Where Things Stand, For Me, Right Now:

I chose the title of this blog post to catch you up on what's been going on in my life because I haven't been blogging for a few months, but I'm also using it as a reference to my current leg injuries, that I'm trying to recover from, for the last couple of weeks or so now. I'm frustrated by being sidelined in some ways, with that, because I was so productive lately, getting through my lengthy 'To Do List'

in a much faster and more fulfilling way, than I had been doing for quite awhile. Not blogging was one of the biggest reasons that happened because all of those hours, over several days, it, usually, takes me to write most of these posts, was freed up to use toward achieving that goal instead. Being able to focus on these other things that are also important to me was a wonderful feeling, reducing my stress more as each task was checked off my list as being "done" finally. I made some real progress but I still have more to do, that I can't do currently, because those are the very things that led to injuring both my legs. My left leg is healing much faster than the right one. I was on my knees, for prolonged periods, to do  the big project that was still on my list. It was coming together well! I was close  to finally being finished with it, until I had to stop-- for now at least-- because of both my legs swelling up from my knees all the way through both my feet. It has affected what I can do and not do to some extent although thankfully (especially since, I live alone, and must be able to be autonomous, to care for myself) I am able to bear weight on both legs, as well as sit and stand. My left leg appears to  be improving but I have had little-to-no improvement of my right leg so far. It is the more swollen of the two, and the only one with any pain, due to the injuries.

Everything about having good health has taken on much more importance to me as I have gotten older. My concerns are compounded by the fact that if I lose my ability to be independent everything else that matters most to me will be deeply, and possibly permanently, affected by that. Young people can, usually, take their good health for granted, but as we age, that often changes, significantly. When I was in my early twenties, I recall feeling so bored, because of life being so much of 'the same old same old' almost all the time. As I got older, and, also, because, so many things on this earth seem to be becoming more unstable and uncertain,  I've realized that being bored is a true luxury, which far too many people on this planet don't ever have any ability to experience in their lives, at all, due to being  in war zones, or in areas of famine, flood, or fire, and so many other really scary scenarios. I have truly been blessed, so far, to have lived for more than 68 years on earth and be in the, general, circumstances in which I've almost always found myself. Even though I've gone through some truly traumatizing things in my life, as well as some deeply heartbreaking ones, I have never had enemy tanks on my street, or missiles flying overhead my home. I have gone hungry, at times, but it was never due to an inescapable famine in the country that I live in. I have been raped, but I have never had my female parts mutilated by misogynists. As I type this, the entire planet is feeling anxious, because of so much going on that we all wish wouldn't be. Life, is so fragile, and fleeting, and precarious, and precious! It amazes and appalls me how carelessly and callously many people choose to treat this gift of life, whether their own or the lives of others. We're all just one breath, or one heartbeat, away from no longer existing on the earth, and so many things, and far too many people, can take that privilege from us, or from our loved ones. 

Even with all the blessings, that I have had, in my life, by the time I came to live here I was more than a little the worse for wear, and was feeling fairly exhausted from everything that I have been (put) through and from the impact of people on me, who-- in whatever way(s), and for whatever reason(s)-- haven't had my best interests at heart, and who probably didn't treat me the way, they, would want to be treated, if things between us had been reversed. When all of the bull crap and the heartbreak that I have been through here happened to me, on top of all that, it almost cost me my life, by being 'the final straw', breaking me. The struggle to not commit suicide was real, and it truly frightened me, because I deeply cherish the gift of life, and try hard to take care of my health and such, to, hopefully, live  a long life. That was about a year ago, that I had to struggle mightily, to not give in to those thoughts of self-destruction. I almost didn't make it through that, and  it really took a toll on me. Until I moved here, I had never really experienced the  bullying that leads people to commit suicide. When I would see news stories, and read articles, about people going through this, I used to wonder, how words from other people could cause anyone to despair of living. I couldn't imagine that. I've just gotten tears in my eyes, typing this, now, because what I am about to say is that, NOW I KNOW, because, people here, have put me through that. My eyes are filled to the brim with tears now, because of the sadness, and the anger, I feel, at being mistreated this way. They couldn't possibly have any good reason for doing this to me, but that hasn't stopped them; and these are grown adults in their 50s, 60s, 70s, and even 80s. Their behavior deeply disgusts me. Especially when it has come from the, supposedly, 'devout' Christians, that should know better-- and, do better. The fact that they have been the 'leaders' of this movement, to disrespect, and discredit, me, has made it even more painful for me, because they know that  I am also a Christian. This community could have been something truly special for everyone here, but they, chose, to interject this toxicity into the lives of residents here, and it can't be undone now. The damage has been done. Not only to me but to others they targeted as well-- some of whom moved away to escape it and how bad it made them feel. Others moved away who weren't targeted, but didn't like it being such a prominent part of life here, and its effect on the, social, atmosphere.

I just looked at myself in the mirror, and I look, tired, pale, and, noticeably, older, than when I moved here full of excitement at, finally, having this miracle happen, for me, of owning my own home. From my very first day here, the main leader of the clique, also the main instigator, of people treating me badly, from, ostracizing me, to defaming me by outright lies, has disrupted and destroyed my privacy and my peace. It can never be undone-- all the damage that has caused to my life, in this community, by affecting and undermining my initial opportunities for healthy, happy, relationships, with the residents, and staff-- causing me to continually feel ill-at-ease and uncertain, as to what the people that I am interacting with actually believe about me, from all the gossip and untruths told about me, by these clique members, and others, as it spread. I am deeply angry about it. There is no way I will ever choose to be friends with these people who have done this to me. It told me all I need or want to know about their own character. After receiving advice to practice 'Radical Acceptance'* of them, though, for my own sake, I recently began trying to at least act 'neighborly' when I encounter them by being willing to speak to them as I pass by. It is one of the hardest things I have ever even attempted. I don't like them!-- for how they treated me-- and I don't trust them enough to feel safe being vulnerable, around, or with, them.  My main coping mechanism for how I deal with people who mistreat me has always been to, shut down, and withdraw.

I honestly didn't think that I could even attempt to 'accept' these people. This is a very small community though that seems to very often be mainly fueled by gossip

wearing the more pious mask of concern. Maybe, I am just being cynical, to put it that way, but my instincts say that I am right about this-- especially regarding the clique members-- because, if I weren't, how does one explain how these Christian people (that many, but not all, of the clique claim to be) never showed me a bit of 'godly' concern, while they were defaming me, to anyone and everyone they tried to recruit into the clique, against me? Especially the 'leaders', who knew that I am a Christian 'sister in the Lord', and that I had chosen to show them grace and care even after they started disrespecting me, in the beginning, to demonstrate that to them. What they said about me was so over-the-top, and so hateful, that the time came when my normal reaction, to such treatment, to just avoid them, altogether, as much as possible, became how I coped. I disliked them, to the point that, even the sight of them, filled me with resentment, rage, and other unhealthy emotions, boiling inside of me, continually. It was affecting my health, and well-being, while they lived their lives happily because this wasn't being done to them but by them. For my own sake, I had to try to accept that this is who these people are. I'm not even the only resident that they did this type of crap to. I'm just the main target.

Because it is not based on my liking these people (because I don't) but on simply accepting that, they are who they are, and it is what it is, I had to, really, grapple with making the conscious choice to even say "Hi" to them. It took everything, in me, but I did start doing that, this past week. Someone who knew I considered it asked me if I felt better, now that I had started to at least be social, toward them, and I replied, no, I do not feel any better. Only my outward behavior changed. Not my feelings about, all, the ways and times, throughout, my years living here, they have openly shown me disrespect and even outright hostility. They made a choice. There are consequences, for choices that we make in this life. Including, for them.

 

The only thing concerning me, about my being willing to treat them civilly, now, is that they will misperceive my actions, as somehow accepting that, what they have done, is 'okay' with me, when nothing could be further from the truth. I choose to try to be nice toward almost everyone, as much as possible, but unfortunately, it's often taken as 'weakness' or 'stupidity' by people that can't comprehend the great strength (including strength of character) that it takes for me to do that, at times.

So, that is something new that I am trying (without, much desire, or enthusiasm) to accomplish-- for my own sake. Disliking them, as much as I do, was eating me up inside. My focus, and concern, are for my own health and well-being. If God is going to accomplish anything else, in this situation, He is going to have to do it. I acknowledge that He can; especially, since my change in behavior has opened up  a door, for Him to work through. But, I can tell you, it would take, a true miracle!

Some significant things, have happened to me, here, which I consider to be true miracles. God finally blessed me with a home of my very own-- which was, truly, impossible, when I started crying out to Him about my needing this, for my soul.  But, I saw the circumstances, and timing, coming together, in such a way that, it could only be Him bringing this to be. That fact has comforted me a lot, including as I struggled with being suicidal last Spring. While I have often felt undermined, by all the gossip here, I cling, tenaciously, to what I know to be true and of good report**, from the Lord, who is, Himself, Truth. Romans 8:28 is the banner Bible verse over me: "And we know that  God causes everything  to work together  for the  good  of  those  who  love  God  and  are called according to His purpose for them." (NLT) While I see some of the miracles that He has done for me, with my own eyes, others are things that He has done in my heart. That shows me that I can have my heart changed, by Him,-- including, how I feel toward people, if He so chooses. It is not always possible to fathom all the ways, and means, that are the catalysts for change in our lives. Some seem sent by God, but, others, more like some Special Delivery from the Devil himself. In the end, though, God is the one who causes everything to work together for our good-- even the things that, seem to us to be, so bad, especially as we are in the midst of experiencing them.

I have often cried out to God for a 'special someone', to love, and be loved by, in my life. That still has never come together for me, but there are times that I feel that, all things considered, where men are concerned, God is trying to spare me, from, more, of the aggravation, and angst, that men seem to bring into my life. I have such a deep capacity for love. Most, humans, never get to see that, though, because they usually don't inspire, or awaken that, in my heart. I have learned to be very circumspect, and cautious, where other human beings are concerned, due to being handled so carelessly and coldly by so many of them, throughout my life.

I have been significantly let down (an understatement!) by so many people, in so  many ways. I am generally extremely wary of other human beings, which, makes it very difficult for one of them to get into my heart. That is a sacred space, to be sure. Very few people have been able to do it, and probably have no idea, what a compliment, that is, to them, when they do. I've dated countless men. I was also married, several, times, before I, finally, realized, in my thirties, that I do not like marriage, and I have stayed single ever since. Yet there have only been two men  in my entire life, so far, who completely captured my heart. The tragedy of that is neither one of them even wanted it. As I stare at that sentence, I shake my head, trying to make sense of that. The odds should have been in my favor, that, out of all the men, I have known in my life, ONE, would have been my soul mate. When  I was working as a dancer I talked to thousands of men in those nightclubs, and I even married two of them from there, but I didn't really love either one of them. I just tried (and failed) to make the best of a bad situation. The first man that ever actually captured my heart (and then threw it back) was my second husband Jim; my son's father. My heart was solidly stuck on him. I couldn't get over loving him, no matter how hard I tried. In the meantime, he married a wonderful woman, as his second wife, and they've had a very good marriage, together, all these years. 

The only other man, that my heart ever truly loved, was not even trying to get in my heart, and I don't think that either one of us saw that coming, or were happy about it, at all. All I got was the worst heartbreak of my life, and the unexpected gift that, he was able to finally bump Jim out of where he had been lodged in my heart without budging for so many years. That, amazed me, because no one had ever been anywhere near able to do that, and this man did it without trying to! I suffered, enormously, trying to get over the man, that 'cured me' of loving Jim. I  was finally able to kill the butterflies and stop the weak knees he caused, and get free of the torment of that, by allowing myself to feel the anger, in me, at how he disrespected me and humiliated me as his way of reacting to the unwelcome and unwanted feelings that I had for him. He was an expert exterminator of my love. My heart's finally free of deeply loving any man now, which I consider to be a gift to me, because I am fully open to finding my person now, if God made a man for me. Maybe that old expression, "The third time's the charm", will be true for me, where love is concerned! I, finally, feel excited, about the possibilities, instead of feeling stuck loving either one of the two men that, for their own reasons, didn't want me. This is one of the main reasons that I stopped blogging, the end of last year, until I resumed it, now. Sitting here writing this is not getting me outside in the fresh air and sunshine, and isn't helping me meet someone who might be my soul mate, before I run out of time to ever have them in my life if I do find them. 

Right before I decided to attempt the 'Radical Acceptance' regarding my situation here, I felt the toxic impact of living surrounded by clique members so strongly, I didn't think it would be good for my holistic health to continue to live like this. For a very brief moment in time, I seriously leaned toward leaving, but God reminded me what He did for me, to bring me here, and give me my home, and that Satan comes to steal, kill, and destroy (John 10:10), which is what I've been up against here, because, it IS such a GREAT BLESSING, from GOD, for me. Acts 2:28 (NLT) says, "You have shown me the way of life, and you will fill me with the joy of your presence." I have often told God that, I trust Him, because, I can take Him at His Word. He DID bring me here, and He DID give me my home, that brings me such joy every day. I just have to keep on trusting Him, to work out all the other stuff.

