"You will always have a lot of friends!" . . .

When I changed schools, in 7th grade, on the cusp of becoming a teenager, later on that year, I entered, the most self-conscious years, of my life. I started taking stock of my impact on the environment that I found myself in, at this junior high school. Realizing, I had to make a conscious choice to project myself to others in some favorable light, to have any chance of attaining the popularity, with people, that is so coveted, at that age, I disciplined myself to display a few very carefully chosen personality traits, and let everything else fall by the wayside as far as my self-expressiveness. This was the threshold of the awkward, teenage time of life, when others' perceptions, about us, were everything, to my age group; including me. I was, too cerebral, too much of a bookworm (even, wearing glasses, which, seemed to emphasize the point), to come anywhere near the orbit of the popular clique of kids. That was fine with me; but I knew I could do better than I was, as far as finding my place in the planetary placement of popularity with my peers. I was stuck somewhere in the middle of the peer-reviewed rankings, that are such  a crucial measuring stick, for our self-esteem, at that tender, and overly anxious, age. While I wasn't invisible to my age group, by any means, socially speaking, I just wasn't showing my best self, or shining my light in the situation, as they say.

Alot, of that, had to do with the uncertainty, I felt, from my upbringing. Standing out or speaking up, as I was growing up in my family, seemed to simply earn me  unwanted responses, that taught me, it was safer to hide myself in the shadows, as much as possible, than try to shine, and be censored, or even struck, for that. Instead of, being allowed, to grapple with my own identity, and in doing so, build better social skills, and gain more confidence in my ability to interact with others, my struggles to grow into my self often got me criticism, chastisement, and even corporal punishment. I was taught that, I was to be seen and not heard; that my opinions or ideas had no place and no value, and expressing them was not worth risking the swift, and harsh, response, from my dad, in particular. I lived much of my home life as a child trying to shrink into the shadows, in order to avoid, even, accidentally, encountering, my father's critical, disapproving, scowl; and his ire. I was definitely not raised to show up and shine. In all those 18 formative years of  my childhood I was very rarely praised for any positive attributes, or skills, that I possessed. I wasn't really interacted with much at all, by my father, unless it was to scold or spank me for something. I was not a bad child so it seeded a seething anger in me that the only attention my father took time, and trouble, to give me, was to drive home his point that I was somehow a disappointment, to him, which deserved only his discipline and never his affirmation. I learned that, as long as I simply suffered silently, so that, I did not interrupt, his, constant, TV watching, or intrude, on his naps, that he took on the couch, while his TV shows droned on, in the background, that I was, allowed, to exist; but that was about all. He spanked me once for daring to change the channel, on the TV, to watch something else, as  he lay there asleep. As soon as I had switched it over he woke and expressed not just annoyance, but extreme anger, and hostility, at me, for my doing that, 'in his house'. Apparently, I was only an intruder, in that place; an obviously unwelcome guest, he was, resentfully, hosting. I spent my entire childhood, walking on eggs, around this terrifying tyrant. There was no way to flourish, while shrinking myself down, desperately trying to survive what was my everyday existence in his house.

Mothers have the larger load to carry, in the vast majority of homes, it seems. My mother was a wife, a schoolteacher (for most of my childhood) and the mother of 4 kids. To make communication, with her, even more difficult, for me, aside from, her busyness, my mother, who had once been, 'my hero', in our home life, whom  I adored, and had even emulated, as a very little girl, became, what I would only understand decades later as being, increasingly, narcissistic, as the years passed; to the point that she eventually became so treacherous, and toxic, toward me, as her scapegoat, that I finally had to go No Contact with her and maintain that very painful decision, instead of backtracking, any more than the, several, times that I had already risked that, over the years, in the hopes that we could find some way to have a mutually enjoyable, and healthy, relationship, with one another. >sigh<

