Nanny 9/11- The little girl that got me through

Originally uploaded by Sully Pixel

What do you remember about 9/11...Where you were...What you did hear first... How you did feel...It was a heavy day for most Americans. Most of us lived secure and serene lives completely unaware of the possibility that are land and our family could be thrust in unimaginable. Up until then I'd never entertained the thought that someone could come into our country and kill so many people at one time. My heart goes out to everyone who experienced a loss and my prayers are with you.

On September 11th, 2001 I was a full time nanny for a sweet little girl who was 2 years old. That is by far my favorite job to date. I was able to spend time with an incredible little girl her grab my heart the first time I laid eyes on her. We had so much freedom to get up and go as I pleased and that morning I decided to a her Borders for story time. I turned on the radio and heard a new report about a plane crashing into one of the twin towers. Confused and upset, I thought instantly that this was more serious than we know yet. I turned off the radio and put in a cassette of Veggie Tales sing along and we sang at the top of our lungs...

...That's what we did sing but I wanted to know everything that was happening. I wanted to know if anyone was hurt. I wanted to see the footage that they had. I wanted to know if should take shelter. If I needed to come up with an emergency plan with her parents.  I wanted to go back to the house and stay glued to the tv so that I could find out the best plan to save our lives if it came down to that, but I knew that I would not do that. I believe that kids are incredibly smart and they very sensitive to the things that we try to hide from them. So I since I could not be trusted to not turn on the TV as soon as we returned home I decided that today would be a fun day. I wanted that little girl to have a great day. She'd had enough hardships in her life. We parked and walked into Borders and quickly walked past all the people that were on their cell phones talking in a worried tone. No worries the story teller was there and in a great mood. She used all kinds of voices and all the kids had a great time.

Story time was too short. I decided that we would stay out as long as possible. I thought of calling her parents because I knew hearing her voice would encourage them beyond my imagination, but the network was busy and I could get any calls through anyway. So it was off to the park. I put her on a swing and we had the best time. I taught her to say,"YEEEHAWWWWW!'", with a proper Texan accent. She ran around and had her choice of playground equipment, we were the only ones there. The park was clean, warm and pleasantly quiet, except for all the noise we made.  I remembered feeling grateful for the sun and the sky and for the peace and safety that I felt. I remember staring up at the clouds and feeling nervous when a plane passed overhead. I thought it was way to low and wondered if my perception was off because of today's events.

Finally we had company. A man and his lap top. He seemed equally eager to enjoy the day as we exchanged words through sincere smiles. My curiosity got the best of me and I asked him for an update; he informed me of the second plane. I took a deep breathe and decided that I would not cry now. It felt good to smile and I was not sure that if I had enough control to only let a a few tears fall. Would I be able to remain upbeat for the little one.

After avoiding home so long I knew it was time to for lunch. So a few songs later we were home and I warmed up some food, put her bib on and turned her away from the TV...  I could not take it anymore. I had to know the state of our country. I needed to connect with all the hurt and fear that was happening.. I needed see it for myself...

... Its was awful; hate does the ugliest things. So many lives, so much losses. Fires, crashes, escaping, collapsing, jumping, crying, smoky, hijacking, death... I was stuffed my face as I stuffed my feeling.

When the little one's moms came home I was staring at the TV with a fork in my mouth. She'd come home early to wrap that little girl up in her arms and tell her how much she loved her. I knew it looked bad that I was eating and watching the horrendous footage in front of her daughter. I wanted to explain but thought that would be selfish. The most important thing I could do was make a quick exit so that a little girl could experience her mother's love and her mother could get the comfort, warmth and peace that I got experience all day because of her spirit and her smile.

listening to "Fire And Rain - James Taylor with lyrics" ♫http://blip.fm/~d7z8x

Hidden Anger Quiz

The problem with hidden anger is that it is hidden. Passive-aggressive actions can be subtle or hard to spot. The quiz is taken from the book Overcoming Passive-Aggression: How to Stop Hidden Anger from Spoiling Your Relationships, Career and Happiness. Take a minute to assess how you're doing. To complete this brief questionnaire, write down on a sheet of paper either "yes" or "no," regarding your own behavior. If your tempted to write down "sometimes," determine the frequency involved so that you can gauge the degree of difficulty your having.

