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Turn me on…

There are things that turn you on right?! I mean you know what they are, don’t you? Do you actually do those things though?

Years ago I learned that there are certain principles that work when creating a life you love, yet I don’t necessarily use them. It’s like knowing what turns you on and never doing it. You know the base principle, but you don’t get around to applying it. It’s a waste of the perfect opportunity for a great sex life. 

Now the stuff I learned was:

  • Focus creates reality.
  • Structure has integrity.
  • Thoughts and feelings aren’t real.
  • Act from the heart/intution.
  • What would I love to create?
  • Hang with the tension.

Do you ever act out of fear for what might happen if you don’t? I do. All the time. Only that’s not quite right is it? Because my focus is on what I fear. So what am I truly looking to create? 

What I should be doing is finding out what I want to create and act to achieve that. Now my focus is on what I want. Now I can create what I desire instead of avoiding what I don’t want and all along thinking about what I don’t want and most likely therefore creating that. 

Still, things can go wrong. 

For example, I could start to manipulate people to get what I want, instead of acting from the heart when creating it. In which case things can go really wrong, because you’re creating things that don’t ring true to other people’s hearts. Think of it this way: you know you want a great CEO for your company. That’s true to your heart. Then you realize one of your friends is looking for a job and they happen to be an amazing CEO with no passion for your business. You need a CEO and suddenly you aren’t checking in with your heart anymore — you just see this great CEO friend of yours and as you really need a CEO and need one now you’re set on getting them on board. Especially as they were really successful in their last venture so your ego is singing hallelujah. 

So you try to convince them. Then you beg. You might use tactics like provoking their guilt, or increasing the pay check. You might even make yourself sick with worry and ask them to please stand in for you while you are sick. And how could they refuse now? 

That kind of behavior can create a landslide of trouble as no one is acting from their heart so you have a dispassionate CEO who is likely resentful having to do what they don’t want to do. 

Similar things happen in dating all the time — instead of speaking from the heart people try all sorts of tactics to get people interested in them. It ranges from sexual manipulation, to being needy. Sexual exploration isn’t wrong, asking for someone’s help isn’t wrong, but using it to get a person involved with you without clear communication is wrong. 

So once you know what you want, you need to focus on that. Because the more you focus on it, the more energy you will give it and the more likely you are to create it. Sit thinking about how hopeless life feels and chances are you won’t have any energy to create.

Then you have to go after what you want with integrity — always acting from the heart, using your intuition as a guide. 

Along the way things will probably get pretty uncomfortable. To get what you never had you have to do what you never did. Most of us have wounds and scars and avoid certain things like the plague. Personally I have a strong dislike of speaking about emotions and standing up for myself. To avoid it I’ve used plenty of manipulation and aloofness in the past. Those were faulty mechanisms to try to protect myself from what I felt was uncomfortable. 

This is where you need to hang with the tension. Your thoughts and feelings aren’t real — they are projections based on your past, or simply interpretations of life. You can choose to see things differently and therefore feel something different. 

As for structure, everything in life has some sort of structure. If you want to create a certain result, you need a structure that supports it. For example, if when dating people you usually start having a lot of thoughts that it will never work out around week three, or month five, or whatever, then you will always break it up then, unless you create another structure. Say, you hire a coach that asks you if those thoughts and feelings are actually real and coming from your heart, or you’re acting from your wound. 

If you keep acting from your wound, instead of putting a new structure in place, you’ll keep getting the same results. 

Likewise, if you want to change your finances, or your work results, you need structures in place that help you do so. If you want to get fit, but was never motivated to do so, then you need a new structure. Such as a personal trainer who makes sure you go to the gym, an app that tracks your progress, a friend that keeps your accountable, or a new activity that you are actually excited about. 

In the last year I’ve also heard my coach say over and over again that the person with the biggest hard on wins (yes, that’s a metaphor) and I believe this is another principle I should be applying in my life. If you are constantly manipulated by other people’s energy, if your focus shifts from the results you wish to create to whatever energy is around you (be it a flat tyre, or an irritated boss), you will never achieve your results. Your energy needs to be strong enough to carry you through (see yesterday’s blog for more on this topic). It will help to have the right structures in place to support you, but you also have to keep your focus on things that inspire you enough to move forward. Focus creates reality. 

