Here we go being born again and again and again. Isn’t that inner work…the art of transformation? I was dating this guy and broke up with him once. He checked out after we had sex. Checked out as in, not a text, a loooonnnnnggg ass time before our next date, and absolute withdrawal. He apologized… Continue reading Merry Bitchmas, Happy New Bitch
Some things you don’t want to do over but because of life circumstance, you have to. Yet again, in a stellar instance of “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh”- Lord fucktard, that is- my agency over my life was reduced. I am yet again forced to subjugate myself for an abuser. It’s like having… Continue reading Do overs
Narcissists evoke our anger and ire. Why? Because they refuse to enter into relationship with us. They place themselves high above and so oppress. This oppression leads to abuse, and in my case, the family court is used as a proxy of abuse. Am I unreasonable and therefore need the intervention of the court into… Continue reading The left hand
I divorced a narcissist, went through family court hell, had to undergo a successful transference of my meager resources to a man who already had more than enough (since Mommy Millionaire loves to infantilize her grown son and keep him Married to Mom) AND ALL I GOT WAS A COOKIE! I am not even kidding.… Continue reading Fuck-You Cookies
Who knows what was in the tiny, nearly imperceptible heart of Projection-Zilla the day she left Fucktardia. Surely it was some primal, ancient urge that caused her to actually feel some of the pain she’d caused her scapegoat. This pain was unacceptable to her as she stood primping in the mirror, and later arrived late,… Continue reading In Which Projection-Zilla Leaves Fucktardia
It’s 2017. Women continue to face the paradoxes of gender oppression. We can be CEO of a company on one continent and victims of genital mutilation on another. We’ve come a long way baby yet I sit and listen to a woman who just gave birth talk about not having custody of her other children… Continue reading WHY MUST A MAN BRING ME COFFEE?
The threads of our lives really are like webs. When one is traumatized in childhood, one does not gather memories along those threads to weave into your life. One gathers terrors, and fears, and triggers. One gathers sense impressions that are indelibly marked into your biology and that you must work to extricate, to bring… Continue reading Size Does Matter