Hidden Anger Quiz

1. Was anger prohibited in your home as a child?
2.  
3. Did you (or do you) struggle to please your parents?
4.  
5. Would you describe your parents as having a negative attitude when you were growing up?
6.  
7. Do you take actions to protect your status quo?
8.  
9. Do you use brief answers or short phrases to express yourself?
10.  
11. Do you smile when you're actually frustrated?
12.  
13. Do others tell you about an interpersonal problem they think you have that you don't see?
14.  
15. Are you ever intentionally slow performing a request?
16.  
17. Do you tell others that you don't understand their request or concerns so that they'll leave you alone?
18.  
19. When you disagree, do yo fell less anxiety by silencing your frustration?
20.  
21. Do you see things mostly in black and white, with very little falling into the gray area in between?
22.  
23. If you see a coworker make a big mistake, do you keep quiet?
24.  
25. When afraid to share your opinion, do you later resent things not going your way?
26.  
27. Do you bristle when others criticize your work?
28.  
29. Do you soothe uncomfortable feelings with food, alcohol, drugs, sex, or gambling?
30.  
31. Do you often feel that problems you encounter are someone else's fault?
32.  
33.  Do you continue an argument past its logical end?
34.  
35. Does fear of rejection prevent you from taking actions?
36.  
37. Do you feel that others can make better decisions than you can?
38.  
39. Have you ever turned in projects that contained errors or omissions that would cause problems for someone?
40.  
41. Do you yearn for more freedom in a relationship but at the same time wish to close?
42.  
43. Have you ever had hard time following the wishes of those in authority?
44.  
45. Do you resent someone telling you how to do a better job?
46.  
47. Do you keep your feelings inside for so long that you eventually explode unexpected outbursts?
48.  
49. When a person is too demanding of you, do you look for ways for him to fail?
50.  
51. Have you put your foot in someone's path because you resented path person's good fortune? 

The purpose is not to give a definitive "score" but to alert you of the presence of your own hidden anger, needs, fears, and things you might be avoiding. The more "yes" answers you have tallied the more likely it is that you're concealing emotions, including anger. Concealing anger makes anyone much more apt to react inappropriately or in a passive-aggressive manner.

Complaining About Hubby

My husband, nicknamed Gambit, is a very patient man. He has to be to deal me for 18 years. I know that he's lucky to have me but I do express unpleasantries from time to time (that's PC for complaining, yelling, avoiding fun, being antisocial....................you get the point).

I recently felt the need to vent (complain) about a few of Gambits actions that upset me. If I could have articulated myself at that time I would have calmly set a few boundaries. Instead I was carried away by my emotions and let them control of the conversation. What I thought would be five minute conversation turned into a two hour vent feast where Gambit took many blows to his ego. There was no name calling or I hates yous; instead I insisted that he had wronged me and I wanted him to acknowledge it and make an effort to change. Several times I thought that I should stop because I was unable to communicate in a productive. But I continued because the pent up frustration was leading to recurring depression so I thought that it was important to say it all while I had the chance.

I what I did was whine and blame Gambit for our problems. It was the benefit was getting me in touch with a lot of suppressed emotion that keep my passive and hopeless. Because I did not express my feelings, thoughts and solutions I put everything on Gambit's shoulders. If he did not fix the problem it would not be fixed. If he did not change his behaviors we were doomed to fail. It was his fault and I was a helpless victim...In reality I was a person who has not had much practice expressing my authority and disapproval. When I attempted to do so it comes off too aggressive and so I repent by backing off and becoming nice. This  mistake taught me that setting boundaries is a cure for nagging. Setting boundaries should include asking the action you desire, describing the action you don't like and explaining what your corresponding reaction each action in the future...

...Just in case you are wondering the argument was about how money should be handle, c'est la vie...

During the conversation with Gambit did not feel loving...I felt mean. The conversation did not feel productive...it felt like an excuse to take out my frustration and make him feel bad, but I don't regret it any of it. The things that I said to him were emotions that I've tried to manipulate into acceptable and loving reaction. I tried to make myself in a good wife by being submissive and supportive.When we disagreed I'd usually let him know my opinion but I tried to prove that I trusted him even when he made decision with our money that I did not like. So I did not express myself the way a good wife should...SO WHAT! I've learned through my battle with depression that I have to express myself and to set boundaries when I feel hurt or taken for granted. I may not always do it the right way, but I think that striving for perfection hinders balance and harmony in self. Instead I'll strive to be authentic and honest.