That’s it folks. I’m clearly obsessing about what’s turning me on right now, being in the end result of creating it. With, you know, some dude who gets me. 

Dizzy blonde, over and out. 

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Light my fire…

My coach always says “the person with the biggest hard on wins,” which I always thought sounded terribly crude. Coming from me, that probably sounds absurd as we’re talking someone who can crack fifty sex jokes a minute on this blog, without raising an eyebrow. Still, I think it sounds crude. Yet, last week I started repeating this phrase to myself till I was going dizzy. Why? Because it’s true. The penny finally hit the slot.

What my coach really means is that whoever vibrates on the highest frequency, or has the most energy, wins.

Have you ever met energy vampires? You’re most likely the worst energy vampire you’ll ever meet as your own energy affect you more than anyone else’s, but there are people close to us that affect us a lot as well.  The boy I raise is one of them for me, as he has behavioral issue and last week I was beside myself. I know what to do to handle him — I read The Kazdin Method for Parenting years ago and in short, you use a ton of energy to make everything you are about to do sound amazing and you encourage the kid for everything well-done. Bad behavior you say no to once, firmly, then ignore. You don’t engage. You don’t get angry. You are a loving storm wind of enthusiasm.

It’s just, I’m not always feeling like a loving storm wind of enthusiasm; sometimes I’d just like to say “Come sit down and have dinner,” without having to do funny voices, talk about how fantastic the meal is going to be, or perform a musical show for entertainment purposes. I want to be able to raise my voice when I’m annoyed about something without having to end up with a one hour, or day long tantrum because of it. But I know the moment I lower my energy, I’ve lost.

I sometimes forget to be this person. There are times when things are going well and it’s not needed and I slip into being a regular mom who gets grumpy when a child purposefully destroys a nice moment by doing something utterly ridiculous, or dangerous, like playing with buttons in my car. There are also times when I’m simply tired and think I can get away with being tired and, sometimes, grumpy. But the grumpier I get, thinking “he should just understand” the worse the situation gets.

For people who have never encountered these kind of issues, it often sounds foreign when you explain. They tell you the child needs discipline, or love, and think they’ll react like any other child. They don’t. You can’t just use logic and say it isn’t a good idea to do whatever it is they are doing and punish them for it. It doesn’t work. It just creates more havoc. For them the destructive behavior is a weapon. They use that weapon for a reason.  Maybe it’s to get attention. Maybe it’s their only way of feeling in control. Maybe it’s their way of keeping people away, as they’ve been hurt a lot. Maybe they have come to hate themselves and want to continue down that path. Whatever it is, they use anger as a weapon to get what they want. You have to disarm them. And you disarm them by bringing a completely different kind of energy to the table.

When I was beside myself last week as PMS set in, the babysitter cancelled and I was stuck with a toddler, an angry eleven-year old and his easily aggravated sister, a messy house and an intense need to work, I thought I’d break. I wanted to lock myself into the bathroom and cry. I wanted to hurl all the pain my kid ever caused me right back at him. All the hurt I felt at being on the receiving end of his anger for years. I wanted to take the pain he was throwing me and shove it in his face. I was so tired of not ever being able to come home and relax, I thought I’d snap.

I felt life was unfair and I was a victim of circumstance. I was angry about a gazillion different things that I felt were stacked against me and had been issues over the years. I wanted to hide inside a hug, or a bottle of wine. Or better yet: inside a hug in a bottle of wine. I wanted an energy to counteract my kid’s. I wished I was in London so I had more friends to turn to. I wished I had a boyfriend. I wished I had unlimited funds for nannies, therapists, schools and babysitters. I wished for a million things. And I felt lonely and helpless and sad and had no idea how to get through till evening, much less however long until the kid has everything he needs to change his behavior — from schools to therapists.