I am trying to get past all that. I would so much rather have a positive report, to share with you, such as the 'Radical Acceptance' bringing something about that's better for us all. This could be such a great place, for ALL of us to be, if this kind  of petty crap was stopped, once and for all, and everyone made a genuine effort  to behave better toward one another. God does miracles, so there's always hope! 

I have been delayed in getting the last few things of my 'To Do List' done, while I try to heal my two legs. Since, working on those projects led to these injuries, in the first place, I don't think I should do anymore of them, unless and until all the swelling and tenderness goes down. This frustrating setback is keeping me home right now, preventing my getting out there to meet new people beyond this small community which, I hope, will lead to my, finally, finding true love, at some point! If you pray, please pray for my health and healing, and that I find the RIGHT guy to CAPTURE MY HEART, next time I fall in love. When I pray about it, I tell God, I  hope, whoever he is, will have similar attributes to the only two men I have ever truly loved, but maybe not the same faults (even though everybody has some). I  did not feel respected by either one of the men I loved, and that is a pet peeve of mine. At the very least, I hope the man for me will love music, love to dance, and make me laugh! I also hope they will be honest with me because I hate being lied to. I don't see how anyone can truly love someone that doesn't respect them, and that is not honest with them. Sexual attraction, however strong, only goes so far.

If this healing of my legs takes a long time, I might not have much of anything to  share with you here next month, because of being so curtailed and constrained by it. It is so frustrating, because I truly thought I would already be totally done with the long 'To Do List', finally, and fixing myself up, and getting out of the house, to go explore, and enjoy some of my hobbies such as photography and drawing, and hopefully meet some fun people to become friends with, and maybe my Mr. Right!

(If I do meet 'my guy', there are going to be some, private, things that I won't be sharing, here, of course, because I don't want him to resent my being a blogger!)   

* Radical Acceptance: "At its most basic, radical acceptance is a practice that involves accepting emotions, thoughts and circumstances that are unchangeable and out of your control. To radically accept means to completely recognize and accept the reality you’re in—even when that reality includes pain or discomfort. Regularly practicing radical acceptance can help us cope with painful emotions so we can move on or even come up with a plan to make an uncomfortable situation better." - Nicole McDermott https://www.forbes.com/health/mind/what-is-radical-acceptance/#:~:text=At%20its%20most%20basic%2C%20radical,reality%20includes%20pain%20or%20discomfort.

** "Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things." - Philippians 4:8 (King James Bible)

I'm Torn Between Showing Grace Or Fury

As a Christian I am called to forgive others. The Bible even 'strongly encourages' that I do that, by saying, "But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins." (Matthew 6:15 NIV) God knows (literally!) that I have committed my share of sins. That being said though, I think that everyone tends to give more weight to the transgressions of others, while 'grading' their own 'on the curve', so to speak. We can explain our own, justifying them, to ourselves at least. The fact remains, however, that the Bible also says, in Romans 3:23 (NIV), "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God". Every person on the planet is  a sinner, whether we acknowledge, or admit, that, or not. The human 'disease' of being infected by Original Sin and then becoming further tainted by our own sins causes a depravity in our souls that causes us not to care, or not to care enough,  if we sin, which almost always affects other people, besides making our own lives worse in some ways. Sin can infect a rational mind and make it have crazy ideas. 

I empathize with the Apostle Paul who wrote of this very struggle (Romans 7:18), "I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out." (ESV) I truly love the Lord, however it is EXTREMELY difficult for me to forgive, or even WANT to forgive, the sins that others have done toward me (either by commission or omission), which have hurt me deeply, damaged me, traumatized me, scarred me, broken me and alot of other things which have left me 'the worse for wear' (an understatement).

I am caught between the fury I feel toward them for hurting me when I don't feel that I deserved that from them and the grace God calls me to extend to them, in spite of their wronging me, even in some extreme ways. My default position is to cut these people out of my life. It has, finally, dawned on me, late in life, that if I throw everyone who is a sinner out of my life to (try to) prevent their causing me more pain than they already have, there won't be anybody left at all, to have any relationship with! To (try to) spare myself more heartbreak at the hands of these people, I have become more and more isolated in life. Humans, are social beings. Therefore, despite, protecting myself from more pain, I am not living my best life.

To my credit (because of all I've been put through by people in my life), I usually 

do try to extend grace instead of unleashing my fury on them for wronging me in some way. Rather than this making the relationships better, when I do this (as a, generous, gift, to them) it seems to somehow cause them to think that I am just passively accepting their bad behaviors, toward me, when that is not the case, at all. The advice to 'be the bigger person' has never worked well, for me. It causes people to think that, I am a pushover, a weak person, with no boundaries for the way that I will allow others to behave toward me (due to my having self respect).

I seem to often end up getting taken advantage of, mistreated even more, looked down on, thought of as stupid, and disrespected, when I 'turn the other cheek' to people who are not treating me well. It also has not helped when I have used the coping and communication tools that counselors have advised me to do, over the years, either. One example among many is the breakdown in the relationship with my sister. Ascent Through The Dark Night Of The Soul: My Life Reflections: 'Bossy Bitch' is NOT a LOVE LANGUAGE. is my blog post about her. There is much more I could say about how she chose to treat me over the years. Because she had been my favorite family member, as we grew up, I had hoped she would not get sucked into all of the family dysfunction, that had cast me as family 'scapegoat' because I was the one who wanted us all to be honest about the toxic behaviors going on in that house. I knew it was damaging to me, in some profound ways, and I had felt protective toward her, as well, because of it; until she sadly started to show signs of ostracizing me too. It is the scapegoat who is isolated in this toxic family scene.

I could have been bitter about how I was treated by these people who were family by blood, but when I finally went No Contact and stayed that way, for 15 years, to try to protect myself from the damaging, and destructive, ways that I was treated by them, I still replied to her email that came out of the blue, after all that time. I could not help but notice that she had, clearly, had my email address all along but had not used it to communicate with me, until she needed my help, now. She was telling me in it that our mother was injured and ill, after a fall, and soon after that email, from her, came the one saying that, our mother had passed away. She, was the executor, of our mother's will, and over the next many months she needed my full cooperation to accomplish all of the things that were required in the settling of our mother's estate. I graciously provided that support for, and assistance to, her, the whole way through, to the best of my ability, considering that, Covid was new on the scene, the world over, and I was terrified of it. I even moved, much closer, to the family, after that, but I felt that the only relationship with my relatives that showed any promise was with her. She helped, to get the truck unloaded, but was quite surprisingly, to me, extremely bossy toward me immediately afterward; in a very loud voice, outdoors, in earshot of the other residents of this community that I had just moved halfway across the country to live in. It was not any 'older sister syndrome', because I am the oldest daughter, and she is the youngest member of the family and about 6 years younger than I am. She is a Scorpio though, which I believe explains some of it, although that doesn't excuse it. Somewhere along the way she began to, also, have the, narcissistic, traits of our mother. Narcissists are extremely dangerous for my well-being. They are the ONE THING on the planet, I have learned the hard way, can, absolutely, dangerously, DECIMATE me. In effect they are my kryptonite (something that can seriously weaken or harm someone). 

When counselors gave me advice, about how to deal with difficult people that are even, potentially, deadly, for me to deal with, in some situations, because of their extremely negative impact on my mental, emotional, and even physical health, it apparently did not take into account that the person, or persons, that I would use that advice on, would not simply comply with it, because I hoped to have a better relationship with them without me being victimized, by their dysfunction (or, sin).  I was told that setting strong boundaries with people by my communicating how I will or will not allow them to behave toward me would create happier relationships for me. At the very least, healthier ones. I do not want dysfunctional, destructive, relationships with anyone! It is clear we have no control over how people treat us or react to us, however, which leaves me with the dilemma of how to have happy relationships with people, if they are set on treating me disrespectfully, and such.

When I seem to be left with no choice but to end relationships with others who by their own choosing are not treating me well I don't see any way to prevent a total cessation of the interactions between us, that are causing me damage or distress. I am showing self-respect by standing my ground in the face of such treatment. I was blindsided and, totally, taken aback, when my sister Pam, suddenly, began to act that way, toward me, out of nowhere. I was both horrified and hurt. I kept my own voice even, though, as I said to her, in a very firm, and direct, way, "DO NOT DISRESPECT ME. I WILL NOT ALLOW IT." When she returned for a second visit to my new home 3 weeks later she was not here for more than a few minutes before I sensed that, she had come in already having an attitude, of hostility, toward me.

Not long after that she stood up, and screamed at me, before leaving my home in a huff, because she wasn't happy that I was describing to her how, unfortunately, right I had been, about the nosey neighbor down the street, who, ruined, my first week in my new community, by trying to boss me around, from my first day here. That woman, was so oppressively overbearing that she singlehandedly caused me to think that I had made a huge mistake moving here, which left me in tears, as I struggled to feel excited and happy about this move despite how horrible she was.

My sister had noted herself, the day that I moved in, how frequently this neighbor interfered with her unloading the truck even though it had no direct impact on her own home or property, which was down the street, and on the other side. She had nevertheless advised me not to assert my rightful boundaries, with this person, in order to 'go along, to get along' with her, which went against everything, years, of counseling, had taught me to do in such a situation. That advice did nothing at all to prevent this overbearing stranger from making my life miserable, from my first day here. I truly feel that, some situations cannot be reconciled or redeemed with other people because of how they have chosen to act in regard to me. Seeing that my sister's advice only encouraged this woman to become completely invasive, in my private life, which was unacceptable to me, I chose to go with the counselors' advice, to politely, but firmly, state clear boundaries which worked better for what I needed my life to be like, in order for it to be, as healthy and happy as possible.

That did not work with this woman, at all, either, because even when she actually acknowledged to me that she knew she was invading my space too much, she did not seem to have the self control to stop herself, from doing that, to me. She is a very controlling person. That trait in people seems to be their 'Go To' behavior, to bolster their own self-esteem, but that is at the expense of others like me who do not want or need them bossing us around. I'm in my SIXTIES and I don't need it!

  

I think it touched a nerve in my sister because of her being so bossy herself but it did not justify her creating, two, over-the-top, scenes, in her only two visits to my new home. She left me with no choice but to back away again, from a relationship with her, because I had drawn a counselor-advised 'line in the sand' clearly stating to her that she must not show me disrespect, in a relationship with me, and in my own home. When I stated that, very clearly, during her first visit, yet, she CHOSE, to treat me that way again, the only path forward for us would have had to be her changing her ways and making amends for that bad behavior, which she didn't do.

 

I had wanted us to have a, mutually, enjoyable relationship, with one another. But I was not going to be mistreated by her (or, anyone else), and still be expected to maintain a relationship with them, when they chose to, repeatedly, disrespect me. I had made my position perfectly clear, to her, and she 'acted out' in defiance of it.

No other outcome would have been possible, based on how she chose to treat me.

 

That doesn't mean that I don't love my sister, because I do. It also doesn't mean I do not mourn what, I had hoped, we could build together, as our relationship, that we could and would BOTH enjoy. I had measured the guest room of my new home to make sure that, a new, comfortable, bed, that I bought, would fit the space, for both her and my brother-in-law to come often, and enjoy as a second home away from home. I had referred to it as 'her room'. I daydreamed about decorating the Christmas tree, together, each Holiday Season, and making homemade soup, and cookies, for their arrival. All that was shattered when my sister chose to make me feel like I had to walk on eggs IN MY OWN HOME, and MADE ME CRINGE, because of her sudden and uncalled for outbursts that were clearly meant to get me to 'fall in line' with whatever her wishes were in order to allow her to exercise COMPLETE CONTROL of the situation and narrative. It was neither healthy nor happy, for me.

So, how do I 'turn the other cheek', and show grace to people, when my doing so seems to give them permission (in their minds) to mistreat me, with a willfulness that is at my expense? Not many people have ever seen the extent of my temper, but when I have had it with peoples' shit and decide there is nothing to be gained by 'stuffing' my anger, anymore, and I unleash it for them to see, some have said that it truly shocked (and, at times, even scared) them, because, I am so benign-seeming, for the most part. I do prefer to be respectful toward others, but I don't always get that treatment in return. I, usually, stay calm in my interactions, even then, but when someone takes that as being permission to openly disrespect me,  I start to feel a, smoldering, and sometimes, even seething, fury, within me, that can finally, openly, manifest itself if I get pushed too hard, or too far, to hold it in, anymore. It is a frustrating fact for me that, people seem to take my niceness for weakness. That is a BIG MISCALCULATION on their part. I'm capable of becoming as cold as ice, toward someone, if they take advantage of my, usual, good nature and my, normally, gentle spirit. I'm caring and supportive, but I am also nobody's doormat, and I start to seethe with rage whenever anybody tries to harm me, my well-being, my reputation, or my relationships. There is no excuse, for that. I end up, paying the price, for that, and I didn't deserve to be treated that way at all. If people are being honest with themselves, they know that I haven't done anything to deserve to be mistreated, or disrespected, by them, because I, sincerely, try to treat people well, or at the very least, respectfully; unless or until, they give me a good reason not to. Even then, I, typically, just try to avoid them, at all costs, if at all possible, rather than continue to be exposed to their bad behaviors toward me. I wish no one any harm but I also, definitely, do not want them harming me at all.

For me, this often means dismissing the people, from my life, who insult my soul.