Still I felt bad for Gambit. Even a short session of someone pointing out my faults triggers emotions of self doubt, anger, and sadness. When people critic me I want immediate encouragement through loving affirmations or I will start to avoid that person. My husband however sat there and took complaints  like a champ: he did not interrupt, was not defensive or aggressive, and he never raised his voice. In fact he encouraged me to get it all out because he knew that I needed to. I was scared that he'd become cold and distant and that night he said some things that hurt my feeling but his words were vulnerable and honest and I was grateful for that. After all was said and done he wanted to make sure that I came to bed to lay beside him. He held my hand and wiped my tears.  We went to bed spent, but not angry and I knew then that we would be okay in the morning.

...And we were. He was so loving and attentive the next day: eager to please, lots of kisses and hugs. He wanted me by his side every free moment he had. So to thank him for encouraging me and helping me let go of my hurts I wrote a letter to him titled "Thank You My Love".

Gambit has taught me what unconditional love looks like. Gambit I love you more than I could ever express in words. "Between me and you... I can honestly say...that things can only get better..."

Related Posts:
Thank You...My Love Letter To Gambit-  3L Saturday Love
My Sick Baby- Love, Lust and Life
My Money Secret- 3L TCB Thursday

Thank You My Love- letter to Gambit

Thank you for letting me talk and vent my frustrations. You could have taken my words personally; instead you put my needs first and encouraged me to speak freely. Because of your patience and love my mind has clarity, my heart has peace, and my eyes have a greater appreciation for you. You mean the world to me, so it scares me to be honest with you about my anger or disappointments. I usually try to avoid complaining about my hurt feelings because of my fear of losing your love, but with out fail you still love me.

I know its hard for you to have those emotional talks. I know that when I get going my emotions are intense and my words can be hurtful. I know that those are the times that I share with you my arrogance, ingratitude, and moody disposition. I'm sorry for that, but I truly thank you for telling me be completely honest, reminding me not hold back.

Please believe me when I say that I love you the way you are; I am willing to do what it takes to make sure you know that. Thank you so much for your honesty and responding with a heart-warming apology. I know you are not perfect, but I can't imagine loving anyone else the way I love you. Thank you for helping me feel more secure about expressing myself, instead of just trying to "wish it away". Thank you so much for holding my hand, kissing my forehead and telling me over and over that you love me.

Daddy Don't Spank No More

Originally uploaded by Xiguli - Lisa




One of my favorite memories of me and my dad is the first and last time my dad spanked me. I know that sounds weird but let me explain.

I was, am and always will be daddy’s little girl, or baby girl as he use to call me. I loved spending time with my dad, watching TV with my dad, wrestling with my dad, working on cars with my dad, pretty much anything that involved my dad I loved to do, even if things I'd never do it alone (like watching Star Trek). My dad has an engaging laugh, a magical hug, impressive cognitive abilities, ambitious vision, eclectic interest, etc... He never tried to force his interest on me but just shared himself and the things he liked to do. My dad was offered a job in Texas and that’s why we moved down there. In Texas I learned how to get along with others, and one way was to try my best not to stand out. Don’t be the best dressed, but don’t be the worst either. Don’t be the teacher’s pet, but don’t get any F’s or D’s. I never was treated badly for being different, but I did not want to test the boundaries seeing that my skin color stuck out like a sore thumb.

I was a pretty smart kid and I liked learning, but I was scared that being labeled as a nerd was social suicide. Whenever someone, especially a teacher, put me on a pedestal or on the spot I quickly adjusted so that I could blend in again. I noticed early on in my life that I have the ability to take interest in just about anything. One thing I love my dad for is that he did not label or expect specific things from me. He introduced me to everything and stood back as I observed and decided for my self whether or not I wanted to try it out. He gets a lot of the credit for my interest in chess, football, books, math and anything else that could be perceived harshly by my critics.