This is when I pulled myself up by the ears and told myself the person with the biggest hard on wins. I needed a different energy to counteract it all. I needed to be a positive whirlwind stronger than my kid’s anger and pain and strong enough to look after two more kids and work. I needed to be superhuman, pretty much. I needed energy super powers

Normally energy control does not involve dealing with people with severe behavioral problems. Normally it involves the thoughts you have around different situations. Habitual thoughts that drain your own energy. You go into a situation with the wrong energy to achieve what you want to achieve. Like thinking you want to be with someone but suck at relationships, or want a raise but suck at negotiating, or want a job but are terrified of interviews. When it comes to other people, normally it involves a grumpy boss, a tricky client, or a boyfriend who you want to reprimand for something, but instead of reprimanding should encourage to do something different. Because encouragement works. Positive re-enforcement. The Kazdin Method of Parenting. The biggest hard on. Call it what you like. It works.

Usually with every negative event that occurs and every negative action (or what we perceive as negative) a person takes against us, we lose a little bit of our mojo and our natural instinct is to punish. Soon we are caught up in whatever energy we were handed, instead of choosing our own energy.

You cannot solve a problem with the same thinking that created it.

The thing is, this isn’t just about problems. You have a lot of power. A lot. Your energy alone can transform not just yourself, but others. How you meet people every day affects them. Now, everyone has the option of choosing their own energy, but as my story hopefully conveys, it takes effort to do that. When you are met with a smile everywhere you go, you don’t need the same amount of effort to stay in a good space.

Everybody’s candle burns out at some point. Mine burnt out last week. I’ve struggled to re-ignite it and keep the flame going ever since. Last night I messaged my coach saying I know what to do. I know I’m not a victim. I know I can win this situation. I know if I can win this, I can win many other situations, because I will become a master at managing my own energy. I know it will take time to put functional structures, such as nannies in place, but that I can do it. I also know I need a hug. Because I’m struggling really hard right now to keep my energy up. And it certainly didn’t get better when the little one woke up at 5am and weed all over my bed. It’s an add on effect.

Shit happens. We all have our flame start flickering at some point. It might even go out, as we enter the dark side. As we give up on achieving what we truly want to achieve in a situation. Remember that you can re-ignite it. Also remember to ask for help to do so — hugs are awesome things (just don’t ask me how to ask for a hugs as I’m still working out how to do that myself — such as putting myself in the energy to receive them…).

You are a match and people are waiting to be lit up by your energy, just as you are a candle waiting to be lit up by your own flame and those of others.

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It’s time to pull the zipper down…

There are moments in life that undress you. One moment you stand there fully clothed and the next you’re stark naked.

I always liked when people got naked. Usually it’s when they run into trouble, face their demons and crack open. Their carefully crafted coping mechanisms fail. The ego driven patterns they’re hiding their flaws behind crack. And suddenly they find themselves naked. Usually uncomfortable for them, but nice for the onlookers, who suddenly see their heart.

Maybe they need to wash off some of the crap they’ve landed themselves in, but their heart is right there. And it’s beautiful.

I had one of those moments the other day. Someone asked me something along the lines of: “Wouldn’t your gran like to have had one more experience? Like if you’d asked her before she died, wasn’t there something she wished she’d done?” And my reply was: “No, she’d just have wanted to spend more time with her family.”

When I said it I didn’t think too much about it, but when I came home it made me teary-eyed. One, because that side of the family is gone save from my sister and I. Two, because I’ve been driven by so many other things than my gran was — she was driven by family and she was happy and content, save from when people started passing over. That was her downfall — she couldn’t deal with that and let new people enter her life.

I, on the other hand, have had many incredible experiences all over the world, but it wasn’t until the past five odd years I started feeling remotely happy being me. And it wasn’t until last year I started taking my social life seriously. Because even though I knew more people than most could dream of, I was so scared of rejection I never focused on actually stitching it all together. And while this blog can attest to my many epiphanies surrounding dating over the years, I never truly thought myself capable of finding a man who loved me that I loved. Until possibly earlier this year.

I know I’m a bit of an adrenaline and experience junkie. And I get high on breaking convention. I also get a sense of fulfillment from film and Magique, as well as Little Angels, that I don’t think my gran got from her work. But I also know that as a child I filled my life with stories because I felt lonely — I was bullied and unhappy around my step-mom so I hid in books.