I seem to always get the blame, for others' bad behavior, some way, or other. It is no wonder that human beings are the least enjoyable aspect of my life on earth. I would rather do almost anything than have to interact with another person, alot of the time. It is often so anxiety-producing for me, because I am always anticipating 'the other shoe to drop', or 'the shit to hit the fan' because I chose to optimistically open myself up to risk a relationship, of any kind, with another person. Interacting with other people has often been a huge disappointment, for me. They seem to be draining, to deal with, instead of, a source of nurturance, for my soul. Due to that, I live my life, mostly, isolated, trying to, cut my losses, and heal my wounds, from my encounters with other human beings. They, almost never, leave me, better off, than I was before I took what feels like a HUGE RISK, to me, to open myself up to them. The risk-reward, of my doing this, has not encouraged me to do much of it.

I have to 'feel up to' dealing with other people, to even, try it, at this point. They tend to leave me in worse shape, than I was before I interacted with them, as in, more anxious, more hurt, more traumatized, more angry.... Not everyone puts a detrimental dent in my soul, but so many have, over the course of my life, that I am way past 'gun shy', at this point. Sadly, I assume, from the outset, that most people are going to be some sort of PROBLEM for me, if I OPEN UP TO THEM, and it usually turns out to be that way, sooner or later. I RARELY have relationships, I feel 'SAFE' in; as in, I can fully trust the other person, enough, to really let down my guard with them. The few people, I DO have this with, are so precious to me! 

I know that what I am saying here can make it seem that I simply want to justify my not showing people grace, but I truly do start out showing grace to people, in almost every situation or circumstance, because I actually have a strong aversion to any conflict or confrontation with other people. That being said, I draw the line without hesitation, if, or when, they begin to mistreat me; to put a stop to that. I tend to simply avoid them altogether at that point, though, rather than engage in some scene, that I feel will not help things, and worse, may provoke me to finally lose my temper at them, if only because of my 'righteous indignation' at the ways they are either misunderstanding or misinterpreting my actions; and are doing so in such a way that it doesn't really reflect the truth of the matter or my heart in it.

When they ascribe certain actions or behaviors to me that I am not even doing, to blame me for the situation, it not only frustrates me, it angers me. Sometimes it's to deflect the blame from themselves, also, which adds insult to injury. When they gossip about me, spreading these inaccuracies and slanted stories about me, I get even more upset about it. These types of things have happened to me ALOT, since I moved here. It is such a gossipy environment. The facts, and truth, have little to do with it, as far as the things said about me have gone. Yet I have had to pay the price for people automatically assuming that these things are all accurate, as they spread it themselves, rather than even ask me directly about any of it. It defames my character, damaging my reputation, in ways that I do not deserve. Throughout this ongoing ordeal, my only consolation has been that, GOD KNOWS THE TRUTH. I am a sinner; and I am definitely not a perfect person (nor are ANY of the people saying all these things about me, who are also-- ALL-- sinners-- a fact, that hasn't escaped my attention as I cry out to God about how unfairly I have been treated).

There have been so many twists and turns in things here, for me. I didn't see any of it coming, when I pulled up in my rented moving truck and started my new life here. I naively assumed, this would be a very, mutually, supportive, environment. I truly thought that people would be glad that we are all, unique, individuals, and even celebrate that fact, because, it would, add interest, to the social mix. I think that being 'copycat' clones of one another would be so boring and restrictive. But, that seems to be exactly what the people, who created the clique here, want this place to be like. I don't want anything to do with such a petty mindset and group.

Many of them surround me on my street, unfortunately. It causes a 'catty' feel to the community, that I think hurts how happy of a home it could be for every one of us-- including the clique members. Since I am a Christian, and they know this, about me, I think it's especially egregious that the leaders who created the clique also claim to be 'Christians'. Where is JESUS in ANY of THAT? Someone started a Bible study here, and I want nothing to do with it, because of the involvement of these people. I could never feel comfortable being around people who have done such ugly things to me, and for no reason. There's been ALOT of pointing fingers at MY supposed sins, here, and often by people whom I, not only, have not done anything to, but have been victimized by, myself, by their, spreading gossip, and lies, about me. I know if this was reversed they would not want me to have done any such thing to them. This sad and stressful situation comes from the fact that the people decide they can treat me however badly they want to, and for no real reason, because I chose to 'turn the other cheek' (Matthew 5:39) and show them grace (which is, UNMERITED FAVOR), when they have treated me so hurtfully. So many times, as I passed by the house of one of the main creators of the clique, I greeted her politely as I kept on walking while all the while knowing that she was telling people here not to be friends with me but to just 'cut me off', because she didn't like me. (The only thing she can really dislike me for is my not allowing her to control me, which is what she tried to do from my first day living here, since it is the same woman who was, repeatedly, bothering us about where my truck was parked to be unloaded when I moved here; which just happened to be where the OWNER OF THE COMMUNITY had parked it for me, because HE THOUGHT IT WAS BEST THERE.) I had people here sign a birthday card, for her, and I stayed silent, so many times, while she sniped at me with mean-spirited comments when I was just walking by, to take my trash to the dumpster or get my mail. I was MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS, NOT BOTHERING HER, but SHE saw fit to treat ME that way.

Another, 'Christian', here, that pointed fingers at my supposed sins, once told me about his pastor and church, and gave me the information to view the link online.  I actually did that because at the time I admired his faith and had no idea that he was one of the main ones cooperating with the clique leaders to spread rumors. I eventually found out about that and it explained alot that just hadn't added up to me before. It is a very hard situation to try to explain here, though, both because it is deeply hurtful and very complicated. I just felt tears start forming in my eyes at the mere thought of reliving the TRAUMA of this series of events in order to try to describe it, now. It got so bad for me that, at one point, I came close to suicide over it all, which truly scared me. I was 98% leaning toward suicide, and only the grace of God, and one friend here who still seems to believe in me and my having a good heart despite the things that, I am sure, she has also been told about me, kept that from happening. Because I am someone who does not go around trying to hurt anybody, and because I am a very 'live and let live' type of person, who is very accepting of other people being unique individuals, the brutal browbeatings I have endured here for simply being me and doing the best I can with what I have been handed here to have to deal with have been very hard on me. In John 10:10 the Bible says "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy, but I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." God Himself, has always been my greatest blessing, because, He is Truth and Love and Mercy and Grace. After Him, my beloved cockatiel, CeeBee, was my second greatest blessing, in this life. He is in Heaven now, since the summer of 2011, and someday, when it is God's timing,  I shall be with him again, forever. My third greatest blessing, I have EVER had, in my entire life, is THIS HOME. God did a MIRACLE to make this IMPOSSIBLE thing POSSIBLE for ME, and I still cannot fully comprehend that IT IS REALLY MINE and that God DID this, to BLESS ME with one of the DEEPEST DESIRES OF MY HEART. (The other desire of my heart has been to be deeply, truly, loved, by a good man, at some point, so I can finally know what BEING LOVED 'WELL' actually feels like.)

Because this home brings me SO MUCH JOY and is SUCH A BLESSING (because I have NEVER HAD MY OWN HOME before this, and it did not happen until my mid-60s) it makes sense that, Satan would come after it, with a vengeance, to create despair and hopelessness in my heart. I expect that from this enemy. What I was NOT expecting was how he would do MOST of his work through the CHRISTIANS.

The man that told me to watch the services from his church online gossiped about me and spread some rumors that were some of the worst defamations of me. One of the other men here, that he talked to about me, began to treat me really badly after inviting me over to his house one day. We stayed outside on the front porch, but he was very drunk and kept pulling his penis out of his shorts while telling me to touch it. I can't go into all the details, that led up to, him treating me that way. It felt really bad, to me, though, and truly traumatized me, even though, I did not leave. I just kept showing him the grace that, so many, here, have not shown me. Despite how badly he and others have treated me here, they always treat me like  I am worse than them by far. I wonder what God will have to say to them about it. He isn't going to let them get away with that, when they are standing before Him.

My computer is old and tired, and has been crashing again and again and again all day, and at this point, I just need to finish this post and hit 'publish' while it is still able to do so. There is still SO MUCH that I HAVEN'T SPOKEN ABOUT HERE. Some of it is just too private to me, and some is just too painful to me. You may wonder why I did not just get up and leave that hot afternoon when this drunk neighbor, I was visiting, treated me that way. There are several reasons for that, but mainly I was just so despondent and demoralized, by then, that I did not feel like, anyone, here would treat me any better; so maybe that's all I deserved. I was emotionally 'punch drunk', from, all the blows, to my self-esteem, by people here, by then. It really affected me, deeply. This man even tried to, force, my head down, onto his penis, at one point, saying to me, "Suck it. Just suck on it." It was so deeply sad, to me, that a neighbor I had never mistreated thought I deserved that, from him. I often show people so much more grace than they show me, while I stuff alot of fury down inside me from the injustice and unrighteousness of it all. It hurts alot. 

I wish him no harm and have prayed for him to recover from health issues he has had to deal with. But, I have not tried to socialize with him in any way since then, nor would I, after he treated me that badly. He seems oblivious to the fact that, I was seriously traumatized by his behavior toward me that day, and appears to be either clueless or totally insensitive to the fact that I really would rather not have any interactions with him, after that humiliating and hurtful ordeal. When, I have been outside walking, he has spoken to me, on a couple of occasions, since then. He has NEVER APOLOGIZED, but speaks with me as if NONE OF THAT HAPPENED. 

I feel very stressed when he engages me in conversation, of course, because I do not wish to be spoken to in the manner that he did on that awful day, ever again.  I cringe when he converses with me, because I am still very reactive, in my soul, to him traumatizing me in that way. I feel it was sexual harassment, if not sexual assault. I am someone who prefers to 'live and let live'; doing my best, to accept people as they are. But, when they manifest their character in such a way that, it victimizes me, in some way, I draw the line. I have shown this man great grace. I would really prefer that he not try to force me to talk to him though as I tense up terribly when I even set eyes on him now. My mind, and emotions, go back to the day that he thought treating me like that was alright. The first time that he spoke to me, after the incident on his front porch, was when I was coming home from a walk in Nature which is usually very relaxing for me. Standing on his porch, which I consider 'the scene of the crime', against me, by him, he called out to me, and I stopped but I did not leave the road or go any closer to where he was. He actually said that 'I should come visit him again sometime' as I cringed at his cluelessness

and felt my blood pressure going up, from a combination of both fear and anger. I thought to myself as he said that to me that 'That will never happen' as I went on my way. Even so I showed him grace on that day. The only other day he talked to me I was walking along the street to take my trash to the dumpster and he pulled up beside me in his car. I immediately felt a strong 'fight or flight' response to this and my body tensed up. Other neighbors were outside, in their yards, and he had just been talking with one of the other men that live here, before he saw me, and began to drive his car alongside me as I walked (trying my best to get away from him). He offered to take my trash to the dumpster which was in sight of me, and I didn't need or want his help, or anything else from him, except to leave me alone.

 

I nevertheless showed him grace as I curtly responded that I didn't need that and I kept on walking. He continued driving alongside me, though, refusing, to accept my response, which traumatized me then because my mind went back to the day on his porch when I kept saying I did not want to touch or suck his, pulled-out-of-his-pants, though flaccid, penis, when he kept pressing, and pressuring, me to do so. I tried to walk faster, and my voice rose from fear, and repulsion, as I said in a tone that was clearly agitated, now, "I DO NOT NEED, your HELP, to take my trash out." One of the neighbors looked at me, with an expression that indicated to me I was being seen as behaving RUDELY TO THIS MAN, now, for the (unnecessarily, in THEIR mind) SHARP TONE my voice had taken on toward him. After all, they likely reasoned to themselves that, HE was ONLY TRYING TO HELP. He, was ONLY BEING 'NICE', when in reality, I was actually the one who was TRULY SHOWING GRACE. I could not stop, in this situation, and 'set the record straight', to this onlooker, who was glancing at me now with a critical eye toward my, perceived, mistreatment, of this man. I have had to endure this type of assumption, about my actual character and disposition, frequently, here, as people observe situations I am involved in, or interacting in, and they take, how I am behaving, out of context, because, they do not know all the facts. That's never stopped them, from passing harsh judgments, on me, however. It is extremely frustrating, to me! Even after, I spoke to this man in a much more annoyed tone of voice, the second time, he pressed me, to accept his help (that I clearly did not need or want) to take my trash out, he continued to drive alongside me, even as I was now mere feet from the dumpster, saying that I should let him help me. At that point, my voice grew loud as I emphatically said to him, for THE THIRD TIME IN A ROW that, 'I DID NOT NEED HIS HELP!' A man who lives near the dumpster was out in his yard and witnessed this exchange between me and this other neighbor (who had truly traumatized me and left me with some emotional scars, besides causing me great anxiety NOW, since he was AGAIN NOT ACCEPTING MY SAYING "NO!", to him, in YET ANOTHER INTERACTION, BETWEEN US). I couldn't tell what he was thinking about what he thought he was witnessing but by this point in the prolonged interaction, I was feeling and sounding stressed, and upset at this man. I wasn't able to hide my annoyance and agitation anymore.