Still I was a normal kid who loved to play. I especially loved to ride my bike. When I was 6 years old we stayed in a small two bedroom apartment. I was supposed to bring my bike inside every time I finished riding it; I didn't know why at the time but I assume it was to keep it from getting stolen. For some reason I would forget and leave it outside anyway. One day my father came home from work and saw that I again left my bike outside after several corrections. He was so calm when he instructed me to go my room. He sat down on my bed and told me why he was upset with me and gave the world famous “this is going to hurt me more than you” speech. I remember clearly that my dad barely touched my bottom as he spanked me, but I cried anyway.

He left my room and closed the door behind him. While perched on my knees right by the door, the gravity of what had just happened sunk in and I screamed at the top of my lungs, “HE DOESN’T LOVE ME ANY MORE!. HE DOESN’T LOVE ME ANY MORE! HE DOESN’T LOVE ME ANY MORE!” As a kid I hardly ever cried; in fact my mother jokingly calls me ice queen. Today was different. I just kept repeating the “he doesn’t love me…” mantra until my voice gave out. At the time, I knew without a doubt that the spanking hurt my heart WAY more than it hurt his. Now of course I have a different perspective. I was a 6 years old daddy’s girl and believe; it was no coincidences that my father never spanked me again.

Fast forward to me at 9 years old with a C on my report card and teachers commenting that they believe that I’m not living up to my potential. (Question - How do teachers know that?) I'm in my bedroom with my dad as he explains that I'm on punishment is becuase he expects me to give my best. During these lectures I’d present a stone face, but my heart felt ripped my heart to shreds explaining to me how disappointed he was in me. All I could remember thinking was, “I wish he would just spank me.”

Related Links:

The Stepmom Struggle

Eggs, Ice and Tears

Father's Nose is Best

Mommy Me and Moving

Originally uploaded by Airchinapilot

I spent time with my mommy. I am a grown woman but I still get excited to spend good quality time with my mom. We are both busy and have a hard time getting together even though we live about 20 minutes from each other. It does not seem that long ago that I my interest in college was based on the distance away from home. The further it was away from my mom the better. I can only laugh at myself now knowing that his is a just a normal part of growing up. I have always loved my mom and have nothing but nice things to say about her.

My mom was engaged to my dad when she was 17 years old. Her freshman year in college she made an doctor's appointment so start taking birth control pills, but during that appointment she found out that she was pregnant with me. My parents got married and moved into an apartment, and I was born. At my parent's were both 18 when they had me and as you can imagine times were hard. I'd like to think of myself as daddy's and mommy's little girl. I love my dad with all my heart, but I loved spending time with my mom. I loved watching tearjerkers with her, cooking with, gardening with her...anything she did I wanted to be right there.

I'm sure she would not agree. She tells me that the fist night that she brought me home I slept through the night, and was that way for the rest of my childhood. The first day she took my to school she tried her best to prepare me for what was going to happen. She would have to leave me with some very nice teachers but that she would pick me up and take me home everyday. She knew that I could not understand and worried that I would cry and beg her not to leave. So she took me to school and at the door reminded me that she would be back and I said, "okay mommy, see you later." I was so focused on playing with the other kids that I did not notice my mom crying in the doorway. Mom tells me about how she had to watch me like a hawk because I'd love everyone and she knew that I would leave with anyone who would have me.

As a teenagers it was sometimes difficult to be around her. I did not know how make my own decisions and I felt controlled by her; I knew that with a significant distance between us I would mature. That's the main reason why I wanted to go to a school in Alabama but only made it to Ohio. Not that far away from Michigan but it was the perfect distance. I'd visit home often but I was still able to make my own choices. This was great for us and she became my best friend. There was no longer tension in our relationship, instead I was call to talk about any and everything. For the first time I could openly talk about sex, school and secrets. Being friends with your parents is better than a peer relationship because she had already been and give great advice. I was able to trust her more because she seemed to respect me as a young adult. I loved to bring my friends home to her because I knew that nobody had a mom as cool, down to earth, smart or fun as my mom. I wanted to share the wealth and did so as she let anyone I befriended call her mom.

Now mom is talking about moving to another state to find a new job. I want her to go whenever she needs to go to find success, happiness and hopefully love but I don't want her to leave me. Though I don't see her as much I'd like to I know that she is always a phone call away. I find myself daydreaming about being able to by a mansion that can house my whole family, everyone having their own wing but a huge kitchen and living room so that we can all spend time together. I told my mom of my desire and she smirked and said I need to be at least a two blocks away from you. What a role reversal, my mom would not allow me to go to Alabama because it was too far away, now she seems open to moving to Canada. I feel like I miss her already even though she is still close to me.