Yesterday I went to the doctor as I’ve caught the latest Cape Town epidemic: a stomach bug. Nothing serious, just an upset tummy, but you know after a week you start feeling a tad drained. The kind doctor put me on a fast — rehydration drinks for 24 hrs followed by bread and potatoes only for 24 hrs.

Now, I’ve done a lot of juice fasts in my day and they’re fascinating, because food is one of those feel good things. Makes you happy when you taste yummy things. Also gives you energy. When you don’t have energy you get cranky and start facing your demons. Same thing if you’re bored and alone without distraction.

Today, I realized, while tired and grumpy, just how addicted I am to food. And get me right: I’m pro a certain level of food addiction. Life should be tasty, if you ask me. But I can also see how a good book and a glass of wine, or a treat and my favorite Netflix, is a substitute for going out there and meeting people. I think good books, food and Netflix are wonderful,  it’s just using one good thing to replace another isn’t a great strategy.

Co-incidentally (if there is such a thing) I’m reading Brand’s Recovery at the moment as I always wanted an excuse to attend an AA meeting so I could learn the darn steps. Now there’s a book for that. Not that I think it can substitute what you get from the group meetings, in fact I believe if you suffer from any kind of addiction AA should be your next stop (take it from one who has known and dated enough former addicts to break the rules of probability), but for us who don’t want to turn into addicts to join AA it’s a great book. At least if you’ve lived in London and are used to foul language.

Anyway, my point, dear readers, is that I realized I have my little addictions. I already knew I had patterns. Run from loneliness by creating loneliness is one of them (sounds counter-intuitive, but hey, constantly moving round the world and being a workaholic you’re too busy to get a stabile social life so you never need feel rejected). Using food and stories to combat loneliness is an addiction though. I always said that books were my drug as a kid. If it hadn’t been for stories I thought I’d ended up committing suicide or taking drugs. I never wanted to do either, but I figured that’s because I had something that gave me hope. People always look at me with incredulity when I say those things these days, because I’m no longer the shy kid hiding in my room, petrified of my step-sisters cool friends, but I still carry that child inside me. The child that couldn’t for the life of her understand why she didn’t have friends. Couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her, but figured she was seriously flawed somehow.

The truth is, I never fully opened up. I tried. Just as I tried liking myself. And it gets better all the time. I no longer want to run into walls because I hate myself so much and the experience in hospice was the latest thing that made me feel like I cracked open. And that comment about gran’s greatest desire brought it home even more — because there are few things more important than the people in our lives. I need to open myself up to those people. Unlike gran it isn’t just about family for me. I think everyone we love is family. And there are a whole bunchload of people I really love. I’d like to be fully present with them. And spend as much time with them as physically possible.

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Pieces of our soul…

I believe there are many people in our lives whom we meet and form bonds with so strong that those people come to live within us. Sometimes our meetings are brief, but powerful. Other times, people become part of us due to the sheer amount of time they spend in our presence. It’s as if these people become part of the canvas that make us who we are; part of our portrait. 

Some of these people leave our lives, for one reason or another, but I still believe they somehow nurture our life force; our heart. We may not think of them, we may not cross paths with them, but they somehow form part of who we are. I believe when these people die, so does a part of us. That part of them that lived inside of us die with them. That force that nurtured us, disappears. It crumbles and dies; turns to ash and earth and in it a seed is planted and a flower blooms. That flower is the memory of what that person brought us; the lessons they taught us and the love they gave us. 

Sometimes these days, as I do something, a scent wafts through the air that reminds me of the scent of death. A note, or two, is similar to the scent that emanated from my gran as she was dying. It’s a horrible scent. 

In the last few days of my gran’s life, I lived with her in a hospice. My bed was next to hers. My mind was attuned to her — I woke when she moaned, when she stirred, when her breathing went funny and, eventually, when her breathing seized. I flew up to hold her hand as she took her last breath. I called the nurse, then I went to open the window to let her spirit fly, breathe in the fresh air and see the snow dance outside in a beautiful farewell ceremony. 