As the man, finally, started to drive away, when I was at the dumpster, he said, to me, in a surly tone of voice that showed he was not happy with my reaction to his offer or persistence, "I WAS JUST TRYING TO HELP YOU!" The onlookers could not possibly have known, or likely even understood (since, they were also men), what this, innocuous-seeming, exchange was actually putting me through, as a woman. Despite my fears and feelings about my being forced to deal with this man, again, which I have NO desire to do, I had actually TRIED VERY HARD to be, as pleasant as possible, toward him, and I was definitely extending ALOT of grace toward him.

I have written poems my whole life. I even have a poem I wrote when I was just  8 years old! I write them when my heart is full of some strong emotion, whether that is good or bad, happy or sad. I wrote the following one September 20, 2020 before the miracle of, finally, owning my own home happened for me! It sums up the despair I have often felt about how my life has gone so far and how worn out  I am from the discouraging and exhausting relentlessness of it all. I wasn't trying to step on Pink Floyd's toes with the title of it. It just reflected what I was feeling.

The Dark Side Of The Moon


Some people are living their dream,

Others are living their nightmare.

I'm somewhere in-between,

But closer to the dark side of the moon.

Chased that carrot around the track

Meant to motivate; can't be caught.

I chased that tease to hell and back,

While I starved, on the dark side of the moon.

The dark is colder than the light.

Feels like there's no one here but me.

My heart's burned out, from 'fight or flight'.

I'm worn out, by the dark side of the moon.

I've just 'survived' for so damn long.

I thought I'd, finally, get to live.

My dreams have died; my hope is gone,

From too long, on the dark side of the moon.

Death is dancing, all around me.

What a mocker, torment is.

I don't possess the needed key,

To escape from the dark side of the moon.

What's the answer? I don't have it.

But this will never feel like home.

My soul was not designed to fit

A life lived on the dark side of the moon.

My hope lies in God's Hands alone.

My feeble voice cries out, to Him,

Then turns into a woeful moan.

I'm stuck here, on the dark side of the moon.

- Deborah Gayle Robinson 

[NOTE: I do intend to share many more of my poems, here in my blog, at some point, but I have been extremely busy lately, so I just didn't have the time to do that this month, more than the one, above, that I shared. I have not forgotten.]

Needless to say, God's giving me this home was a really big deal, for me. A series of miracles, along with God's grace, made this possible for me! That fact, and the gratitude, I feel-- every day-- to Him, for this, great blessing, in my life, helps me to hang on through the, truly awful, ways I have been treated here at times. This home brings me such joy. When I had given up hope, God did this miracle for me.

It is just a shame that, in direct opposition to God doing this amazing thing in my life, Satan has continually done everything he can, often, through the 'Christians', here, to try to ruin it for me. If I did not have absolute trust in God I do not think that I could have, or would have, survived some of these things traumatizing me.

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When people tell you who they are, Maya Angelou famously advised, believe them. Just as importantly, however, when people try to tell you who you are, don't believe them. You are the only custodian of your own integrity, and the assumptions made by those that misunderstand who you are and what you stand for reveal a great deal about them and absolutely nothing about you.                                                                                                                    - Maria Popova

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It is hard to know where to start to unravel these things that I will try to describe, that I have gone through in the years since I was led here by the Lord. Despite all these things, I still believe that God has a plan and a purpose for me moving here and I look forward to the revelation, and the fulfillment, of that, at some point. As I wait for that to happen, I 'trust in the Lord with all my heart, and do not lean on my own understanding. In all my ways, I acknowledge Him, and I believe that, in time, He will straighten things out', in ways that only He can, as scripture, directs me, to do, in Proverbs 3: 5 & 6. I have shown everyone that I've described in this post so much grace, but there are also times that I felt fury, at them, for trashing my reputation to make themselves look like they were better people than me and acting 'holier than thou', which is pure hypocrisy on their part. I don't wish any of them any harm, even though they have harmed me. God is the Judge of each one of us, so I leave it to Him to deal with them, including on my behalf, in His timing.

When I first came here, I was devastated to learn that my newly built home had a mold issue in it that actually caused me a, life threatening, allergic reaction within the first 24 hours that I moved into it. As hideous as it is, I am about to show you a photograph of me from that, frightening, first day, when my face contorted from the sudden swelling, and my throat began swelling up inside, threatening to block my airway. I had already gone to drop off the rental truck at the dealer so that my sister and brother-in-law could head home, after unloading it, all day. I had asked them to stay another night or two but they felt that they needed to leave because of other commitments. It was now late at night, and I was alone, in a place that I had never even set eyes on, before I moved here. I had bought the house online, and concluded the transaction by phone and by mail. I vetted the owner who was also the developer, and had my sister physically visit the community to see if it all aligned with what they said about it online. Everything was fine, except for Covid, creating supply chain issues, and parts shortages, which were affecting the build.

I was in a very tenuous situation with my landlord in Omaha who rightfully began to press me on when I was going to move, since I had to delay that several times after being contacted by the owner/developer here, to tell me that there was, yet another, delay. As weeks became months more, of waiting, surrounded by moving boxes that had been packed long ago, now, I felt depression settle over me due to my living in limbo so long. I explained to them that I was at risk of homelessness, again in my life, because the landlord was getting very impatient that I move, as I had told him, I would be doing that, a few times, at this point. Things were tense.

This is how I looked my first 24 - 48 hours living in this house. My throat was also swollen inside, which partially closed my airway. My lips were numb, and I couldn't drink from a cup or a glass. I could not speak properly because of the swelling both inside and out. It was definitely potentially life threatening.

For comparison, this is how I normally look, since moving here.

When the day finally came for me to move, I came out of the isolation I had lived in, in that apartment, to drive halfway across the country to my new home. I was, and am, terrified of Covid, because I am high risk for serious illness or death, in a few different ways. Besides the fear of a high medical bill, should I be hospitalized with it, there is the terror that I could end up intubated in the ICU, fighting for my life. Scenes of people going through that, on the news, increased my anxiety, and fear. I had to come out of complete isolation in that apartment to travel out in the open to get here, with there being NOWHERE IN THE WORLD that was Covid free or completely without risk for me. When I got here, I immediately went back into isolating myself, from Covid. It didn't help to calm me that I heard neighbors here saying they, currently, had Covid, and were not wearing masks. One of them, was in the ICU fighting for his life at one point. He finally recovered but that was scary.

 

I hate needles. Although I still endured them, to get the first two, Pfizer, vaccines, even those did not prevent me from catching Covid when two men who were anti-maskers were in my home briefly because I needed their help to stand up a huge, heavy, cabinet, I was in the process of building, for some needed extra storage. It had to be one of them that gave Covid to me because I was not around any other people. That was in June of 2022. I was sick 8 days, but I was able to stay home.

My next door neighbor raked all the leaves that fell from any trees, onto her yard, over into my yard, raking them into a huge pile, just behind my house, where she thought that I wouldn't see them. I stood at my window and watched her do it on at least two occasions, though. She and I will never be friends, because of all the ways, and times, she has shown me disrespect. The list is long, for this, from her.

I once moved a silly sign from my yard, that I knew, the clique members had put there,  after I first photographed its exact location, to document, beyond dispute, that it was, in fact, in my yard. I took several pictures of it from all angles, before I pulled it up, and removed it, taking it to the manager's office. It said something like, 'This is not a race track. Slow down', because, they had claimed people were speeding, through here (which, I never saw anyone do on this street, myself). No one asked me, before they did it, and I would have said no, because, I don't even have a car, so I am, clearly, not speeding through here, myself, and they placed it right beside, my, attractive, often complimented, address sign, in my yard, which, detracted from that. I had every right to remove it. It was catty, of them, to do it, in the first place. As I walked past, the bossy neighbor's house, on my street, she saw me with it, and started screaming at me. I was mad. I was fed up. I was sick of her shit, that she started, from DAY ONE, of my moving here! Who the hell did she think she was?! I had 'turned the other cheek', at that point, for a year and a half, with this bitch. I had passively put up with her cruel comments about me, as I simply walked past her house, on the way to take out trash, get my mail, or just go for a walk; just to do my best, to keep the peace. On THIS day, I was SICK OF THEIR SHIT-- this catty little clique, that surrounds me, on my street-- and, when she started screaming at me, that it was THEIR SIGN, and I could NOT MOVE IT, I raised my voice to MATCH HERS and shouted back at her, with, unleashed, fury in my voice, "If this is YOUR sign, then you should put it on YOUR lot! NOT MY LOT!" 

That was all I had to say about it. I had no desire to get into more of a screaming match, with her, or be forced into more of a scene than she had already caused. I dropped it off at the manager's office, who had already left for the day, and then I went home. She did not miss a chance to take yet another verbal snipe at me as I walked back by to go home. I was not there for very long before I suddenly heard voices outside, on my porch. Looking up, I saw two of the clique members, on MY porch! They knew, we were not friends, at all, and that they were not welcome, at my house, because of how extremely disrespectfully they had chosen to treat me, for a long time. That, did not deter them, though, from FULL ON, HARASSING ME, on this particular day. They began knocking, LOUD, and HARD, on my front door-- mostly on the glass window in the center of the door. I refused to answer, because it was crystal clear that they had come to my home to cause more of a scene with me, and they felt brave enough to do so by GANGING UP ON ME (as a third clique member was also hovering nearby and had been with them, both before and after this incident, that I am describing, now). Nothing good could come of my opening my door, to engage in anything, with these women, so I did not answer my door-- which, as a homeowner, is my absolute, legal, right to do in such a scary situation.

They did not leave, however, but KEPT ON KNOCKING LOUDLY, so I, finally, called 911, because I became increasingly concerned that, they were going to break the glass, and perhaps even, just come in, then, despite the fact that, I was not at all REQUIRED to OPEN MY DOOR, to these bullying bitches. Anyone, showing respect for me, would have knocked once, or maybe twice, politely, and if, I chose, not to answer my door, for any reason, they would have respected my right to do so and left. They were not there for any reason except to gang up on me, and harass me, and bully me because they fed off of each other's bitchy bravado. A clique is really just a gang; and they were ganging up on me. I did not want my house damaged by them, and I truly felt they were going to break the glass window in the door at any moment. They had no right, or reason, to treat me this way. The bossy clique leader had already screamed at me, for taking their silly sign to the office, so she knew, full well, that I DIDN'T HAVE IT, WITH ME, IN MY HOUSE. That is just more proof that they only wanted to, openly, disrespect me. I'd always chosen to show them grace, for the sake of the community, especially since I DO NOT LIKE THEM. But this was EXTREME MISTREATMENT OF ME FOR NO REASON and I WAS DONE.

I waited about 10 minutes before calling the cops, so the whole thing went on for about A HALF HOUR! It just demonstrated HOW MUCH they DISRESPECT ME that they didn't even ACCEPT or ALLOW that as a homeowner, I have EVERY RIGHT to REFUSE TO ANSWER MY DOOR-- ESPECIALLY, to people who CLEARLY HAVE EVIL INTENTIONS, TOWARD ME. I have NO DOUBT that this scene would have BLOWN UP EVEN MORE, if I had not been mature enough, and wise enough, to NOT OPEN THE DOOR TO THEM. Think of how much HATRED OF ME, someone would have to have, to CONTINUE almost breaking my door down, to get at me, when if anyone asked them what I have EVER ACTUALLY DONE to THEM they would REALLY HAVE NO REASON, to TREAT ME THIS WAY, AT ALL. They will never admit, that they are furious, with me, simply because I would not allow these OVERBEARING BITCHES to CONTROL ME. I don't like them because of how badly they have chosen to treat me. I am friendly to everyone, unless they give me a reason NOT to be, as THESE people have done-- MULTIPLE TIMES. Even so, I have not, ever, done anything, to them like they have done to me. I quietly go about my business, trying to live my own life with as much peace, and privacy, as possible. I don't bully anyone. I don't try to hurt anyone. I don't gang up on any person here. I, generally, choose, to be gentle with people unless I am being treated disrespectfully by them. Then I WILL stand up for myself, if need be. Especially if my showing them grace causes me to be more mistreated because many people seem to take it as a WEAKNESS, in me. I feel alot of fury at being wronged in any way, that I have chosen not to unleash. 

These are people in their 50s, 60s, 70s, and even, 80s, in this clique, by the way. These are not, junior high school, kids. These are adults, who should know better.

There are alot of other things that I have been put through, here, but for my own reasons I have chosen to still keep some of them to myself, and some of it I have been too upset to talk about. Also, because I do choose to show grace to others, I have not spoken of some things because my not sharing it extends grace to those involved. I am, by far, one of the best human beings, here, though. I will say that. I just want you to know that, even though, I have spoken of some of it, here, I've been put through ALOT of other things also. Many, of which, are as bad, or worse, than what I have felt that I could tell you about here. There are reasons which are associated with my showing others grace, that prevent me from going into details about some situations. Just trust me, when I say that, it's been alot, and some of it is more serious, and sad, and scary, than the things that I have told you here. I am working hard on making my life here more of the blessing that God intended it to be, for me, and I am making progress with my goals, that will lead to me being healthier and happier. I am excited, about my future, here, and looking forward to whatever, God, has planned, for me. I trust God completely, and I take Him at His Word. Numbers 23:19, says that, "God is not a man, that He should lie, nor a son of man, that He should repent. Has He said, and will He not do? Or has He spoken and will He not make it good?" This is a 'God' thing, that He has done for me. One of my favorite Bible verses is Jeremiah 29:11: "For I know the plans and thoughts that I have for you," says the LORD, "plans for peace, and well-being, and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope." (Amplified Bible) It sounds good to me!

