I saw a champion today.....

Well they may or may not have been a champion but if they're not they should be.

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I was taking a leisurely stroll in town on my way to take back 2 pairs of trousers that just didn't fit and there she was. She was at the same school as me although is actually a couple of years older. She was never the most attractive girl but always seemed fairly nice, but my goodness in the years since we left school I never realised how she had changed.

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No she hasn't done the ugly duckling to swan transformation, she has in fact become a gurner.

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I am no oil painting and some of the candid photos of me are too horrible to describe but this was something altogether too bizarre not to mention. She walked along with who I can only assume was a relative (obviously the remarkable talent runs in the family) I hate to say it but I couldn't stop looking, they were chatting and she was gurning, quite animatedly without even realising it a strange but addictive talent to watch. I'd liken it to car crash TV.

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Well I say good on her, she is confident, bubbly and a classy gurner if ever I've seen one.

Have I been Gaslighted?

I recently read an online article that made me ask the question; Have I been gaslighted ?

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Right now I am in the early stages of a divorce so it immediately spoke to me. Yes! I almost screamed, this is exactly what has happened to me.

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Granted, I am currently in the 'it's all his fault' stage of things and yes I have been thinking about putting a dead fish somewhere in his car or possibly spreading rumors on his prowess or lack of it in the bedroom.

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But when I read this article it spoke to me.

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I realised that there were two people responsible for the failure of a marriage. After all my ex fell in love with me how I was then yet I seem to have spent the last seven years moulding myself into what I believed he wanted me to be. I stopped listening to music that I liked or stopped eating certain foods all because I thought it would make our life easier/better.

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He was a 'gaslighter', the one who needed to be right in every aspect. Apparently this makes them feel empowered and gives them a sense of self.

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I have been the 'gaslightee', this means that I have allowed someone else to define my reality because I crave approval.

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What struck me most about the article was the fact that it explained how this is not restricted to spousal relationships it can be in any relationship. Employer/employee, Mother/Daughter. To my horror I found myself analysing all the relationships in my life.

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I have now decided that self analysis is not that much fun and my opinion is that I shouldn't do it, I refuse to be a 'gaslightee' any longer.

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What do you think? Am I right?

Who am I?

So I have deleted all my previous posts, not that many people will notice as there was only ever one person who looked at this blog and that was my ever supportive brother.

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The truth is that I am struggling to figure out what and who I am at the moment. There are times when I'm alone that I notice the little things I don't do. And there are a lot of little things that I don't do.

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I cannot think of how to put my thoughts into words I want to ask for help but I don't know what I need help with or how to ask. I only know that sometimes the words come of their own volition and they make little to no sense to anyone other that me.

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Today the words came and I would like to share them with you, an anonymous reader.

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The Boy Of Colours

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In the morning I looked at the sky and the colours inspired my voice, but rain began to fall and the colours ran.

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Everything becomes grey when the rain falls.

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All colour is lost to me, all colour except the colour of the boy. He walks the path of my heart and it is the boy of colours who inspires my heart even when the colours fade and my voice grows quiet.

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Words fail me now, I am quiet. I don't know what to say, what to write and the only music I hear is conquered by separation.

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My canvas is roughened and tautened. My nature is to nurture disappointment and the relegation of joy to memories is often done without realisation.

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And then my edges are smoothed, words whispered only to me gentle my soul and I remember why I breath.

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I breath because life is a story and mine is still being written.

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Those whispered words retain colour in the rain as the boy of colours walks the light. I gave him life and with his whispered words and smile of sun he returns the gift, giving life to me.

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In the colour I nurture love and I know that when I am ready my words will come and my voice will sound.

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And I love him truly, my little boy of colours.