The week and a bit I spent in that hospice changed me. Or maybe it was the following weeks when I was trying to absorb it all that changed me. There was one night when my father and sister left for the day when I thought: “I can’t do this.” I can’t take another night of little sleep, only to wake time and time again to her suffering. The night before I’d argued with the nurse in charge about giving her more “calming” medication to take away her distress. The nurse thought I was the one who was upset as she didn’t hear the moans coming from my gran when she left the room. Finally the day team arrived, heard the moans and gave her the meds. In hospice they generally give you as much meds as you like — their main duty is to relieve the suffering. 

That night, when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, was better. Someone must have told the nurse to give out the meds. Maybe because I had complained, or maybe because she’d realized I wasn’t a loony bin. Yet, that moment when my dad left me, an apologetic and pained look on his face, I thought I might break. I felt like I had barbwire running inside of me – the barbwire being my gran’s suffering. At least I knew I was there for my grandmother. The knowledge that there must be others, as weak as my grandmother — too weak to press any button to get help when needed — alone in their beds at night made me feel sick. No one would give them water, or wipe them down when they coughed things up all over themselves. It was a horrible thought. 

One morning, I believe it was after the horrible night, gran suddenly started saying: “Hold my hand, hold my hand.” And I could do that. 

I was a shy kid. I was bullied. I became scared of what others thought of me. I responded to it all by closing off; withdrawing. Too frightened of rejection to expose my heart. And I’ve spent many infuriating years trying to undo the wounds of my childhood; years of trying to open up. 

Spending that week in hospice I had one thing clear as daylight in my mind when I walked out: I would love as much as possible and for all the world to see. 

My gran was no saint. Truth be told, for all her kindness and propriety she could also be a right bitch to people, family included. Not out of any desire to do harm, but simply because she lacked all sense of tact and often got things completely wrong and reacted to imaginary hurt. But she loved me and I her. The part of her that used to sustain me — her heartbeat in mine — has wilted and died, only to be replaced by a blossom of love and memories. 

Relationships are never perfect. At some point or another we hurt one another, or get annoyed because we’re pulling in different directions. What my grandparents taught me is that if you love enough, you don’t feel the hurt when there are misunderstandings. Because you know the misunderstandings, the arguments, the whatever won’t break you. There is no real harm intended — only pain caused by confusion. And you will work it out, because you are family and family is there for each other. If you don’t have love as the main essence, if you don’t try to understand, if you don’t know that you want to be together, but actively go out to hurt one another, then it’s another story entirely.  

There was a leaflet in the hospice that said that when someone dies they sail off on a ship into the horizon; disappearing out of sight. We no longer know what journey they are on. And so it can be said for many of the people we meet — they cross our path and then sail off to new shores. They live in our hearts in one way or another. As a child this petrified me as mom died and I felt like I was left with a gaping hole inside of me — a pain that could never be cured — but I realize now that while I will never see my mother again the way she was (though I may see her in another form), I have a flower inside my heart. That’s something her mother finally came to teach me by dying holding my hand. And I still cry, but I don’t feel pain. Not that kind of pain. I feel like I have something incredibly beautiful in my heart, which no one can ever take away. 

I was miserable as a child — my grandparents, summers on the boat and the books I read that made me believe in a future different from my present, are what kept me alive. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be here today without those. And now, when all of my grandparents have left, I received another gift. The gift of loving more. 

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Image Source: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/507780926719627960/ 