'Mister Right' never found me. “O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” . . . .

[NOTE: This post disproves the MYTH that 'MEN are NOT EMOTIONAL creatures'.]

In honor of Valentine's Day this month I am sharing some of the things that men have written to me over the years, which I had packed away, with all of my other memorabilia, that I sorted a few months ago. The emotions, men claimed to feel, for me, in these cards and letters, were saved as my reminder that I had at least gotten under their skin, if not in their hearts. It's so ironic that a woman who has had so many, superficial, chances at 'love' has still to this very day never had the deep, true, love, that I had simply expected, when I was younger, and even cried out to God for; apparently to no avail. Because of my being in the military, which is largely populated by males, and working as a dancer in nightclubs, for years, I have met and talked to and gotten to know thousands of men in my lifetime. Yet, out of all those men who have come through my life in some capacity there have only been two who have unlocked my very careful heart, and neither one of them wanted my heart. That is why I say that I have not found love. Being 'in love' has to be a two-way street for it to matter. The closest, I have ever come, to, mutual, love was with my second husband. The one I described in several of my posts as, 'the one man that I would love forever'. I honestly think that, our love was based on our intense, and incessant, sexual chemistry with one another, though; not on any, deeply shared, values, or goals. I view men as having been a quantity-over-quality let down for me throughout my life. I finally cut my losses and quit trying.

The following things are being transcribed here verbatim and the writer of each is identified, along with a little background on the person and/or on my relationship with them, although, I can't recall many of these men, who wrote these things to me. I've often felt that men say such things as are in these cards and letters just to try to 'sweet talk' a girl into bed with them. With that being my mindset about alot of what men say and do, causing all of it to be suspect, then, I probably just chalked up most of these statements they made to me to their being more horny than loving and let it go at that, as being something more superficial than special.

Even though it may be an ego trip that so many men made such a fuss over me I would gladly have traded all of it and more to have been truly loved, by one good man. I have NEVER known what THAT feels like; and knowing how my life's been, in that area, I fully expect to stay single for the rest of my life; using my vibrator, while, trying, to remember what laying there with another human being feels like. It has been decades since I have done that. Men. They have either been 'feast or famine' in my life, only the 'feast' seemed like JUNK FOOD that would have never satisfied my soul. Maybe I didn't give some of them enough of a chance with me. They seemed nice enough, on the surface. But 'chemistry' comes into play with a romantic connection, and clearly I just wasn't feeling that with ANY of these men.

The cards

Some of the notes that men wrote to me in the cards, pictured above, are below:

John responded to a personal ad that I placed

John and I dated very briefly. He was an Air Force officer. He responded to a personal ad that I placed in the local paper (how we met people before the internet and singles' dating websites, etc.) I had written that I wanted an intelligent man with an education, because I was tired of guys who couldn't discuss deeper issues in this world, and John told me that was what he really liked about my honest personal ad, and responded to. I just didn't feel 'safe' with him, alone, in person, and I don't know why. My spirit just felt disquieted within me, when I was around him, and I didn't continue to date him long enough to find out why. I just trusted my gut that he was not 'Mr. Right' for ME, and moved on.

My actual Personal Ad, from the local newspaper Bellevue Leader, was tucked inside this card from John and is yellowed with age. The date on the piece of newspaper says September 30, 1992. Under the "Personals" column in the paper, my ad read, "ATTRACTIVE WHITE female, slim, 5'9", blue eyed brunette that's outgoing, open, intelligent Christian with a spontaneous personality and a sense of humor SEEKS intelligent, college educated, non-smoking mature white male in 30s or 40s that's good company. Must be: communicative, not closed or moody, enthusiastic about life; honesty a must! NO GAMES! This lady enjoys stimulating verbal debates, eating out and has a wide range of interests including travel, music and reading. Photos appreciated. Write to: Box Holder, P.O. Box 1083, Bellevue, NE 68005-1083."

He sent me this card, during our very brief relationship, though. The printed card face read: Know what's special about you? Everything! In fact, it would really be impossible to single out one thing I like best about you. . . because everything about you is so great. Your smile, your way of talking, your way of understanding me . . . not to mention your great looks, and how fun you are to be with. It all adds up to one great person-- somebody I really like a lot! John added this note, "With great affection, your friend John". There's a gold gift card stamped "VICTORIA'S SECRET London" and a note inside it saying, "For Deborah The most special person in my life, and a good friend. John", but I have no memory of what gift he bought me from there. 

He enclosed a lengthy, handwritten, note, in the greeting card, also, which said:

John Adams

"Dear Debora[h]

         I feel, in such a short time I've grown very close to you. The affection I have for you is very real, and so intense I don't have words to properly describe it. I trust you and enjoy the time we spend together very much. 

        I'm not looking for a wife or a lover. I'm in search of a real friend to share my life with. I really think I've found her-- You!

        I can't help but wonder if in some small way we were brought together as an answer to some of our prayers. At least for me you are the answer to one of my prayers.     

        I hope in some way I can help answer some of your prayers. I will do anything I can for you. There really isn't any way I can repay the happiness you've already brought into my life, but I need to try.

        I'll always be here when you need me.

                                                               Your friend

                                                               John

[NOTE: John was ALL talk and VERY LITTLE substance. We didn't date long at all.]

Some of the cards, notes, and letters, from men during my dancer days

My main dancer alias, that I went by, for years, was 'Stevie'

I met Grant while I was working at Lipstix in Council Bluffs, Iowa. He was in sales and traveled his, multi-state, route, selling embalming supplies to funeral parlors, but he lived in Minnesota. He was married. We were never involved, romantically, or sexually, but it was clear, by the things, he said, and did, that he wanted to be. He reminded me of my father and even had the same last name, which deepened that perception I had of him. He had to stay in motels and eat out on his route so he asked me to eat dinner with him when his travels brought him back to Omaha again. All I ever did was eat out with him. He said he would appreciate having my company. One Sunday morning he called me, though, when he was home with his family, in Minnesota, for the weekend, and told me that he had stayed home, and sent them on to church, without him, because he wanted to call me. I realized he wanted more than a dinner companion, from me, then, and I didn't want to break his heart, or wreck his life, so I didn't encourage him in it. [The printed card face] "Getting to know you is really alot of fun for me.  No matter what we do or where we go, I know I'll have a good time. Maybe that's because we never have to work at it. When  we're  together,  good times just happen naturally.  Being with you is something I always look forward  to, and  the  times  we  spend  together  always leave me feeling in a happy mood.  You're a nice person.  I  like  you.  And I  just wanted to tell you so." [Part of the handwritten note, inside, from Grant]  ". . . . I needed to sen[d] this card to thank you for your friendship. I pray every day that I  won't  do  anything  that  will  scare you away. I am looking forward to hearing more chapters. . . ."

Another card from Grant was a birthday card to my cockatiel, CeeBee-- my bird baby-- but he added a note to it, which included "Give your mama a big kiss for me- She is a wonderful lady".

Tim, was one of my 'Call Girl' customers, when I was involved in that, for a very short span of time near the end of my dancing when I worked as an undercover informant, for the Omaha Police Department. Tim was a married man. I REALLY did not want to bring that up again, here in this post, as I have already covered that [https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2021/11/twin-franklins-price-of-prostitution.html] and it was a low point in my life in so many ways. A definite 'dark night of the soul' for me. I sat here, debating, whether to 'sanitize' who he, actually, was, in his relationship with me, in this post, but the truth is the truth. It is what it is. I decided to go ahead, and include it, again, in the context of this post's particular subject matter, because knowing this is very instructive for the average person, who is most likely very naive, as I used to be on this subject, of who the men are, who hire prostitutes; and will, therefore, be shocked, at the reality of the situation. Try to comprehend if you can, something that REALLY SHOCKED ME about the men who engage in this. They are sitting in the church pews, on Sunday mornings, next to their wives. In fact, the man who  is in the pulpit giving the sermon from God's Word, may be someone buying sex services. I honestly thought I could tell by looking at men, if they were the 'type' to seek such relationships, but there truly is no type, that someone can pinpoint. Men, are able to compartmentalize their lives, in a way women can't seem to do. That is the best way that I can explain how this happens, even with, 'good' men. 

My customers ALL appeared to be truly nice, 'salt of the earth', guys. You would have NEVER SUSPECTED that they paid for sex. Some of them, were single, but some were married. Only they know their reasons for doing this. Besides my not being able to tell just by looking at them, the other thing that shocked me came from my erroneous assumption that the married ones must be in bad marriages and hate their wives, but that was not at all true! They talked about their wives, and kids, openly, and even spoke, lovingly, of their spouses. It didn't even really sound like they were driven to it, out of any particular 'unmet need' they had. It just seemed more like they were simply curious and wanted 'different'. I recall a maintenance man, at an apartment that I lived in, decades later, starting to talk about how he loved his wife, but that he wondered to himself, when he was in a woman's apartment, fixing something on their Work Order, what it might be like  to just have sex with them because, as he put it himself, he just wanted to know  if somebody else 'did it different', than his wife did it with him. Simple 'curiosity'. He had a very attractive young wife, and was a devoted married man and father. 

Back to Tim, and the cards that he seemed to enjoy picking out and giving to me. One has nothing on the front but a sweet photo of a white Labrador puppy sitting in a tin pail that's hanging on a fencepost. The inside is printed with these words: Without you I'm a pail version of my usual self. Tim wrote "Miranda* Just wanted to let you know how much I look forward to  talking to you and seeing you again.  I truely enjoy your company  and I'm hopeful that I'll get to know you  in a more intimate way. You are an  incredibly lovely person, both inside  and out!  See you soon, Tim."  It appears to be one that he wrote to me when we were just getting to know one another, sitting and talking at the Backdoor Lounge, where I worked. 

Tim brought me another card for our first 'date'. Because there was NO REASON that he NEEDED to romance ME, in the situation, I found it to be both surprising, and touching, that he did.  Maybe men really aren't just looking for sex.  Maybe, like alot of women do, men miss the romance, too. He handed me this card, and the front of it read, "I think of you often  but sometimes forget  that the thought  doesn't  count  if you don't know it yet", and the printed inside said, "So here's a 'Hello' that's intended to say you've been on my mind, especially today!" Then he added, "ESPECIALLY Today!! Tim." and then, over to the side of that, "Miranda, I hope this  experience is as rewarding  and fulfilling for you as I am sure it will be for me. Tim." I added my own note to the card, later, that said, "6-4-98 $200.00  in this card for 1st 'pro' w/Tim 2 roses were w/card". He took me to dinner, first. 

Another card from Tim had a front that read: "When you're not here, I just can't seem to get on top of things." Inside it said, "you, for  example." Adding a note, inside, Tim wrote "Miranda, I saw this card and thought it somehow appropriate. I'm hoping you are looking forward to the 29th as much as I am, to remedy this situation. Thinking of you, Tim"

I'm sitting here feeling so sad, as I relived those memories from that dark time. I feel tears in my eyes. If you read my post about the prostitution (the link to it, is included, above) I referred to Tim as "Greg", in that post. I don't recall why, now, but I think it was because I honestly could not remember his name, until, I came across these old cards that he gave to me 25 years ago, as I was sorting through all my mementos, that document my life story. I haven't had sex with anyone, at all, since then. I had three TRULY AWFUL kisses, with a man, last summer, that I never should have kissed (and that was MY FAULT, for doing that, not his), which was the first, and only, time, I have kissed ANY man on the mouth, since my last marriage ended when I was in my 30s! It was also the only physical exchange of any sexual nature I've done in the last 25 YEARS of my life. Pathetic, I know, but true, nevertheless, whether you believe that or not. It seems that, if I stood right in front of Cupid, so his arrow would HAVE TO hit me, IT WOULD MISS somehow.

It may not seem like it, but I have been single, uninvolved, and celibate for most of my adult life including now. There REALLY is just not ANY man that is not more TROUBLE than THEY ARE WORTH. I literally THANK GOD on a regular basis that I am SINGLE! I have felt this way for decades. I enjoy laughing and having fun but  I don't want a man in my private life because I NEED PEACE and they disappoint, anger, and annoy me, so often. I don't have the energy or desire to deal with the CRAP, they bring, into MY life. It is TOO STRESSFUL, and not a good enough ROI.

Paper bar napkins were always handy to have around, as communication devices. Club customers, who left the bar with a dancer's coveted personal phone number, scribbled on a napkin they tucked away for safekeeping, in their wallet or pocket, 
were certainly grateful for those. Sometimes notes were written on them like this one to me from a, Jewish, club customer, whom I was using Yiddish phrases with throughout our chat, which I had learned from a gentleman who was a patient of mine in the hospital, when I was in nursing. Mel used the word "meshuga", and I am someone who has NEVER wanted to 'dull my shine', just to blend in, with the crowd, so I considered it a compliment! Mel and I had bantered back and forth in between my having to go up on stage to perform, and I know he meant it kindly!