As a girl on the brink of my womanhood with all the bewildering things happening to me, at that age, I tried to talk to her, at times, about things I was thinking and feeling, in this particular year of my life, when I stood a head taller than the boys in my class, and was taking alot of teasing for that, from other kids. But, if, in my normal, understandable, teenage angst, I sounded remotely, frustrated, or upset, about what I was struggling to say, to her, to try to get her to understand, and to feel what I was feeling, at that very vulnerable age, my dad would swoop into the scene and spank me. He did that up until this very age, that I am describing now, when he finally stopped hitting me at least, when he so took me by surprise, with that last physical assault on my behind, that I peed on his hand as he hit me, and fled the room, in humiliation, leaving a puddle of my urine, on the floor. It's also a really bad message to receive as a child, about your worth in this world, when the only time your father even acknowledges you, or ever touches you, at all, is when he scolds you or strikes you. My crime, that he felt, warranted that last assault? I had been sharing my frustrations, with my mom, about the fact that I didn't have any outfits that were on trend like the other girls were wearing, and as a result of them reacting to that unfavorably, by 'judging a book by its cover', which this age group is particularly known for doing, toward one another, I was experiencing alot of trouble being accepted and fitting in, because that made me stand out as being too different, from them. In other words, I had been expressing something that is a, very typical, teenage, emotion. I was struggling, to express these things, to my mother, when my father physically attacked me for it. Instead of being empathetic or supportive or helpful, he had chosen to punish me, for expressing these things. It was not something that, I deserved to be struck for feeling, by my father. Being a teenager, it was, difficult, enough, to feel positive about my self-image, to begin with, as my body began changing, so rapidly, blooming, into womanhood, without my emotional compass for navigating all these increasing complexities of life, as a female, on this planet, being further, and erroneously, skewed by my father acting as if I were a terrible human being, for expressing, normal, fear, and frustration. I wasn't doing well, with all the changes, and demands, life, was giving me, to have to deal with, and I didn't have anyone in the family, being a, sympathetic, support system to help me get through it and come out on the other side feeling confident about my identity, as 'me'. The unique individual God created and called me to be.

I was on the cusp of my teenage years, then. Recently, I just turned 66 years old. These experiences, and the memories they leave behind, in our psyche, stay with us, for our lifetime. Below is a post I put on Facebook, this year (just last month), where I am sharing, some of the results of this, that I, still, live with, to this day:

Some of these things are still a real challenge for me. I was raised to not have or speak with a voice of my own. So, it does not come naturally, or comfortably, for me, and my success at speaking up and speaking out varies widely. It doesn't help that most people aren't comfortable hearing the truth, or even anything else, that they don't want to hear, and it can leave me feeling the brunt of their hostility toward me, for saying what I do, when I do, even if it was warranted, proper, and healthy, given the situation or conversation between us. >sigh!< Humans are MY HARDEST THING to DEAL with. I often wonder if it is really alot easier for OTHER people; and if THEY feel SAFE, ACCEPTED, RESPECTED, and LOVED, by other humans. Honestly, I rarely do. It is SCARY for me and HARD for me. I truly TRY MY BEST, but humans are often so stressful for me to try to interact with that I usually avoid doing it, at all costs, about 99% of the time. Social media masks that, for me, in that I can post things that resonate with me, in some way, that still aren't exactly the same as me PUTTING MYSELF OUT THERE. My family of origin wasn't a safe place for me, mentally or emotionally, and sometimes, physically. So, I wasn't taught that people are SAFE for me to interact with and engage in relationships with. It is just so hard, for me. I just know that I want REAL, TRUE, CARING, connections, with people, and can just be myself, and feel like that's alright; that's enough; that's ACCEPTABLE. That's all I can really bring to the table, anyway, is myself. But, we live in a world, now, that can be so superficial. It's like JUNK FOOD for THE SOUL, in alot of ways. I don't come away feeling truly seen, or heard, or cared about. I just accept that, because the way I see it, at least I didn't get DAMAGED MORE BY PEOPLE. (Hopefully, anyway.) We should be such a source of joy and support, for one another. Loving our neighbor as we love ourselves. But, that thing they teach us-- TREAT OTHERS AS YOU WANT TO BE TREATED-- NEVER REALLY WORKS WELL for me. At all! I must be MISSING something. . . . I really don't know. I just know that human relationships OFTEN DON'T FEEL 'SAFE' for me. It is REALLY HARD. - Deborah