For all those times you stood by me

For all the truth that you made me see

For all the joy you brought to my life

For all the wrong that you made right

For every dream you made come true

For all the love I found in you

I’ll be forever thankful guys

You’re the one who held me up

Never let me fall

You’re the one who saw me through through it all

You were my strength when I was weak

You were my voice when I couldn’t speak

You were my eyes when I couldn’t see

You saw the best there was in me

Lifted me up when I couldn’t reach

You gave me faith ’cause you believed

I’m everything I am

Because you loved me

You gave me wings and made me fly

You touched my hand I could touch the sky

I lost my faith, you gave it back to me

You said no star was out of reach

You stood by me and I stood tall

I had your love I had it all

I’m grateful for each day you gave me

Maybe I don’t know that much

But I know this much is true

I was blessed because I was loved by you

You were my strength when I was weak

You were my voice when I couldn’t speak

You were my eyes when I couldn’t see

You saw the best there was in me

Lifted me up when I couldn’t reach

You gave me faith ’cause you believed

I’m everything I am

Because you loved me

You were always there for me

The tender wind that carried me

A light in the dark shining your love into my life

You’ve been my inspiration

Through the lies you were the truth

My world is a better place because of you

You were my strength when I was weak

You were my voice when I couldn’t speak

You were my eyes when I couldn’t see

You saw the best there was in me

Lifted me up when I couldn’t reach

You gave me faith ’cause you believed

I’m everything I am

Because you loved me

You were my strength when I was weak

You were my voice when I couldn’t speak

You were my eyes when I couldn’t see

You saw the best there was in me

Lifted me up when I couldn’t reach

You gave me faith ’cause you believed

I’m everything I am

Because you loved me

I’m everything I am

Because you loved me

– Celine Dion

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Final goodbyes…

Friday I got the message I’ve been waiting for: “It’s time to come home to say goodbye to grandma.” I’ve been waiting for that message and yet it took me an hour to book the ticket because it freaked me out so much that once it’s booked that’s it. That’s the final goodbye.

A few months back, Liezl’s sister, Jess, died and I wrote a letter to Jess that I gave to Liezl. I wrote that letter because I wanted to help Liezl and I wanted to say goodbye to Jess in my own way. Below you can see an excerpt.

Liezl always tells me that she knows when I’m hurting, because she can feel it. Well, I know Liezl is hurting now, because I can feel it. So please, let her see life as a puzzle of moments made up of experiences with those we love. We only get so many puzzle pieces with each person. We never know when they will leave for another world. It feels so unfair when they do, especially when they are young, or when we have lost many people we love, but that’s life. We can’t change it. All we can do is treasure the moments we have with those we love. The ones who are here. And carry the wisdom and love of those we have lost in our hearts.

In a few months I may have to write another letter to my extra nieces in Cape Town, as their father, Tony, is dying. And I promised him I’d be there for them when that happened. Liezl and I plan to take them to see the stars — to look at their dad.

About a year ago Tony had one of his bad spells and he took the time then that he was entitled to live in a hospice for a few weeks. That he has survived till now is a miracle, but when he was in hospice I sat with Liezl and another friend of ours in the little chapel they have there. We were talking about grief. About mourning. And I felt so happy that I had those two women next to me. I knew I wasn’t alone.

I think when people die, what we need is something that anchors us to life. We need to feel love. We need to feel the joy of life. We cannot allow ourselves to be bitter about what life is: a limited period of time. Instead we need to cherish what little time we have and make every moment with those we love special. Because it is special. Every single moment you share with the people you love and care about is special.

Yesterday I was speaking with Liezl on the phone and at first I was rambling on about how this just wasn’t happening, because I needed someone to hug at night. My gran couldn’t die, if I didn’t have a man whose heartbeat I could hear through the night. I needed to know I had life next to me. But as I spoke to Liezl we spoke about the kids I raise, about the kids I mentor, about our friends in the township, about Liezl’s family and about all the plans we have for Little Angels and Malaika. And somewhere I started smiling and I didn’t stop.

My phonecall with Liezl anchored me to life; to what I love. The kids I help raise are the most important part of my life and Little Angels is the part that’s brought me the most joy.

When I got that message Friday I was overwhelmed by memories from my childhood. I was petrified of losing the one home that’s always been my safe haven — my grandparents’ flat. It’s where I lived for part of my childhood. It’s where I ran to away from my stepmom. It was my haven. It was where I built the dreams of the future.

My grandparents taught me that love is real and that the reality of it is commitment. In a family you don’t always see eye to eye, you don’t always understand each other, but you are always there for each other. You take care of each other.

My grandparents also taught me to look after what you have. You take pride in your home. In your clothes. In your being. You look after what’s yours.

