I am a nice person. Really, ridiculously nice to the point of getting myself walked all over. I took a lot of shit before I got mad enough to write this letter on February 13th, 2014. I have stayed true to my word and not responded to anything since then but I have gotten emails as recently as Dec 26th and a text on January 22nd, 2015. I can ask the RCMP to tell him to stop but I risk pushing him over whatever ledge he is on that makes him think this is ok. It is not ok, it is harassment. I handled every aspect of this relationship with honesty and respect. I didn’t deserve what he did and I don’t deserve to be reminded of it every time he feels like it.

“Ok, enough is enough.

The night that you took naked pictures of me without my permission I planned to destroy every trace of you from my life and never speak to you again.

I gave myself time to calm down and tried to be forgiving. I tried to be friends and give things between us some time but I still found it all very painful and asked for some space.

Instead of respecting my need to take a step back and get my life in order you have hounded me relentlessly.

Your texts and emails have ranged from sweet and caring to intimidating and rude. I have gotten drunk texts in the middle of the night. I have been told that “it would be in my best interest” to meet you within a certain time frame. You have said that you were going to give me space and then continued to send multiple texts daily.
At this point I am telling you 100% to leave me alone. No more texts, emails, phone calls and most definitely do not ever come to my house.

You chose to make yourself a source of stress in my life so now this relationship is over on all levels. No matter how “childish” you may think it is, you won’t be hearing from me again.”


Wow! It has been almost a year and this is my eighth post. I am rocking this blogging thing like no one’s business! Really though, it has been a big year. I have been busy being psycho stalked, falling in love, being cheated on all while trying to run a business and a house on my own and keep up with my two daughters. You know, life. I have learned a lot about myself through it all and one of the things I learned is how much I need to write this damn blog. I have a million thoughts each day that I want to record and I need to start catching at least a few.

Flesh Baby

A dream house on an island

Cottages scattered about



A shop and the sun

Something fun to dream……

But big plans don’t compare

To a flesh baby’s hands

Stroking my skin

The tingle left by 



My personal war

Trust or don’t



I was getting good at being

On my own

Had found confidence

A little strength

Some light


How quickly I give it up

For strong arms

Soft touch

The chance to come home.

Textie with Bestie

***A girl at a party tells me that my lifelong crush is a douche who lies all the time***

Bestie: But maybe she said that because she’s jaded.

Me: I dunno, maybe he seems so dumb because he is trying to keep his stories straight.

Bestie: Maybe. I can’t see why you couldn’t use him then lose him

Me: Bahaha! Play along and then just stop answering him.

Bestie: Yup. After you get what you want. He’d do it if he was a douche, right? Gender equality.

Me: I’m not sure that’s what the suffragists had in mind.

Bestie: They weren’t thinking big enough.

Me: K, I am sitting alone in my house right now laughing my ass off. I fucking love you. This is exactly why I run all life decisions by you. Perspective.

Bestie: Just make sure you stomp on his heart before he stomps on yours. Then say “well at least I got in your pants douche bag.” But I hope he’s just misunderstood looking for true love.