Alot of introspection, alone in my room, along with an old library book that I read, on how to be considered charming, was what, did help me, all those years ago, to develop some 'survival' strategies, for how to get through that pivotal year, in my life, in a much more successful way than I was doing by simply staying helplessly adrift as I was, always at the mercy of others, and their, sometimes, cold or cruel comments about one another, of which I was one of the targets. I wanted to stop whatever waves of others' opinions had been buffeting me about, in these murky waters of peer popularity. I wouldn't have known how to express this, then, but I wanted to develop some proactive personal power, to secure a higher standing in the pecking order, of peer popularity.  Since, I was spending the large majority of my childhood hidden away behind the closed door to my bedroom, which brought me more peace and protection, for my soul, all alone, in my room, away from the rest of my family, who weren't, accepting, affirming, or affectionate, toward me, I didn't try out any of my new traits, on them, that I was, consciously developing. I remained the same person I had been, at home, in order to continue hiding in the shadows as much as I possibly could. I had learned, along the way, that my dad's attention would only be harsh, critical, or punitive, if I was the recipient, of it, so I did all I could to avoid him, at all costs, My mother's hostile narcissism caused me to avoid interactions with her, all I could, also. I didn't know that her behavior had a name, and that it was that, at the time. I didn't know anything about narcissists selecting a scapegoat, to target, either-- someone that they resented, because, in a sick way, they, actually, admired, that person, for some of their qualities-- which the narcissist doesn't have; and feeling insecure in comparison to them, they seek to bring that, targeted, person down to their own level, if not, totally destroy, that person (which, was me, in my mom's case). I only knew that, I was being singled out, and victimized, by her, and it left me feeling, sad, and scared. I needed to be affirmed, by my mother, not undermined. Especially, during those most vulnerable years I was growing up, when being deprived of healthy relationships and positive interactions can scar someone, for life, damaging, them, irrevocably; as it did me.

 

I began to be laser-focused, on my new personality, I was consciously cultivating, when I was away from home, such as at school, or on church youth retreats, and so forth. My mother dropped me off, at the junior high school, on her way to the, elementary, school, that she taught at, and in between getting out of the car and reaching the entrance door of the school I quickly shed my 'home self', switching to my 'school self'. No longer, being, the introverted, stay-under-the-radar, self, I emerged, in a split second, on the other side of that door, as an outgoing, upbeat and confident girl. It was a case of 'fake it 'til you make it' as I began, trying out, the advice, and strategies, that I had learned, from the library book I read. I was surprised, and gratified, by how well those teachings worked, for me! Virtually all my classmates began to respond to me positively, and affirmatively. I did not get into the 'popular kids' clique (to be honest, I never even wanted to be with those highly superficial, snobby, people) but, even they began to give me their respect, however grudging, it may have been. Teachers consistently called on me in class, and I became known as one of the smartest kids in the class. I excelled, in many areas, and my confidence grew. I was still myself but I had found a way to be my best self and the results of that were rewarding. Guys in my class asked me to go steady with them-- even though I still stood a head taller than almost all of them. I approached everything, and everyone, with a positive outlook, when I was away from my family; where staying alone in my room in as much obscurity as possible seemed like my only hope for survival, in that, very-loveless-feeling, environment.

