Dear Fiance

I’ve realized that it isn’t about forgiving you. For the rest of our lives I am going to forgive you over and over again for things you do, and you will have to forgive me over and over again too, so while forgiving you is important, it isn’t really the point.

What I really needed to realize was, regardless of anything that happened, whether we are still good for each other.

I fell in love with you a long time ago but im not still with you by default because of that. I’m still with you because I choose to be with you, every day that I wake up, every day that we are happy, every day that we have good times and every day that we have tough moments. I choose you over and over again.

I’m choosing you because you make me feel respected and loved and worth loving. I’m choosing you because even though its hard, I know how good we are together and because you bring out my best and I think I bring out your best too. I’m choosing you because you are my best friend.

I never want to stop thriving to be my best, for you.


3 Things I Wish I Knew Before Marriage

I find it so useful to remind myself of the important things, and where my priorities should be. It is far too easy to get tangled up in smaller irrelevant details of life and neglect the bigger picture…

love story from the male perspective

3 Things I Wish I Knew Before We Got Married by Tyler Ward .

I used to think I had my stuff together. Then I got married.

Marriage is great—but it rocked everything I knew. I quickly realized my basic goal in life, prior to getting married, was to simply 3_things_Marriage_RECTremain undisturbed.

This “disruption” came suddenly and was disguised as a 5-foot-nothing Swedish-Filipino woman. When I decided I’d rather not live without her, I proceeded to ask her to marry me—that is, to officially invite someone who wasn’t me to be in my personal space for the rest of my life.

This decision introduced my most significant experiences and most challenging experiences—none of which I would trade for the world.

However, I wish I had a bit more insight on the front end of our marriage to help me navigate it all.

According to most research, more than 50…

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Creative Writing

I was lucky enough in High School to have really good English teachers, especially in my senior years, that made me want to do well in a subject that I already enjoyed and was good at and English quickly became one of my favourite subjects.

Growing up in the country, with no TV or mobile phone reception meant I read. A lot. I had finished the school library and the children’s/teens section of the town library by the time I was 12 (I moved towns shortly after so it wasn’t such a bad thing), and had a reading age of 16, when I was 10.

I have always loved to read, and to write – poetry, stories, essays, fiction, non-fiction, and most recently this blog. I love words, where they come from, what they mean, other languages, and how they all fit together in so many different ways. I love how a word can mean nothing, but if you change your tone of voice, it can mean everything.

So I want to share with you something I wrote, several years ago when I was experiencing a lot of anger over my parents lack of communication and thought in their separation.

Tear Stained Eye

The little girl sat stiffly in her chair. Tiny hands clenched at her sides, making frown like creases in the edges of her new dress. Her blonde ringlets were pulled into matching pink bows and her feet hung in mid-air, cased in small, shining black, leatherette shoes. She was the picture of innocence, a perfect angel until you saw her eyes.

Large blue orbs, the centres filled with a fathomless black, so deep, too dark to belong to a small child. They stared into nothingness, searching for the answers she needed. She blinked, just too late, unable to prevent the small, completely symmetrical tear from flowing down her cheek, pausing as it reached her chin, then slowly falling to land in her lap. Looking down, as if in total surprise, the little girl touched a finger to the damp spot, aimlessly drawing circles, concentration clear on her face.

All signs of discomfort gone, a small smile played at the corner of her lips, and she swung first one foot, then the other. The only sign of absence was her eyes, still staring blankly, in her own little world, seeing nothing, as she struggled with her task.

Two faces loomed out of the dark. That was all she could see. At that point in time, nothing else mattered; the ties between the three of them were inexplicable, twisted, a triangle of love, hate, hope and above all, manipulation.

But she was only seven and these feelings were much too complex for her understanding.  In that moment, all she felt was as if she had a rope tied around each arm, and each face was pulling, pulling… and it hurt! It hurt so badly. An emotional ache. But it didn’t matter, she was only seven and the little girl loved those faces, she didn’t realize it would ever be possible to not. That was her mummy and daddy and she loved them.

That was then. This, however, is now, and that little girl is long gone, buried underneath years of lies, anger and emotional turmoil.