When my mom died my grandparents on both sides became substitute parents. They were always there. It made me realize that family, really, is just simply the people who show up. When I moved to South Africa and started looking after children I did that because I believed all children should have what I had as a kid — someone who’s there for them. A rock.

I am coming to terms with now having to create my own haven. I need to find my own footing. I need to be my own rock. But the truth is that none of us are a very good rock on our own. We need each other. We need life. We need the sound of the heartbeats that we love.

Cherish those hearts. And commit to look after them, because that’s what family does. I’m a firm believer, as my life is a testament to, that family is the people you care about, not the people whose blood you share. My family is part South African.

I feel like I’m losing a part of myself right now. A part that’s always been there. And I keep bursting into tears. But I also know that there will be many more parts to my life; many more blessings in the shape of human beings; in the shape of beautiful souls. And together we will go on adventures and create moments filled with love and laughter.

It’s all an adventure that comes with a breathtaking view. – The Greatest Showman

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Filed under Family, Friends, Friendship, Inspirational, Love, mourning, Uncategorized

When your butt gets in the way of romance…

Does your butt ever bother you? I know mine does. I mean my butt doesn’t bother you (at least I sincerely hope it doesn’t), my butt bothers me. I often call it my greatest asset BUT…

Do you ever make excuses? Like you know you want to ask someone out, eat a healthy meal, say sorry, launch a business, confess how you truly feel, work out, apply for a better job, get dressed up like you actually cared, go for creating what you’d truly love…BUT. But that big butt of yours just feels too heavy to move. In short, you can’t be bothered. Not that you’d put it that way, but there’s always a but. Either you’re too broke, too scared, too lazy, too busy, too ugly, too inferior, too…

You get the idea.

The problem? The problem is that half of the time we don’t even realize what we’re doing. We feed ourselves our own excuses and they’re so big the desire to do what we know is right can’t even be felt anymore. We can’t see our heart, for whatever it is our ego is doing to us, be it telling us we’re not good enough, or that we will certainly fail if we try.

Think about it this way. You want to sing karaoke, but you have a fear of singing badly and being humiliated. The thought of getting up on stage just to be humiliated isn’t a nice one. So your desire to sing doesn’t even feel like a desire anymore, because the fear of humiliation is blocking it.

The desire to sing is still there. You just can’t feel it, because your broken ego has gotten in the way of your heart. And just like that our egos destroy our joy. We don’t do what we’d truly love, because of fear.

90% of people who sing karaoke sing badly. It doesn’t stop them. Because they go there to have fun. Their focus is on having fun. Not on humiliation. No one will humiliate you if you sing badly. It’s just what your ego is telling you, because once upon a time you got humiliated doing something you loved.

Life is a lot like karaoke. We avoid doing a lot of things we’d love to do, because we have something holding us back. Or we do the things, but focus on the fear, or humiliation, and end up creating that instead. Like having the most amazing singing voice, but falling headfirst on stage all the same because we’re so nervous (i.e. fear of failure/humiliation) that we can’t keep track of our own feet. That’s how we prove our fears to be true.

Personally I used to have this kind of fear of humiliation when it came to showing I cared about guys, because as a kid I was humiliated in various ways when I liked them. Once someone I was in love with even stood up in front of people and said no one could fall in love with someone like me and that was the tip of the ice berg of humiliating situations. I was only a kid. A geeky kid who didn’t love herself very much, so I believed he might be right.

He was acting like a twat, but I also realized that he only said what he did because of the position he was in. I’m fairly sure he quite liked me. But his discomfort of being put on the spot in front of other people was greater than his desire to be nice to me. His butt got in his way of doing the right thing.

I was a teenager who felt I’d been humilated in front of an entire school. My coping mechanism? Showing I didn’t care so no one could get gratification from my broken heart.

What should I have done? Turned around and said it hurt. The only thing that would have affected that guy would have been speaking from my heart to show him that his actions weren’t right. I didn’t have to condemn him for them — you can’t really condemn people once you understand why they do what they do — but you can condemn their actions. You can honor them by showing them that their actions affect others and give them an opportunity to do the right thing.