Its A Family Affair- getting honest with grandpa

Sometimes I feel like a walking contradiction; one post is about how much my family loves me and the next comment expresses thoughts on being a disappointment to them. The thing is that I could not pick a better family, and they have not had a chance to see me shine yet. For instance I wish that I was closer to my grandfather. It is not a lack of love on either side, it is just that I find myself avoiding my family as a whole. Sometimes it is hard fro me to separate one persons opinion from the family unit. This is not good because I don't think certai8n people know how much I love them. In particular I don't talk to or see or my grandfather. So to fix that I tried to come up fool proof conversation that did not lead to the disappointing,"what are you doing with your life" talk.

My new plan to rebuild bridges was to plan out my conversations before I call people. I try to come up with something of mutual interest and try to gracefully end the conversation before it became too personal. Armed and confident I called my grandfather because I miss him so much. My grandfather answered the phone and was so surprised that I called the first thing that he asked me was "What wrong with you?" I was not at all prepared for that response and just said quickly that I wanted to talk about the current mayor. He said that he did not want to talk about that but obliged me anyway. He quickly explained his thoughts on the matter and asked me what I thought. I was not even prepared to give my opinion but I kind of mirrored what he expressed and did not now how to move to the next topic in a natural way. He asked me what was going on with me. After trying to appear as if I was really considering his question I said not much. He said "Come on, I hardly talk to you and you have nothing new to share?"


I know my grandfather is very smart; I tried to get over on him and he saw right through me. He knew what I was trying to do but I was hoping that since he is a man he would not question my avoidance; in fact a lot of men welcome it. I gave a quick blurb about working for my husband and tried to quickly and smoothly find my footing. I finally shared that I felt scared at the thought of disappointing him. I thought that saying that to him would hurt our relationship even more; instead it cleared the air for an honest and sincere conversation. He said that he'd gotten everything off his chest he needed to and that he just wanted to understand that my life was up to me.

I should believe this already but I needed every word. I needed to know that he loves me and always will and that I should not avoid him because I am the apple of his eye. He proceeded to walk me down memory lane of all the things he did for me and with me because he loves me. I have always know that my grandfather is special and that I'd be lost without him, but now I know that he feels that way about me too! I was trying to avoid disappointment but I instead I was avoiding love, support and the most important people in my life. Though I have felt disrespected by some, I have never felt that from my grandpa. Having him as my grandfather reminds me that I am intelligent, good natured, beautiful and dynamic because of my DNA.

Sly & The Family Stone - Family Affair (Live)

Have you ever disappointed someone who has unconditional love for you? How do you handle it? What do you do when someone you love disappoints you?

Mean Uncle George- by Lazy King

2 years ago, one of my uncles and I decided to live together for money savings. Let's name him George. I was 21 and he was 43.

Unfortunately I immediately realized he wasn't the person I thought he was. George was selfish; he never shared anything and never did me a favor. He wasn't cleaning up his mess, wasn't doing his dishes and sometimes was too lazy to flush the toilet. I'm not exaggerating! George was also the most negative person in my life. Every time, I had to apply for a job, scholarship, student loans etc... He was telling me that I'll get a negative response. He liked to argue too, his attitude was something like "I'm older than you so I can do whatever I want and I'm always right". Then I gave him the silence treatment because he wasn't pleasant at all. It was awkward living with someone without talking to each other. His reaction to the silence treatment was to call my parents and tell them that I was rude and I was ignoring him. I'm not a drama person, so I let it go once again. Did I mention he was racist? He was disgusted by any other race and sometimes I felt that he didn't even like his own people.

One day George came to me and said that he has not any issues with me that he really appreciates me but he doesn't like to chat a lot with me because we don't have the same interests. Seriously what kind of 43 years old man opens his mouth and says such things?

Meanwhile we were working at the same office. I was hired for part time because I'm a college student but he was working full time. After few weeks, it was clear to all of our coworkers that I was more professional, nicer and had better results than him even though he had more experiences. That situation must have killed him. He started doing every stupid and mean thing to me so I could be late or not showing up at work.