The young woman lay in her bed, her heart pounding. Choices are never easy, she realised, and no matter how much thought, or therapy you put into them they would always come back to haunt you. She didn’t blame herself though, how could she? Whatever decision she had made, there would always be the feeling of guilt, the feeling that she had betrayed someone’s love. She took a breath and vowed to any gods who were listening, she would learn from the mistakes of others. Because, what kind of person would she be, to make a little girl chose between mummy and daddy?

I wrote this long before I met my Fiance, had any notion of becoming a stepmum, or even having children at all. This is where I am coming from – this is my past, and I will do everything in my power to help our Boy have an easier path than I had, one with less struggle and pain. If my experiences can help one boy have a more carefree childhood, one where he doesn’t have to grow up too fast – then that’s good enough for me. I may not be able to change the world, but I sure as hell am going to do my best to change his world.

Explanatory note.

I am not dealing with my anger and conflict well lately, and get worked up easily. I am tired all the time and have trouble concentrating (which is an issue when I am currently trying to attempt a double degree, one of which is Law).

Men, you should stop reading here.

8 months ago, I went to my doctor for a standard check up – we have excellent health services through the university which are covered by our fees, so I thought I might as well make the most of it! In the course of the appointment, the doctor found out the birth control I had been using for the last four years to control my migraines, could potentially have bad side effects, since I get the type of migraines with auras.

At that point, I was a straight A student, with lots of energy, no monthly mood swings, and so much compassion and time for everyone else in my life. It was excellent. If I ever get back to that, I will never take it for granted.

The doctor recommended a different kind of pill, and said it may take a few weeks for my body to readjust and to give it time. Quite happy with this, I started taking the new medication. Well, 12 weeks later, I was tired, moody, my nails were snapping and breaking and I was extremely pale – the reason? I hadn’t stopped bleeding since starting the new pill. Well and truly fed up, I returned to my doctor.

Convinced that I had given that pill my best shot, my doctor recommended a different brand – which was also much more expensive. Also a series of blood tests, which indicated my iron levels were well below the healthy range and I was severely anemic. Unfortunately by this stage, the anemia had taken quite the toll on my social and academic life – I never had the energy to go out, and if I did, it would take days to recover. I would get 12 hours sleep a night, and wake up in the morning so exhausted I almost vomited, and struggled to concentrate in my classes. That semester, my grades dropped to a B- average.

My poor fiance, had no idea how to deal with what I was going through, it’s quite hard to explain to someone that your life is falling to pieces because you are ‘tired’. I had gone from super understanding, thoughtful, caring partner, to super moody bitch.

Oh also? my skin is worse than it was when I went through puberty. Gross.

So I tried the other pill. No luck. Went back to the doctor. In October last year, we decided to go for a Mirena, which basically is an implant into my uterus, which slowly releases the birth control hormone and lasts for 5 years. The side effects – I should stop bleeding entirely. Sounded like heaven.

Like anything, the doctor warned me it may take a while for my body to adjust. Initially I was having light bleeding, which I figured would stop. And it did! Yay! for the first time in 4 months, I WASN’T BLEEDING.

It lasted a week.

Since then, I have lost so much blood. Every day. Non-Stop. Let me tell you, It’s doing wonders for my sex life, not.

I have been taking iron supplements for months, trying to keep up my levels as fast as I am losing it. I certainly don’t feel as bad as I used to, but synthetic iron replacement isn’t quite as good as just not losing it in the first place.

Back to the doctor today. I wanted to tell her to GET THIS THING OUT OF ME. And please god, just let me go back on the pill I was on before.

She starts throwing around phrases like ‘see a specialist’, ‘you need an ultra-sound’, ‘have you got health insurance’, ‘more blood tests’. And no chance of going back to my other pill, by the way, apparently it causes strokes for people like me.

So here’s the deal; for the last 8 months, I’ve been bleeding 80% of the time. I’m exhausted, hormonal and my grades have dropped. Hoping my doctor could help me today, all I get is some medication to stop the bleeding in the short term until we suss out the problem (which also has the side effect of nausea, yay) and some more iron supplements. I have to get my third blood test in six months, I mean, cause who doesn’t love needles? and then sort out insurance claim forms to cover the cost of having an ultra sound (which by the way, doesn’t fix anything, just tells us whether the Mirena is even in the right place). If it’s in the wrong place, we take it out, and start again, and if it’s in the right place, then I’m just special, and it isn’t working – next step, see a specialist. Because I totally have time for that.