I let my butt get in the way back then, just as much as he let his. I was way too scared to speak my truth. Instead I spent the next twenty years perfecting myself (removing the shy, inferior, geek) and pretending not to care when dating and proving every fear I ever had to be true.

Recently I realized that the only thing that stops two people who are a fit from being together, is either not sorting their own shit out, or not caring enough. If you aren’t a fit, you aren’t. Nothing you can do to change that, so you can’t really fuck up in that way. Nor is it humiliating finding out you aren’t a fit — you just aren’t a fit.

So you can’t fuck up with the wrong guy and the only way to fuck up with the right one is not caring enough.

For the first time in my life I’m more worried about not showing I care, than showing I care. All thanks to realizing I cared about a guy I was dating and I was OK with that. I felt hurt and I didn’t try to prove I wasn’t.

What you want from a person you date is the same that you want in your own life — someone who can be bothered to move their butt. Someone who doesn’t let their fears, or anything else get in the way of their desire to be with you. Someone who does the right thing, even when it’s uncomfortable. Because there will be discomfort in relationships — we all have baggage and we all fuck up. You need someone who is willing to go beyond their own comfort to fuck it right. You want someone who fights for you, the way you fight for your own dreams. And to have a healthy relationship, you first have to start caring about moving your butt in your own life.

We all know what the right thing to do is. We all know what we feel. We all know what we want to create. The question is if our our fears are making us feel like we don’t want to do what we truly want to do? Is our fear preventing us from creating a life we’d love? Are we sitting on our butts, or are we creating our dreams?

My gran is dying and I keep thinking she doesn’t have a chance to create anymore. I can. I can choose to create all the things I dreamed of when I was a kid sitting in her kitchen. I can tell her that my life is finally going somewhere because I ditched the excuses and the fears and started working from the heart.

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Filed under adventures in life, Dating, diary, Inspiration, Inspirational, Love, Motivation, Relationship, relationships, romance, Uncategorized

A Valentine’s confession…

It’s Valentine’s Day and I’ve been sick for a week, so I feel like a cross between Frankenstein and your grumpy old grandma. Naturally I decided that the only thing to do was to kick the blues and put on my red little dress….and sneeze some more. Nothing better than to dress up for the sake of dressing up, right?

Wrong.

While I think all the people posting about self-love and looking after yourself on Valentine’s is sweet, I also think half of it is a load of bullshit. I don’t know about you, but Valentine’s is about Mr Hot and Bothered being bothered enough to tell you that you’re effing amazing and going out of his way to prove it. It’s the day for romantic love. And if you don’t have a date, it’s more productive to upload a new Tinder profile shot than drinking Chardonnay with your girlfriends, though I’m not against the wine per se. I just think the best thing to do if you want a date for next year is to get on with it, not to pretend that Valentine’s is about galentines.

That said, drinking wine with your girlfriends is a lot better than moping. Most people get hurt in love at some point, or lose love, or simply don’t find it when they want to. The only person that can change that is you. You are the only common denominator to your love life. If something isn’t working, change it. If you keep thinking you lost the only true love, or you aren’t good enough to find love, change it. Because it simply isn’t true. Unless you make it out to be true, because people have a funny way of proving their own beliefs.

I’m in awe of all the people who have found a person they love and cared enough to create an amazing relationship. I’m in awe of all the broken hearts who have gotten over themselves and opened themselves up to love again. I’m in awe of people who have fucked up and had the guts to fuck it right. I’m in awe of all the people who confess to wanting the big L instead of pretending they don’t give a hoot.

I used to be the person who pretended not to care. I think I’ve made every possible mistake in the book of love. But do I believe in love? Yes. I believe in every unrealistic tale of beating the odds there ever was. I believe in moonlit walks and starry eyed picnics. I believe in family and commitment and giving a fuck.

End of rant. Now go hug someone. Everyone needs hugs on Valentine’s, because one thing is true: the more love you have in you, the easier it is to find love all round. And we can all help people feel more loved. In turn, we’ll probably end up feeling a lot more happy ourselves.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Ohmigosh, did someone say Valentine’s?!

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Filed under Love, Love-life, relationships, Uncategorized, Valentine's Day