After that I was completely certain that this man is insane and I decided to ignore him for the rest of my life regardless what my parents/brothers/sisters/cousins would say. I left him and rented an apartment for only myself without telling him anything. Now George is dead to me but I learned that:

--You can be more than 30 and still be immature and stupid
--Never let someone else negativity break you down
--You never know someone real personality until you live with him or her
--People can be your enemy even if you are really nice to them

Eggs, Ice and Tears

Suicide...by Francisquini

I can remember sitting on a brown chicken egg. I know that sounds a little too strange but I was four years old. My teacher in preschool had an incubator with chicken eggs so that we could what them hatch. That was one of that was the coolest thing I'd ever seen. I've always been an animal lover; so to be able to take the place of a hen and birth a baby chicken would be a the best.

See I'm not an ice queen! Ice Queen one of several nicknames that my mother gave me that made me smile: Mickey Mouse, peanut , etc… I blame the nick name on the movie Brian’s Song, the highly esteemed 70s tear jerker. My mom bawled at the end of it and I did not share a tear and I guess she noticed. I was born and raised on home grown tomatoes and soap operas. I absolutely love high drama but never seemed to have the same reaction that my mother did. I thought it was cool that my mother cried at the end of Ice Castles, Imitation of Life and Terms of Endearment because I felt the emotion of those heart wrenching movies , but crying wasn’t a natural reaction for me. When I considered the fact that maybe my response was not heart felt enough my mind quickly chimed in, telling me that these were actors that were still alive and that I could enjoy the movie just as much as my mother without Kleenex.

I don’t remember crying that much as a child. There are only a couple of incidents I can remember, but my mom loves to recount this particular incident. Again I was about four and my mother was downstairs in the kitchen cooking dinner and I was upstairs watching TV in my parents’ room. All of a sudden she heard me scream and cry at the top of my lungs; she ran upstairs at top speed. When she burst in the room she found me sitting upright in front of the TV. Confused as to what could cause this outburst she asked me what was wrong? Struggling to catch my breath and slow down my tears I heaved until I could yell out, “Boomer doesn’t have a home!”, and I continued to cry.

Just a little background Boomer, much like Benji, was a movie about a dog that some how got separated from his family and was combing the streets alone without anyone to love him. The concern and compassion that drove my mother up a flight of stairs in a heart beat to save her daughter from a life and death situation immediately evaporated and was replaced with temporary disdain. She’d probably never seen me emote that much before in my entire life. She couldn’t help but to remember us sitting side by side watching Brain’s Song without one single expression of sorrow, but without effort or restraint I cried as if I'd been run over by a truck when watching a movie about a dog; he was still alive and had a guaranteed happy ending.

One day I opened the fridge and found a brown chicken egg. Since I thought all eggs were white I concluded that this egg had a baby chicken in it. I informed my mother of this fact; although she did not seem to agree she allowed me to take it upstairs to hatch it. So with two friends in tow I went out on the porch were it was warm a squatted down like a good chicken mom. I was pretty strong kid and had nice thigh muscles so I did not foresee any problem; I can’t remember how long I lasted but the story ended with a cracked shell and yolk spread out on the porch floor. Although I took the responsibility for not saving the chick I had matured since the Boomer incident. My mother’s reaction taught me that all lives are important, whether it’s as a fictional person or dog, or an unborn egg. So with grace and discernment I did not cry over spilled yolk but I rejoiced at my Christmas present that year (a puppy).

Thanks mommy for understanding me!

Please share some special stories about your childhood.

Peer Pressure from Grandma

Gummy Bear 365...,  by Gloomy Little Cloud

Peer pressure is a part of childhood. Kids want so badly to impress their friends that they will participate in activities that scare or make them uncomfortable. Can you remember those days, going to a party and being surprised by a circle of your friends passing around a joint? Going to a boy's house and being pressured to engage in sexual activity before your ready. Well I can, in fact I can remember the first time I felt peer pressure.

My family was a having a get together/party over my aunt's house. There are a few people in my family that have the title aunt or uncle or cousin attached to their name. So with such a huge family I'm not sure exactly I'm related to everyone but I kind of like it that way. I loved our family get together, they were so much fun. The kids would run around saying the darnedest things and the adults would sit around saying the darnedest things. I feel in the middle. In my family, due to my parents having me when they were young, there was no one that was in my age group. Most of the kids I could babysit and most of the adult conversation were monitored until they just felt the need to kick me out.