Below, is a photo of some more old bar napkins. Tissue-like pieces of paper, that captured some of the moments, from my days working as a dancer, in the clubs. It's hard to see his faded signature, as Josh got right to the point, with me. I do not remember him at all out of the thousands of men that I met and talked to in these places, over the years, but I had an impact on him, that night at the bar. I likely saved it for someday when I was a gray-haired old lady, as I am now, just  to reassure myself that there was a time in my life when I was young, attractive, and desirable, enough that, a young man would write a note to me, on a napkin, that said, "I want you BAD!" The other 3 napkins are just lipstick 'kisses' of mine that I would do and give to the club customers, as 'souvenirs' of their visit to the club, and their conversation, with me; hoping, they would be reminded to return.

I got a one page, typewritten, letter, from a club customer who signed it "Gary". I wrote a note at the top of this thing to remind me of some of the unsavory side of dealing with club customers. It wasn't all glamour and gentlemen, although some of it was. It was written to me, as "Miranda", which means it was near the end of my dancer career, when I was working as an informant for the Omaha Police, and for the first time, in my entire dancing career,  I was doing some limited 'Call Girl' type of prostitution (NOT 'street walking'), specifically to sully my reputation, so I could get the criminals, and gang members and the dancers who hung with them to trust me enough to let me in on conversations and so forth. It worked but to a very limited extent and the price I paid for that, by grieving the Holy Spirit in me, was most definitely not worth it. This guy had sat with me on several occasions. I even had him coming up to me in the Old Market when I was off work. He tried to sit and talk with me there on my time off away from my job where I was required to talk to these men. I just walked away from him. He knew I wasn't into him. He was a 'sleazy, slimy' kind of just-really-gross guy. Other women, will know, what I mean, by that, but I don't know if men will know, what I mean. Maybe. Anyway, I wrote a note, to myself, at the top of this letter, that he typed, to me, which said:

"I got this from a (gross) club customer, that brought a plain, gray, ribbed turtleneck sweater into the Backdoor Lounge where I was a dancer, & then he thought for some sick reason he could actually sleep with me. I told him how health conscious I was (& safety, etc.), to put him off, & did; but, then, he gave me this & I kept it only as a reminder of how out-of-real[i]ty & gross & sick, etc., club customers can be. Ugh!"

Here is his letter to me as 'Miranda', in the bar where I worked as a dancer:

"Miranda,

          Thanks for hearty comments on Tuesday, December 23. How nice of you to be so kind to someone had given you something for Christmas and was kind enough to purchase your new costume. I will be sure to wear my gloves the next time I stop in as I wouldn't want you to pick up any strange viruses.

         I was touched to hear that you are pursuing other activities to earn a few extra dollars. I was thinking of giving you a picture of Grant just to help out during the holidays but I felt a little hurt as I walked out. [NOTE: I have blog readers in 62 countries now, not just the U.S., so for those of you who may not know, Grant is pictured on a $50.00 bill, and this jerk was trying to wave a 'lost' tip in my face because I refused to 'accommodate' him. As for his reference to my 'earning a few extra dollars' for my doing prostitution, I was paid $200.00-- twin Franklins, which are hundred dollar bills, plus taken out to eat, and sometimes drinks, as well, plus the men paid for a motel or a hotel room. Some even brought me flowers, and gifts! So, all-in-all, they spent at least several hundred dollars to be with me; each time. I also had repeat/regular customers, even though I only did this for a very short time, who KNEW the 'product' they were getting, after the first time with me, and were more than willing to spend all of that again, to be with me. So, this jerk that wrote me this is what my Twitter friends would call 'a whiny little bitch'. Plus, NONE of my customers that I slept with were GROSS like him. They were nice, clean, guys-- who even used CONDOMS, for me-- and STILL really liked it.]  
            I was thinking of asking you out on New Year's Day for a little fun. I would have picked you up around 3:30 PM. We would have gone out for something to eat then checked into to a motel for some mutual sex (your fee is appropriate and would have been in an envelope). I was thinking of giving you a lovely body massage -beginning with your back, down across your lovely little ass, down your legs, turn you over and finish with your legs, then start with your breasts and nipples which I would gently kiss and caress, down across your tummy to your sweet little pussy which I would have licked your clit while my fingers would have stroked your pussy. After you had a nice little orgasm, I would have laid down on the bed and you could have climbed on and rode my cock (with rubber) until I too had an orgasm. You would then lay down at my side and we would have just hugged and I would have continued to your nipples and breasts. After we had wound down, we could have gotten dressed and I would have taken you back to your apartment. I was even thinking of getting you some nice lingerie just for yourself. A nice long sheer gown to sit around in and enjoy. 

        But alas, you probably wouldn't want to touch me unless you had on rubber gloves and we were in a tent with alcohol mist since I am so covered with germs and I must be carrying all kinds of unhealthy sexual viruses."

                                                                  (it was signed, Gary)

[NOTE: I wouldn't have EVER wanted to touch HIM, or HIM to touch ME, even if he was THE VERY LAST MAN ON EARTH, and, HELL had just FINALLY FROZEN OVER.]

NOTHING about that misogynistic, thinly-veiled-hostility, toward me, was in ANY way TITILLATING, or ENTICING to me. I have that same cringeworthy, icky feel, that I felt, the first time, I read that thing, just from having to reread it, now, to transcribe it, verbatim, into this blog post. It leaves me feeling like, I need to go take a shower, to wash his grossness off of me. I was never with him, nor would that have EVER happened with him. I even found his letter to be frightening. He seemed like that type of guy that would hurt you or worse if you ever fell for his bullshit; which I never did-- which is why he stayed so angry at me. He couldn't have me, and he was furious about that. He reminded me of creeps that torture women just to hear them scream and beg for their lives. When men I don't like, or sometimes, don't even know, or even those like Mark, below, that I did know well but wasn't at all attracted to, EXPRESS these EXTREMELY DETAILED PLANS, which they want to achieve with ME, that THEY ALREADY KNOW, are NOTHING I WANT, it's concerning to me. Even troubling. I saved the letter as an example of the dark side, of working as a dancer, in nightclubs. It was, dangerous, at times.

   

Good times, on the Air Force base

I have NO idea exactly where or how I met this man, but I think it was during the year that I was divorcing Tom but I still had my dependent ID to access the base.  I was fed up, with trying to commit to a man, and continually being disappointed, by them, in marriage, so that year I had a blast, playing the field and dating ALOT of different men. That song, 'It's Raining Men' (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5aZJBLAu1E), was MY LIFE for that one, super fun year! I didn't have to try. I just walked onto the base any time day or night, and within minutes I had met a man, or two, or three or . . . . I didn't take a lover although I easily could have. I just enjoyed being wined, and dined, danced with, and desired, by so many men, because my attempts at marriage had always ended in heartbreak for me so I did not want to 'settle down' again with any guy, anytime soon. The closest I came to a 'steady' relationship that year was with an Air Force intelligence officer that was part of the crew on the Looking Glass**-- Edgar. Just now, after all these years, I Googled him, and there he was on my computer screen. The same guy, but white-haired now. It says he is the President and CEO of an organization in Washington, DC. He had an 'air' about him in more ways than one. He had "III" after his name and his family was very prominent, including, in military circles. But, the reason I broke up with him was because he would NOT WEAR DEODERANT!  He would call me up, from some Top Secret location up in the Looking Glass which he could not divulge to me, to arrange a dinner date with me at the Officers Club, for when he returned to base. He did shower, and put on a suit, for those occasions. But when He came straight to see me, still, in his flight suit, and he removed it, to cuddle, I could not get past the fact that, alot of body odor was released, into the air, when he did that. I asked him to shower, at my place, and I tried to discuss it with him, but he did not want to wear deoderant, and that, really, stunk up our relationship, to the point that I stopped seeing him, because of it. My luck at love just STINKS.

Sometimes, even literally.

>sigh<

I digressed into the thing about Edgar. I do have mementos from my time dating him, but they are several photos of us dressed up for dinner at the Officers Club, and I did not include them in this post. Below, is an elegant cardstock Christmas card, from a man that was in Britain's Royal Air Force at the time that we met at Offutt. Allies do fly into U.S. air bases and dock at navy ports, at times. Again, I  do not remember exactly how we met. Although I did drink and party some that year, I was mostly quite sober, but simply cannot recall him, after 35 years have passed give or take, including because I was seeing several men then and wasn't spending alot of time with any particular one of them, so I was spreading myself thin, socially speaking. This card has a navy blue grosgrain ribbon attached to it, and is embossed in silver, on the front. Inside Bob's squadron address is printed, and he wrote the note "Debbie, (I wasn't a dancer at the time so I was using my real name) such a dreamy voice! Bob. T". I don't know, his last name, to Google him, now, but I could contact the squadron, and ask them, if they can determine who "Bob T" was back then. After all these years I doubt that I will do it, though.  I did pull this article up on Google just now, which at least talks about Bob's unit, among alot of other things. It has some photographs of its location, and so forth. (https://www.flying-tigers.co.uk/2021/raf-scampton-corgi-aviation-archive-and-hobbymaster-new-model-arrivals/) I had other saved correspondences from Bob so he tried to develop a relationship with me for awhile, mostly through letters. I likely would have thought that, the distance of him living 'across the pond' would be too much of an obstacle to overcome.It seems that I never encouraged him to have a relationship with me, for some reason, and eventually his letters stopped.  I feel strangely sad about that now, because Bob wrote to me so enthusiastically. On the other hand because space is so limited in my home, which is why I sorted my mementos a few months ago, to narrow it down, from how many there were,  I think I threw away the stack of letters from Bob, without even rereading them, because there seemed to realistically be no point in sitting here doing that, now.

In a torn and faded envelope, with the barely visible postmark of "1980" on it, I found a lengthy letter, written to me, on pink paper, from Mark [P.]. I was in the Air Force myself then, stationed at Offutt AFB. "Amn Debbie Gray PSC #2 Offutt AFB, Nebraska 68113". The return address was an APO, in "New York 09127". I  do remember Mark. He lived in the coed dorm, I was assigned to, when I got to Offutt. He was extremely tall and lanky, awkward, and geeky-seeming. I wasn't attracted to him at all. I actually hid from him, at times, because he sought me  out so much. I felt sorry for him, but that was about it. It's sad that my life has gone like that. I'm not attracted to men like Mark that would give me the world and all their love if I would just be in a romantic relationship with them. Yet the extremely limited times I've ever felt love for a man, those relationships NEVER COULD HAVE WORKED OUT. So, Mark, Bob, and many others, over my lifetime, have felt disappointment on their end, but so have I on mine. It has just NEVER MATCHED UP for me. It is so bad that, I don't even trust my heart, to know who really is worth loving, or who might, truly, love me, well, if I let them. For ME, I, REALLY, have to FEEL a GENUINE attraction and connection and that's SO RARE, for me. I am not in love with anybody, now, and I am so disgusted, at how men treat me, that I doubt I will even want to open myself up, to anyone, again. All things considered I am actually alot happier with NO man in my life. I am SURE that I NEVER found 'the one'. Or at least I THINK I'm sure. Maybe, Michael. . . ?

Here is Mark's handwritten letter to me, when I was a young woman in the USAF:

                                                                                         September 2, 1980

Dear Debbie

       The moment I met you I knew that you were special. No other woman I ever met won me over as quickly or as completely as you did in the first minute of our first conversation. Being with you was like walking through Paradise.

       Of course, everywhere there was Jim***. I saw no purpose in trying to fight against him over you for two reasons. First, because I am a coward in matters such as this and felt that there was simply no way I could win you from him. Secondly, I believed that you belong to him, as he belonged to you, and I had no right to try and steal what belonged to another man. I resigned myself to just being your friend.

      Then I was cast out of Paradise. Why, I still don't know, but I guess you had your reasons, and maybe they were good ones.

      I was hurt that you were avoiding me. I was angry at you, but I knew inside myself that the real blame lay with me, I had failed you somehow, and I was really angry with myself. Outwardly, though, I was determined to ignore you and have nothing to do with you ever again.

                                                                                                                  2

     Yet everywhere I went you seemed to pop up out of nowhere and everytime I saw you I would feel chills and trembling and a racing heart. I knew then that I had feelings for you which would withstand anything you could do to me.

     I kept hearing things about you. The dormitory is a small world, everyone knows one another and people talk. I heard, true or false, that you had broken up with Jim. The next day at breakfast I approached you and aske you how you were. I wanted to comfort you in any way I could. If my plunging the biggest knife they have in that dining hall kitchen into my heart would have brought Jim back to you and you and he would then live happily ever after, I would have done it. But instead I fumbled with your hat and fumbled with your CDC book and fumbled with my mouth and felt like a fumbling fool. You withdrew from me, so I left quickly.

    A week or so passed, and again I heard rumors. The stories said that you were stripping in front of men in the dormitory, and that you had entered some kind of strip tease contest at some joint. [NOTE: This is TRUE. My entering the contest, anyway. Some male Air Force buddies took me with them to a stripper bar- my first time in one of those clubs- and 'to let off steam' I did enter the contest at the end of the night, along with other women who were there.] They

                                                                                                                  3

said that you were sleeping with Frank [B]. [NOTE: This is FALSE. I definitely did NOT sleep with Frank, although he had 'started to grow on me' at this point, until I went to his dorm room one morning to tell him that-- because he had been chasing after me, for awhile-- and found him in bed with not one, I think, but two women. Frank was the complete opposite of Mark. He, was smart, too, but not geeky like Mark, and Frank was not 'buttoned up tight' like Mark. He was relaxed, fun-loving, and liked himself, none of which Mark seemed to be capable of doing, given his personality. Just as I saw them in bed, Frank saw me, and I turned and left. He had his dorm room door wide open, so anyone in the hallway could see this scene. Maybe for some sort of 'bragging rights', with the other guys? I'm glad I found out what Frank was really like, right before I made a mistake, with him.]

