mother, and her as a person. Seeing her face every time I look in the mirror hasn’t been easy. It’s led to a lot of me trying not to look.

Finding out that someone you loved and respected wasn’t who you tried to believe they were is hard. Finding out after they are gone and unable to explain or defend themselves is even harder.

My relationship with my mother was troubled, but in spite of that, I loved her and craved her approval and love more than my next breath. I believed her to be perfection personified. Not that I believed she’d never made a mistake, but the grace and ease she seemed to move through life with left me in awe and with a desire to be like her.

In truth, my similarities to my mother end with what I see in the mirror. This used to upset me, but with the lessons I learned right after she passed, I’ve found that she wasn’t quite the role-model I believed her to be.

Learning that a parent is, indeed, nothing more than human, can be devestating, and it was for me. I spent the first few months grieving more for my lost image of her than for her as my mother. Reality can be a relentless companion.

As I look into the mirror now, I no longer see the woman that failed at everything, that was weak and never did anything right. I no longer see shame in my eyes for the times I disappointed her.

Now, I can stand tall when I catch my reflection. Shoulders back and head held high, knowing that I have not lived a perfect life, but I have lived. I have made mistakes, but I have learned. I’ve had my heart broken, but I have known love.

For all my imperfections and short-comings, I have a beautiful daughter that I love with all my heart, the love and devotion of a good man and a handful of wonderful friends that I can always count on when I need someone.

I no longer live my life by the measure of a woman that hid her impefections while expecting those in her life to live up to unrealistic standards. I have begun to set my own standards for my life. I have learned that expecting the people in my life to perform to my expectations will leave me sad and alone, a fate I am determined not to share with my mother.

I have come to realize that her expectations of me were unrealistic and that if she could have seen past them, she could have really known me as a person and been able to see that I am a good person, with a kind heart. She could have seen how much her love and acceptance would have meant to me.

I will not continue to make these same mistakes with Mini-Me. In my eyes, as well as my heart, she will find the acceptance she seeks. I will know the person she is and not be blinded by my own wishes for her. I will accept her for the beautiful individual that she is and support her in her decisions in life, even the ones I don’t agree with. I will give her what my own mother never gave me, a place of love in my life where she never feels inadequate or unworthy of my love.

I don’t want it to take her loosing me for her to find her self-worth. I want to be part of watching her blossom into the outstanding woman I know she can be.

When I am gone, I want her to see my face in her own and for it to bring her pride and joy. I don’t want her to search eyes so like my own for an acceptance she should have found in mine.

As I finally begin to heal and move past the loss of my mother, I can’t help but wonder if she left this world with peace in her heart. Did she realize, too late, the things she missed out on? Was she satisfied, in her own heart, with the life she lived?

I will never have the answers to those questions. I will always wonder, and I can’t change that. What I can change is leaving those questions in my own child’s heart when I’m gone. I can live my life in such a way that she will always know where my heart is and that I have found peace in my life. I can teach her by example, to live a life filled with the joy of living and the love of those that matter.

Blessings,

Raven Moon

Changes and Catching Up

I’ve been mostly quiet this week, with the exception of my post about trying to heal some of the hurt surrounding my Mom’s passing. I haven’t been laying around all depressed and stewing in my emotional goo, like I thought I would be though.

The reason I’ve been quiet this week is because while I have been dealing with some pretty emotioal issues, I’ve also been doing something I haven’t done in years. Having a damn life of my own and taking care of shit.

I attempted to reach out to a few people this week that are always claiming to have my back but disappear whenever I actually need someone. (Call it what you will, but far be it for me to give up on someone without giving them opportunities.) Unfortunately, the result was the same either way and their name got a little strike-through in my heart and their name also got deleted from my text list and call logs. Call it childish, but I didn’t want, or need, to constantly see their names everytime I pull my phone out.

I gave myself a little time to absorb the gravity of what I was doing and then I saw a quote on FB. It said:

“When life knocks you down, get up, smile politely and say ‘You hit like a bitch.'” – Author Unknown (and I can’t remember now who it even was that posted it.)

So, that’s what I did.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it didn’t hurt. It did. Still does, to be honest, but these choices were not my fault. I’m simply choosing to have some respect for myself and refusing to be used, refusing to crawl or beg anymore.

I have enough of my own shit to deal with without wasting my valuable time on people and things that do not bring me happiness.

So, after dusting myself off, I got on with my life.

I’ve spent some time talking to one of my sisters of the heart this week, the fabulous @PonderingMama, and gotten some much needed encouragement and support.

I also spent some time talking to a woman that’s very much like a mother to me, receiving some counsel on the situation with my family.

I’ve cooked, cleaned and cared for my family, spent time reconnecting with Draco (which has been beyond awesome, by the way) and played with my fur-baby.

I talked to both my girls this week and had the first positive conversation with Mini-Me that I can remember in a long time.

I’ve been working (sort of) for my landlady, doggie and house-sitting while she makes the holiday rounds with her family.

I even baked a cake. I can’t remember when the last time I did that was.

I’ve made some other decisions, too.

I broke down and finished the process of applying for help with groceries. The week before Thanksgiving was rough, and it scared me. The two weeks since haven’t been as bad, but I know winter is coming and hours could get short unexpectedly with Draco’s job.

Draco and I talked (again) about me working but after my complete anxiety attack while standing in line in the SNAP office, even I had to admit that there’s no way I can hold a regular job anymore.

So, I got the ball rolling for help. I’m (kinda) working for my landlady. I’m going to go get my leather stuff from storage, and I’m going to write my ass off in the hopes of maybe making some money writing from home someday, and I’m going to shuffle, juggle and budget my ass off in the meantime.

This has been my “Sunday Dump”. What do you you need to dump this weekend?

Blessings,
Raven Moon

You Should Be There #PYHO

Today I’m joining in with Shell for Things I Can’t Say.

I sit and think back over my life. At the times you were there, the times you weren’t, and the times you should have been. I think of the moments in life when I have needed you more than anyone or anything, and you weren’t there.

I wear the knowledge of this pain everyday, but especially now, as I need you again, and still you aren’t there.

Throughout my life, you have been many things to me, and I to you, but I always believed in my heart that we had a special bond that was just ours. One that defied everything, including the disapproval and jealousy of her.

So many times, I withstood her wrath of not being the favorite in my heart. I absorbed her vicious comments, her hurtful words, and lost her without ever knowing her love or approval, in part, because of my love for you.

Now, the pain I couldn’t deal with months ago consumes my heart. In spite of the hurt between us, I loved her too. I am alone with my pain because I don’t have you to turn to, and that is another pain.

I pick up the phone, knowing that even if you answer, you are too deep in yourself to help me now. I feel disillusioned, I feel let down, I feel abandoned by the one person I never expected it from.

You know the truth of the life she gave me, yet you deny it in honor of a memory that is false. The person you claim she was only ever existed in your mind. You deny me my truth to protect someone that never loved anyone more than she loved herself. When did I come to mean so little, or was your love for me only a by-product of your love for her? Did our bond only ever exist in the mind of a frightened child and desperate adult?

Yesterday, I picked up the phone again, not certain what to say if you answered. Uncertain even of how to talk to you anymore. Who are you to me now that she’s gone? Or have I become just another memory to you?

Raven Moon

*This post is an attempt at healing. Since the loss of my mother, my family had completely fallen apart. Right now, I’m trying to work through my feelings about the only farther I ever had. A man who was once my God-Father become step-parent when I was 10. I have been a “Daddy’s Girl” almost my whole life. The separation since Mom passed is ripping my heart out, especially with the holidays at hand.

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