I don’t have the energy to focus on any one else except me at the moment. My course load expects about 45 hours a week, I do another 10 hours a week part time work to pay the bills, and then this. I need to be selfish, I need to take care of myself, I can’t deal with anything else right now.

That isn’t too unreasonable – it’s only until I’m healthy again.

Good thing life isn’t that easy then, huh? 😉

Powerless Step-parent – Take Two

So many expletives running through my mind. So much anger, indignation and fury. SO POWERLESS.

Maybe that’s the lesson I am learning, this trip on earth, to handle situations and create calm in amongst the turmoil of something that is so far outside of my control.

My stepson got conjunctivitis last week, poor kid, no fun for anyone! And so contagious of course, he really shouldn’t be at day care. That was Friday. On Sunday he went to the doctor and we find out he also has tonsillitis and ear infections in both ears. The real Tri-Fecta. But when you put that many kids in a melting pot of viruses and each others germs, what can you really expect, it’s Russian roulette and only a matter of time…

My partner immediately asked for the Monday off work – as any parent would do, no WAY should that boy be back in daycare at least until he has finished his antibiotics and his eyes have cleared up. You’d think. Unfortunately work was too busy for him to take off Monday, but my mother in law was able to take the day off and drive over (it’s about an hour) and my partner was able to finish a little earlier than normal – no worries.

Tuesday and Wednesday no drama either, my darling fiance, putting his son first, took a sick day, and another day without pay – but children first, right?

Thursday. The boy is still sick of course, and only half way through his antibiotics, definitely not well enough to go back to daycare. My partner has to go back to work – luckily the Boy has two parents right? You’d think.

My partners Grandparents offered to take him on Thursday while the boys mother was at work, it was only five hours – no trouble. The Boy loooves his great-grandad. And they live 2 minutes from where the Boy lives with his mother. Perfect solution!

Well. I just got this text from my partner. (I live far away while I’m studying, so unfortunately, there isn’t much I can do from here)

“apparently he was fine yesterday and last night and his mother made the call to send him to daycare (side note – without discussing it with my partner) the staff at day care said he was fine today and put himself to bed for a nice sleep”

Unfortunately, I don’t agree with this line of reasoning, so I told my partner that I felt angry that he wasn’t being looked after and indignant that the boys mother hadn’t either taken a day off herself, or left him with the Grandparents. If he is still on antibiotics and his eyes are still showing signs of conjunctivitis, I personally, don’t think he should be at daycare. I said to him, I would rather pay his mother out of my student allowance if she couldn’t afford the day off – I don’t think she is a bad mother, but I don’t agree with this choice at all, not when we have alternatives.

My partners response – “I don’t want to fight about this, I don’t have the energy. I know my son and think it was a bit soon for him to go back to daycare, but why must you put me in a position to fight about it, it’s not the end of the world.”

Well shit.

I told him we would have to agree to disagree and that I didn’t want to talk about it any more because I didn’t want to fight with him about it, I’m tired, have my own health issues, as well as trying to keep up with doing two degrees at the same time.

What am I supposed to do? Am I over reacting? I know I am exhausted from my own stuff and don’t have the same amount of clarity as usual, but still, what am I supposed to do with all the emotions…

All I want, is for that poor little Boy to have the chance for his immune system to recover. Is that so wrong?

My partner is accusing me of making him feel like a bad parent. Way to turn the whole situation around on me. We have so many options available so the Boy doesn’t have to be at daycare while he is unwell, we are so lucky there is family that close, even if he seems better, I can’t help but feel like that extra day would have done wonders helping his immune system get back on track.

I feel better for having had this vent.

The F Word…

The F Word...

Fiance. Friends. Family. Fiance’s Family. Fun.

I did promise myself I would capture the important moments, that the entire point of this blog was to remember those passing flashes of time.

The night we squeezed our closest friends and family into our tiny lounge and they all danced and danced and danced. These are the memories I will hold for ever. These are the people who are dancing through my heart.

…The state of the carpet the next morning did make me think of a different kind of F word.