    This last story is the one that hurt me the most. It is also the story that prompted this letter and the question I am about to ask you. I should be asking it in person, but I am an ocean away from you right now-- in England-- so I will have to write it: Debbie, will you marry me? I love you.

   Maybe you are rolling on the floor with laughter right now. If so, I can handle that. My greatest fear is that my proposal will upset you and make your life more miserable. If that happened, I would walk in front of a truck. 

   I want to share your life, be your man and offer you strength and guidance when you need them, and take them from you when I need strength and guidance. I guess I should add, to be completely honest, that I desire you physically as well. You're beautiful.

   I would get out of he Air Force after one more hitch if you wanted me to, or even get out in November if that's what you truly wanted. I would dig ditches to support you, if that's the only job I could find. I would help you buy your house, and your department 

                                                                                                                 4

store furniture department, and help you raise your children: black, white, yellow, red and brown (perhaps a Puerto Rican, just to prove that they don't all turn out like George [H].

   I guess I know already what your answer is. Still, if there's the slightest chance for me, I had to ask. Maybe you love Frank Beale. [NOTE: Nope, and I was ANGRY about Mark writing me ALL THESE RUMORS that let me know how much GOSSIP was going on about me-- both true AND untrue-- that he was even hearing while over in ENGLAND! I disliked this letter as much as I did Mark himself. He was just ANNOYING.] Maybe you're back with Jim. Maybe there's someone else. Maybe there's nobody else but you just despise me. So be it. Whoever you go with or whatever you do, I want you to be happy. If my never seeing you again will help you achieve happiness, it is a price worth paying. I don't want to exert any pressure on you. Take care of yourself.  

                                                                         Sincerely,

                                                                                   Mark

. . . . I will be here until October 2, or thereabouts.

Michael, was a Lieutenant Colonel, in the Army, that I met when I remarried Tom and he was stationed at Fort Drum, in upstate New York, as an Air Force weather forecaster. Michael's unit was there, for training exercises, when I met him. They had to return home, to New York City, not long after that. We stayed in touch, by mail, and by phone, for many years, though. Michael wrote me alot of letters. He was tall and manly and bald; an officer and a gentleman, at all times, with me. I felt, very respected, and cared about, by him. He was wonderfully supportive, of me. I kept a few of his many letters to me, when I sorted my memorabilia. Here are some excerpts from those letters . . . . One last, but very important, thing, I am adding, to this paragraph, about Michael, as I near the completion of writing this post just prior to publishing it online: Of ALL the men I have EVER known in my life-- and there have been many thousands of men that I have encountered,  in some way, or other-- MICHAEL, is the ONLY one, who 'stood the test of time'. 

I told him when we met at Fort Drum and were first getting to know one another that I did not think we were compatible astrology signs, because he was a Virgo, and I am an Aquarius. That was 34 years ago. I always let that hold me back, in my mind, when I was interacting with him, over the years;  as silly, as that may sound, to some people, who don't put much credence, if any, into such things. I was talking to a Virgo friend recently who's happily involved with an Aquarius. I also knew of another couple that we both know, who are those two signs, and I told her about that fact regarding them. In rereading Michael's letters to me, he spoke of that in one of them-- my hesitancy, due to that fact-- and let me know that he didn't think it was an issue for us. But, I allowed it to be an elephant, in the room, between us, versus a, manageable, mouse. I gave it power over love.   

As I think about the men who have come through my life, to the present day, in writing this post, I see so clearly that, Michael, is the ONE, who ALWAYS SHONE ABOVE THE REST-- BY FAR-- in how he treated me, cared for me, and loved me.    I have tears in my eyes, as I'm typing this, because, NOW, it is likely TOO LATE. Due to the passing of, so much, time, it would be logical to assume he married, and moved on with his life, in New York City. I tried Googling him, while writing this post, because sometimes I can find out what happened to the people, from my past, that way. I tried several different ways to Search for him online, to no avail. There was an obituary, for a man with his name, and some of the facts in the write-up about that person indicated that it COULD be MY Michael. Even the photo COULD be him, if he gained alot of weight, over the years, and lost his fit physique that the military requires its service members to maintain. The man in the photo, which accompanied the obituary, was bald, but I could not be sure it was him; and if it WAS, then he is GONE off the face of the earth. I do have one other way to try to locate him, but I would have to go back into the memorabilia that I kept when I sorted all this stuff months ago and see if I saved a reference letter that he wrote for me for a job I applied for, that had his contact info on it.

*            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *

[NOTE: Today, Valentine's Day, 2023, I went upstairs to look through the things that I saved after sorting my memorabilia, and I found the reference letter that Michael wrote on my behalf. Using his Contact Information, on it, I tried to find him, but could not. I could see photos of his actual apartment address, in NYC,  online, and it was very clearly a man's apartment. But it went on the market in December 2020, and was rented again, in just 2 days. I have no idea if he was  the one living in it, just prior to that, either. The years we were communicating,  we used mail for correspondence, and landlines, for calls. Cell phones were not  yet available. Because this was a letter of reference for me he had put his work number on it. When I called that, I got, a recording, saying, "This number is not  in service". The obituary, that I found online when Googling his name, was from 2011, and the man was 69 when he died. The photo could, possibly, be Michael. Comparing that photo, with the one he had attached to his letter to me, I began  to cry, because the baldness and head shape were the same, the size and shape  of the ears, were the same, the eyebrows, and eyelids, were the same, and the, shape, of the nose was close to being the same, in both pictures, although I had  to imagine the age progression as well, after so many years. The biggest reason that I think it could be him though is because of what it said. It gave their name with the middle initial, and ALL of it MATCHED. Michael was a Virgo (August 23 - September 22), and the person in the obituary, lived from, September 16,1942-December 9,2011. Also, part of the obituary described the deceased in this way: 

"Michael served his country in the United States Army and Army National Guard, retiring as a Lt. Colonel in 2002. He was a member of Holy Family Parish, Knights of Columbus and Knights Templar. Michael is a graduate of Marquette University and worked in the communications and advertising field the majority of his career both in Milwaukee and New York City."]

*            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *

Michael's letters to me through the years were always so loving. As we discussed my troubled life, and misadventures, as I struggled to find my way in life through so much heartbreak, and loss, and abuse and such, he always gave me the grace to do whatever I thought was best for me, even if he wanted something different in the situation. He cared enough to want me to be happy. Isn't that what love is? I have tears in my eyes. It looks like, it is too late, to find out, what we might have been, with one another. Too much time has passed and life is so fast and so short! WHERE DID IT ALL GO? Michael, is, the ONLY man, that LOVED ME, WELL. Because of that, I trusted him, and I have never once felt disrespect toward him,  for any reason, including because of any disrespect FROM him, since, THAT never happened, with HIM. My PET PEEVE that gets me REALLY PISSED OFF has always been, someone treating me with disrespect. I become LIVID WITH RAGE (at least on the inside; while it takes, all, my strength, to hold my temper, and my tongue, toward them, then, for doing that, to me). ESPECIALLY, when they do that to me, IN FRONT OF other people, and expect me to just, let it go (especially, time, after time, once I 'let it slide' by an act of great grace on MY PART the previous time(s) they have pulled that, for their own, EGO, and/or AMUSEMENT). A man, who had earned alot of respect in my eyes, lost it all because of doing that to me. Multiple times and multiple ways. I feel seething anger due to that and doubt we will ever be friends again. He is not the man I gave him credit for. One thing, is for sure. I can think of no worse feeling, when I deal with other people, than realizing that I gave someone, far too much, credit and I have to reconsider the place they have in my life; if any, at all. When it comes to, who, people, really, are, time, will tell.  

                                                                                                                                                                                                                "August 10, 1989

Hi Stevie!

    I continually reread your letters sharing the wide spectrum of emotions and concerns you have dealt with since I met you. Like you, I have been very cautious in trying to understand the 'rocket engine burst of fire' that launched our friendship. . . . My fascination with you was further amplified by your candid openness about yourself, your problems, needs[,] hopes and dreams. I have never met a woman like you. . . . Ours might have been a passing event but I'm afraid we have linked minds, hearts and souls, as a minimum as friends as long as you wish. . . . In my mind neither you or I violated the trust you have with Tom. I respect that. He is luckier than he realizes. . . and I would tell him that to his face. But you must also accept that I met an intelligent, warm, open[,] attractive[,] beautiful woman. That new door of unbelievable candid communication and the emotions I felt can never be taken away. I will not forget your smile[,] your touch on my hand or your hug. . . . I am a healthy emotional man who is also physically attracted to you. I will always dream and fantasize even if we never exercise that feeling. . . . Love, Michael"

                                                                                 "September 19, 1989

Dear Stevie

        I'm sorry that such unpleasant events were the cause of your call [NOTE: Tom had struck me, and was arrested for it by the base security police. He was angry at me, that he was in jail; not angry with himself, for striking me] but in spite of that, I was thrilled to hear the sound of your voice. . . . As a friend, I guess I have to agree that you have tried and endured enough of Tom's behavior. Apparently he does not realize how lucky he is to have you. I'm sure he has also not thought about the effect losing you will have on his life. . . . Stevie, it is time to reawaken that special, open, happy, confident person that I know you are. It is time to think of yourself, Stevie and get on with your life. . . . It is important however that you also consider the power and charisma of your personality and your other interests. . . . There is no doubt you are beautiful and talented enough to dance again but that is tough . . . work. The Stevie I met has much to offer the world and it's time to get on with that. . . . I remember and still feel the touch of your lips, your hand and your body as we hugged. I think we are both cautious about that uncanny electricity that started with one look into your eyes that morning, and your smile so infectious as was your genuine enthusiasm for the entire event. You thoroughly energize a situation and the people around you. . . . Consider carefully where Stevie will be happiest, in a place she can be what she wants to be, on her own. The companionship and people to live love and play with will follow. . . . You are special . . . Love Michael"

                                                                                           "2 February 1990

Hi Stevie,

    I like that name too. It has a special meaning to me also, as I recall that incredible beautiful young girl in blue jeans and tank top shooting pictures of a band. [NOTE: That's how I met Michael. His unit had a marching band, and they were practicing on the road outside the temporary barracks that Tom and I were staying in at the time. I heard the music and lay on the road taking pictures of them as they marched in formation up and down the road, basically right on top of me. Because Michael was their commanding officer, he was watching the band, and saw me doing that.] I will never forget that moment when you smiled and said, "Hi! I'm Stevie! Isn't that band great" then the phone call in the office . . . Dinner, German wine (how prophetic that was) and your arms around me and that kiss. I'm stirring all over just remembering. You have pushed aside all other fantasies. We have been together often in my mind. You have danced for me many times in my mind and I have been in your arms and kissed your lips over and over feeling the warmth of your body on that chilly wet night. I would go on and on pages and pages about every inch of you that I have not seen or touched. You certainly tapped a well in me. . . . you have been through a lot . . . and I am continually impressed with how you handle yourself. . . . men will be after you. It's a magnetism and uniqueness that will always attract men and create jealousy in women. You are a very unique person, with a special gift and people do not like that. . . . I'm jealous of all who see you [dancing in the nightclubs], when I have not. . . .

             Love Michael XO"

THIS ONE, from Michael, makes me SMILE! The letter is tri-folded in the envelope, and when it is extricated from there, Michael wrote on the outside of the folded up pages, "TOP SECRET For your eyes only". As I open the letter it is dated 6 October 1989. Michael taped a small photo of himself inside of it, showing his manly build, bald head, and a 'poker face' expression, befitting, of a colonel, in the military. He drew a picture of me, on the first page, that showed he not only had, real, artistic talent, but that, he really had, thoroughly, fantasized about being with me. It is a sketch, of me, fully nude (which, I never posed for, so, it was done out of his own imagining of what I would look like unclothed-- and he got it right!), in high heels only, holding a bottle of wine in one hand, and a feather duster in my other hand, just outside of my vaginal area. The letter reads, "Stevie, It was nice to hear your soft sexy voice whispering those tantalizing words 'Kiss me'. As you can see I may never  have  seen  you  nude  but  my  pencil  and  imagination  try  to  fill in  the exquisitely beautiful details. . . . There can be no disappointment for me  because you enchanted my mind first. Anything else would be extra. Your voice is incredible to listen to. . . . you do get my juices flowing. . . . Love Michael"

I had blacked out most of Michael's picture, to protect his privacy, but it appears that he is deceased, based on my research, for this blog post. So, I replaced the altered version of the photo with the original one, showing his full face, that I so wish I could hold in my hands and kiss. His handwriting was the absolute worst I have ever seen, and is a real challenge to read! But, because, I read so many of  his letters to me, over the years, I can read it fairly well at this point. Only a few words, have, forever, remained, indiscernible! I was flattered, and honored, that he thought enough of me to SHOW me what HE saw in me. When someone puts themselves out there, like that, taking a real risk, to SHOW ME, what I mean, to them, through whatever efforts they make, on my behalf, it can cause me to see them as being very endearing, attractive, or sexy. Unless, or until, they show me disrespect, pissing me off then. You can BE SURE that someone DOES NOT CARE ABOUT YOU, if they do things like, throw you under the bus, to make themselves look better at your expense, show no regard for your reputation or your feelings, or falsely accuse you of things. Michael had too much class, and intelligence, and love in his heart, to ever treat me those ways. He stands tallest in my eyes, over any man that I have ever met. If I could pick, one, man to live my life with, from all the men I have known, it would be Michael. No doubt in my mind or hesitancy in my heart; only it's too late now. All indications are he's gone. He was the best!                                                                                                                                                                                                            "October 19, 1989

Dear Stevie

        I still have not gotten over the soft sexy sound of your voice when you answered the telephone, especially after you told me why [I used to masturbate using a feather pillow, by scrunching it up until I connected with that 'sweet spot']. Never thought I would be jealous of a big pillow with kiss marks and a sexual fragrance. . . . 