My grandma was the coolest; she always included me in the adult conversations. My grandmother always did whatever it took to make me laugh. She is funny, sweet natured and down to earth. I could talk to her about boys, the frustrations my parents caused me and about any hope and dream I had. She was the person that let me know that it okay to think for myself and to comfortably talk about mature subjects instead of pretending I was too young to know what people were talking about. At the party I was alone with grandma in the den; I stood and talked to her as she sat in a recliner, sipping an alcoholic drink. I could tell she was a little more smiley than usual but I would not go so far as to say she was buzzed, she defiantly was not drunk. So I was shocked when she motioned for me to come closer and then to take a sip of her drink.

Confused and flustered I furrowed my brow and said "No grandma". She said come on just a little sip, no one will no. I couldn't believe my ears. I think I was 15 at the time. I had a few friends that started drinking, even a couple of friends in middle school that brought liquor to school, but they never offered me any. As a kid I thought that you should do what your elders tell you to do, but I also believed at 15 I should not drink. And why was she offering this to me anyway. Was this just a trick to see if I would give into pressure? I was a little curious about how it would taste and how it would make me feel. Adults always seemed to have more fun when they started drinking. Still I knew that it did not make since for me to drink, even a sip. I felt uncomfortably rebellious but still persistently I told my grandmother no, kissed her cheek and walked away.

I have to tell you that I felt so proud of myself for that. When I was 16, I went to a party and the kids were drinking. Instead of drinking I danced and enjoyed myself. I also look at the way everyone's behavior changed when they started drinking. One image engrained in my mind was of a girl in a tight dress. She was dancing with a boy that was standing behind her, grabbing her ample bosoms and lifting them up and down to the beat. I was no angel but thought that was a bit much for me. Still no one pressured me to drink. The first time I felt pressured wasn't until I was 18; I was hanging out with some friends and every there was drinking and smoking weed, everyone except for me. My friends tried to talk me into drinking but I did not feel any desire to impress anyone. I was having just as good of at time as everyone else; in fact some people thought I was drunk because I was so silly. Because I abstained I was able to be there for my friend, holding her hair back when she got sick to her stomach. I was also able to say no to sex with my ex. I t felt great to able to go home that night guilt free and tell my mom that I had a good time without feeling like I was lying to her.

Again I'm no angel. I did not make it to the legal drinking age, but I did wait until I was 20 years and 7 months old. When I found out that I could drink without losing all self control all bets were off and I drank more than I should have, but I'm proud that I waited so long. I truly believe that because my grandma pressured me first I was able to deal with peer pressure. I've never asked her what her motivates were that day but regardless of her intentions I give her the credit for helping me think under pressure and avoid addiction that griped a few of my friends that stared indulging too soon. You may not agree with my grandma's actions but you'll have to take my word for it, that her love is intense and that she always has my best interest at heart. Besides, cookie cutter grandma's are over rated, I'll take my peer pressure grandma any day.

How did you deal with pressure when you were a kid?

Hidden Strengths

Marilyn Monroe "strength"
Originally uploaded by curious-feline

I'd loved to express myself masterfully through the art of words. Instead I find myself I publishing a post filled with links to sites where people had the gumption to say what they think, feel, want and hate.

When I began to blog I was excited to finally discover a vehicle to get it all out and find others who were interested in what I had to say. Here in my house I feel safe and secure to share anything that my heart desires, at least I use to. Its tough to pour your heart out when only a few people comment. I love that anyone reads my writing, but I really want to know what they think.

I'm not sure why feedback is so important to me. Maybe I want to know how to improve. Maybe my writing is so personal that I feel rejected if no one cares to comment.

This blog was originally titled Love Lust and Life. LL&L is my online journal; a chronicle of my life experiences and choices. I want to share the good the bad and ugly in my life. Also LL&L will promote tolerance; I hope that by sharing different aspects of my life, people might become patient with others and themselves. As a social person who can experience platonic love at first sight I work hard to understand everyone's point of view and personal plight. I hate it when people are mean, harsh, critical, gossipy, or two-faced. I hate when people exclude or pick on people just in order to display their own hysterical hierarchy. So LL&L has become an extremely open minded, loving, humble and patient blog.