        If I did not say so very well I am very impressed with your strength and persistence in a very bad situation. Not only are you a beautiful woman but a very strong determined one -- a little bit of 'iron magnolia' maybe, in a nice way. . . . I enjoy our communications, you excite every time. . . . I must see you. Love Michael"

[NOTE: Michael and I met right after I remarried Tom, and then, stayed in touch, from then on, with most of the years being when I was divorced and single again. I did not have any illusions when I remarried Tom after seeing how he was in our first marriage to one another. He didn't want a wife. He needed a mother, as well as a military dependent, which would allow him to move out of the barracks into nice, new, family housing on base. I had two very short, and virtually nonsexual, marriages, to this boy, who refused, to become a man. Tom had pretended to be more responsible, to convince me to come back, to him, and then not long after, he reverted back to how he was, in our first marriage. I never slept with Michael, but we had a strong sexual chemistry, from the moment we met, and all I was to Tom was his 'ticket' to the benefits, he wanted, so he could make his life, as easy as possible, for himself; and a homemaker. Tom was, technically 'married', to me, twice, but was never, really, a husband to me, at all. He told me he had changed, and was finally more responsible in how he handled his finances and managed his life, but it was not true. Tom was also physically abusive to me, striking out at me because I expected basic things from him. He was arrested for that, once, while I was at Fort Drum, with him, in this remarriage. Michael, refers to some of this, in his letters to me. While, no physical abuse should ever go on, in a marriage, Tom was much 'milder' in doing that to me, than my final husband, Mark, who abused me, in every way, shape, and form that one could imagine, and did it continually, exhausting me, from that, until, I lost my will to live, at one point. So, if I do not sound like 'the devoted wife', to Tom, I wasn't, because we never really had what two adults would consider to be a marriage to one another. We had a boy and his babysitter. I have written blog posts, about Tom, in the past, if you want to learn more about this, ridiculous, relationship. I gave him a second chance. I shouldn't have. I learned my lesson, with that. If someone does not do what it takes to co-create, a happy, healthy, relationship, with you, all along, then, they, never will.]

                                              Miscellaneous Men                                                                                

I have no idea at all where I met Dennis, but he wrote me a very touching poem. On a small, torn, piece of paper that's now yellowed with age, he wrote: "Debbie

As I sit in this lonely room, thinking of the evening past;

a pencil I hold in my hand, my feelings I try to grasp.

How lucky a man would be, to feel a love such as yours;

To say I love you, I need you, I want you, to feel how outwardly it pours.

Oh, to feel a love, with so much passion, so much power;

would be to walk in Spring, to smell the freshly blossemed flower.

To feel that innacient love, so pure with always a surprise;

To be loved by the girl with the smile, and the Puppy dog eyes.

                                                                     Dennis"

I think it is so sweet, that he took the time, and put alot of thought into writing that, just for me! I transcribed it, exactly as he wrote it; spelling errors and all.

Another really caring guy named Chad wrote me a letter. He apparently lived in Ohio, but traveled to Omaha for his job in the insurance industry. Omaha is the location of the headquarters of some of the largest insurance companies in the U.S. It was written on Mutual of Omaha stationery. He wrote, "Dear Debbie, Im back in Toledo Ohio. I do want to say that I enjoyed the time we spent together.    I wish that there was more that I could have said or done to ease your pain. Im Hoping over the next month or so to get to know you better and Im really looking forward to being with you again in the spring. My week was a very boring one until that nite I met you, I just wished that I could have met you sooner. You are a very warm and understanding person, one I truely would like to get to know alot better. I kinda wished I could have been all those things you where looking for. I know you would be a very special person to be in love with. I'll be praying every nite hoping you'll find your someone but, until then remember you'll always have me. Always Chad"

I LOVE letters like that! I don't know where, or how, I met him, or if we did ever meet again. Some of these things, that these men wrote to me, to express their feelings about me, are several decades old, now. 

In an envelope postmarked APR 24 1989, addressed to me, as 'Stevie' (the alias I went by, for most of the time that I was a dancer in the nightclubs), in care of the Twenties Night Club, another man, that worked for a different insurance company, typed out a letter to me, on that company's letterhead:

"Dearest Stevie:

     I thought I'd better write you today just in case you might forget me in a few days (I'd hope you wouldn't).

     I was just logging some information into me computer and thought I'd just drop you a line to say hello.

     I really did enjoy talking to you saturday night and learning to know more about you. You are one classy and beautiful woman! I wish we could have had more time to talk, it seemed like the time flew when I was in there. I wish I could have standed until closing but I didn't want to bother you anymore that night. I couldn't get over how sincerly honest and warm you were . . . . . . . . . . the world would be much better off with more people like you in the world. 

     You mentioned how much you would like to be married and have a home life, so many women these days are so interested in ONLY a career and themselves it is refreshing to find a woman like you!

     I do hope this letter gets to you and that I spelled your name correctly.

     The last couple of days I was hoping that you believed what I told you and that I wasn't just ' another one of those guys who try to hit on you'. I was completely sober so I did know what I was saying and I do hope that you did and do believe me. That's why I wanted to write to you as soon as possible so you didn't think I was just like the rest. 

     Please do feel free to call me sometime, it would be very nice surprise.

     Take care Stevie, keep smilin and I'll be thinking of you!

     (he signed it in ink:)         A friend,

                                           Steve [U]" 

[NOTE: Based on his last name, which I withhold, to protect peoples' privacy, he owned the insurance company, because his name matches that of the agency.] I don't know if I ever got to talk with him again. I met and talked to so many men.

Here's a sweet-but-still-creepy letter, to me, in an envelope postmarked 22 MAR 1989. It's addressed to me at my home (apartment) address! It is handwritten:

                                                                                                     "3/21/89

Dear Deborah,

     Please don't think I'm some kind of nut (great opening line huh?). In fact I have never done anything like this before in my life. I remembered your address from your check, not really intentionally but because it is so close to mine. [NOTE: MY address was 2235 ST Marys at that time and his address on the envelope was 1001 Park Ave, so they are NOT AT ALL CLOSE TO MATCHING.] 

     After talking to you at the store [where apparently I paid by check and he took my personal information, from that check and wrote me this letter; which is all very inappropriate] and then coming to see you at the club, I've come to the conclusion that you are one of the most interesting people I've met in a very long time. But like I said, I'm more interested in the person I met in the store, The one you said was the 'real you'. She's the one I'd like to get to know.

     I guess I'm writing because I'm afraid I won't see you again in the store, and the atmosphere at the club doesn't really lend itself to sincerity. I mean you probably get 20 guys a week telling you 'You're the most interesting girl I've ever met'.

     There's a song I really like by the Smithereens called 'Behind The Wall Of Sleep'. The lyrics seem very appropriate, so I'll share them with you:

     Now I know I'm one of many

     who would like to be your friend

     But I've got to find a way

     to let you know I'm not like them

     By the way I should tell you, you really are a different person at the club. I believe and put much stock in vibes or auras or whatever you want to call it. And yours were very different Monday as compared to Tuesday. Monday you were very sweet, very open, Tuesday I could actually feel the defensive wall around you even though you were talking intimately with me. Also, Monday you seemed almost innocent and vulnerable, that why I found it hard to believe you were a dancer. I think your ability to change roles like that intrigues me even more.

     Well I guess I'll close now. My address is on the envelope,  my phone is listed with directory and you know where I work if you're interested. If you're not you may toss this away without concern, it was just something I felt compelled to do. And really ad truly I have never written to almost a complete stranger before. 

                                                                                Kyle [N]"

[NOTE: It was interesting to me to read a description from someone saying that they could really see the difference, between 'Deborah', and 'Stevie', my dancer alias/alter ego/stage persona. I've described in previous blog posts how I had to learn how to do that, drastic, change, in demeanor, to be able to do the job of a stage entertainer in a thong bikini, etc. I liked so many attributes of my 'Stevie' side that I have kept 'her' with me to this very day. On any given day, someone may be interacting with me as 'Deb', my sweet and gentler self, or they may be engaged with 'Stevie',  who 'takes no prisoners',  and holds her own, no matter who, she is dealing with. One, of the reasons, I would REALLY ENJOY, having, a romantic relationship (although, I have, ABSOLUTELY, NO DESIRE, to, EVER, be MARRIED again, in my life, at this point) is that, I like doing role play; morphing into a wide range of personas, each with unique attributes. That's so fun to me!] 

On a yellowed piece of notebook paper, Ron wrote me a letter. There's no date. I think it may be the friend of mine who was a hospital (patient) escort, that I met in the hospital we worked in, when I was in nursing. That Ron was a really sweet guy, but he had a crush on me, and would get really upset, with me, and moody, because I didn't like him back, romantically, which strained our friendship. A cute guy, Ron just wasn't what I wanted, in, an intimate, relationship. We would go do things together as friends at times, though. He had a sweet, sensitive, spirit, but he was far too fragile for me. He was more of a boy than a man. I wanted a man.

Ron wrote--

"Debby: 

I'm sorry I pissed you off. I hope your feelings were not hurt. I hope you realize that I didn't mean to make you mad. Sometimes I guess I get too wrapped up in my own head. Trying to figure out myself and my feelings for myself. Thats what I was doing today. Maybe I should pay more attention to the feelings of people close to me. Maybe I should express my feelings instead of keeping them hidden inside of me. I know I don't say it alot, but you really are the sweetest, warmest, most caring person I know. And you are a very pretty lady. I'm sorry I'm this way. It's something that has bothered me for a long time. I want to change, but don't quite know what to do. I hope you accept my apology. I thank you for all the things you have done for me, you have been a true inspiration. I will always have a special place in my heart for you.                                                                                          

                                                    Love. Ron 

P.S. - You're a very sexy woman also."

 

>sigh<

Valentine's Day is in two days, and just like, it seems to be, every year, for me, I have no one special in my life, to give that any real, romantic, meaning. As I pop candy hearts into my mouth as a very unhealthy comfort food, to console myself while there are no knocks at my door delivering flowers, and no candlelight meal,  I'll watch Hallmark movies, where love triumphs over all and culminates in a kiss.

At least Amazon sells vibrators.

We human beings are complicated creatures. Therefore, our feeling, or finding, love, can be quite complicated. My best, physical, relationship has been with a piece of plastic that I ordered online. It is both intimate and impersonal, at the same time. There are pros and cons to almost everything in life, and this is no exception.  I had to learn all about the eye-opening array of available sex toys. The 'lover' in my bed is a piece of plastic, that I turn on, but with the push of a button. It touches my body, but it doesn't come equipped to look into my eyes  and tell me that it loves me above all others on the earth. There are no mutual expressions of affection, verbally or physically. I can't lie there and listen to its heartbeat, because it doesn't have a heart. It just vibrates, at different speeds.  These helpful, and even gratifying, gadgets, are something that I am extremely pleased to have, however, as a, viable, alternative. Without them, it would be a very long, 'dry', spell, since, I remain celibate, and I have been so for 25 years.

It is what it is.

 

Happy Valentine's Day to all of my blog readers in 62 countries around the world!

                    

* 'Miranda' was a different dancer alias I was using at the time because I have a sense of humor and it was funny to me to introduce myself to club customers as "Miranda Wright" and have them say to me, "Wow! You might not KNOW this but that is like 'miranda rights' that the cops say to people they're arresting like, 'You have the right to remain silent.' and stuff." Specifically because I was working as an undercover informant, for the Omaha Police Department, which was a strange motivation behind my involving myself in prostitution in the first place, I went by that name, during that timeframe.

** Looking Glass - https://medium.com/exploring-history/operation-looking-glass-americas-terrifying-doomsday-plane-eca1bcb4765f and https://nuke.fas.org/guide/usa/c3i/ec-135.htm  

*** Jim was the 2nd Lieutenant that I was completely in love with, who was still stationed at Keesler AFB in Biloxi MS, when I got orders to report to Offutt AFB in Nebraska, where Mark met me. Jim became my second husband, is my son's father, and is the same man that I wrote several blog posts about being "the one man that I would love forever". Jim was also the ONLY man that I had sex with when I was in the service.