I really appreciate those qualities but I have noticed one important drawback; I have lost my own voice and my writing has suffered because of that. By making sure that no one's opinion were dismissed I'd stopped having my own.


Maybe people did not comment because I stopped sharing anything of substance. I was overly concerned with making every one happy.Ignored my own needs to express my anger, my convictions and my opinions. I am still want to remain an open minded person but it is time for a rebirth of sorts.

It is time to let out my inner Sasha so that I can become stronger, better, faster, stronger and dynamic. Fear of being judged a hypocrite or intolerant of other beliefs kept me somewhat superficial in the past. Now I am free to express myself without shame or guilt.

Who is LL&L. I am very weak with many strengths. I am nicest hot-tempered person I know. I am very understanding with some inflexible convictions. I possess prideful humility. I am doormat that won't be disrespected. It is time to embrace my whole self and to not worry about being inconsistent or disappointing people just by being true to myself.


I invite you to do the same. Love yourself unconditionally and don't be quick to judge. Take the time to observe the dynamic spirit in every life you come across and your life will be deeply meaningful.

Have hidden parts of yourself to please others? If so what do you think would change if you made a commitment to express yourself as you are, instead of trying to make yourself conform to other people's standards?

I'm a Bitch I'm a Lover Meredith Brooks
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hold my hand by Adam Foster | Codefor

My husband has been my best friend for 17 years, but we have only been together for 4 1/2 years. The love that we have for each other has been a constant work in progress, but I am so grateful that it took so long. Why? I think it gave us a chance to develop a strong friendship as our foundation.

I was not a virgin when we started dating but I felt like one; when we started dating I was celibate, going on 9 years. I had a boyfriend for 2 years and we never even kissed, just hugged and held hands. When that realtionship did not work out I found myself wishing that I could just be with my best friend, but I knew it could never work. One problem, he did not want to wait for marriage to have sex, and I did not want to even kiss until my wedding day. The main problem was that I had never looked at my friend in that way. I knew that you shouldn't force romantic feelings, even if you think that person would be good for you. So for more than 1 year I tried hard not to kill all thoughts of us being together.

Then I noticed that he started becoming distant. He stopped opening up to me, barely called, and sometimes sounded irritated. It concerned me and I knew I had to do something to save are relationship. One night, alone in my apartment, I thought of how much I cared about this man but I'd never told him. If you can't tell by now I am a very expressive person; I wear my heart on my sleeve and I tell my friends and family what they mean to me. I've done this with everyone but him.

In the past he'd expressed interest in dating to me and I thought that to tell him that how great I thought he was would be leading him. Now things were different, he barely wanted to be around me, and was focused on so many other girls I knew that leading him on would not be a problem. So with a little courage I called him with the intention of having a 5 minute conversation about how lucky I am to have a friend like him. I called him all right but that's not what happened.

The conversation started off by me asking him if I was his best friend. I don't remember how he answered but I do remember him saying that he never knew that I considered him mine. I didn't know how that was possible; he's the only person on earth that I have told everything thing to, poor guy. Then I started to tell him how much I appreciated him and moved on to I did not know what I would do without him.

Then, without warning my mouth seemed to have a mind of its own; it said things that I had not planned to say, and expressed feeling I didn't know I felt. With a shaky voice I apologized for never letting he knows before how much I loved and adored him. I went on and on about his wonderful attributes that made him basically the best human being I've ever known. How grateful I was for him sticking by my side through some rough periods and how he deserved nothing but the best out of life.

As my mouth open the flood gates of my heart's emotions poured out. I'd always believed that friendship can be a profound love, but this was different. I was expressing was something more than that. Finally after 45 minutes of none stop talking I tried to catch my breath as I waited for his response. I thought he would respond by telling me that we would always be the best friends and that I had nothing to worry about. Instead he responded by saying, "All I ever wanted was a chance."

Still possessing some denial over what had just happened I needed some clarification. "What do you mean?" I said bashfully but with a silent grin. "Let me take you out on Sunday" and I said okay. Though I still felt unsure if we could work, I was in love by the second date, without even so much as a kiss. I'm not bragging, after all it did take us 14 years to get there but it was worth every minute to have my best friend by my side to have and to hold from this day forward.


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Would You...- by Ron Ploeg