I was finally getting the acceptance and affirmation from others I was starving for but that I wasn't ever getting from anyone at home. In gym class, the girls would grumble, about having to exercise, or play volleyball, and then be sweaty, for the rest of the day. I stood there, and stood out, as being the one that had a smile on my face though, no matter what was asked of us by our gym teacher, and to do it with, enthusiasm, and supportiveness, of the teacher, and the other students. We had a student teacher that year, as well, who was working on his teaching degree under the training of the school's coach who was, also, our 'Phys Ed' teacher. One day in gym class, as this young man looked out at the lines of girls standing there in formation in the gym, waiting to begin to exercise under his direction, he called out my 'good attitude', in front of, all of those assembled peers, of mine. He could clearly see each of our faces, as he stood before us, and apparently, mine was the only one that appeared anywhere near reflecting positivity about our having to do calisthenics. His, making an example out of me, and me alone, to this entire class caused one of my best friends to get so mad at me, for what she perceived as me making them all look bad, that she actually slapped me in the face, when we went to the locker room, to retrieve our books, for our next class. It shocked me, that I had raised her insecurities that much, when my only intent was simply to alleviate my own, by new behaviors. She was constantly teased, more than most girls, so I sympathized with her, chose to just turn the other cheek (as I hoped she wouldn't slap that one, too), and I let it go, because she had never done anything like that, to me, before, and as I expected, especially when, I was 'the bigger person' about it, in front of our peers, she never did it again. She had developed early, and fully, into a very-grown-woman's body shape, and was not only, tall, but, 'a big girl', as well. She had red hair that drew even more attention to her body, and earned her the nickname, 'Big Red'. It was not the most flattering nickname, to be given to a young girl, that was barely into her teens; by her peers. It had to be hard for her, getting through childhood, when she was still just a very insecure child trapped in a voluptuously developed body that she didn't know how to receive, this early on.

I felt better than I had, toward myself, at least, at school, while she still felt badly about herself, so she suddenly felt very threatened by me. My trying to become a better 'me', wasn't about 'showing her up', by my 'showing off', though, or things like that. I wasn't trying to be egotistical, at all; I was, aiming for, confident. I left the locker room, before she did, without causing any scene, about her hitting me, or, snitching, to the student teacher/coach-in-training. Some other girl apparently told him about it, when she left the gym, though, so, he asked me, about it. I told him, things were okay, that it was no big deal; that she was a friend of mine, who was just having a bad day apparently. He looked at me with such an expression of glowing affirmation, even admiration, due to my always having a positive attitude, and he said something, to me, that day, before I left the gym, which I have never forgotten-- both, because it was the very affirmation that I was starving for, in my life, and because, as life went on, and I grew up, and went out into this world, as, an adult, his words would come back to me, many times, over the years, to haunt me, and to taunt me, even, to this very day. He said, to me, "You will always have alot of friends!" He wasn't, consoling me, about the, literal, slap in the face by 'Big Red'. He was, telling me that, my positive, confident, personality, attributes, that I had worked, so hard, on developing, that year, to make my life, and relationships, happier, would, in themselves, assure me of having alot of favor with other people in my life, who would, also, admire, these attributes. Clearly, as I would learn, the hard way, after becoming an adult female, on this planet, this young man was not aware of the way that this would really play itself out, for me, as a grown woman.

Carolyn's slap in the face in junior high school, was going to prove to be my, first, experience of, the reality, of how resentful, other women would be, of my, bubbly, confident, personality traits. I would later learn that, men, would react differently to it, in ways, that were, almost always, sexual. Including, married men. It was a very frustrating situation, for me, to deal with, at times! To this day, I have never found the way to allow myself the freedom of expression to, just, be my best self, without my doing so, attracting frequently problematic thoughts and behaviors of both women and men. Even though, those are, very different ones, depending on the gender, they make my life, more difficult, and distressing, for me, either way. Just to clarify this, on a deeper level, I do also retain those 'social skills', shall we say, that I developed for my alter ego, persona, 'Stevie' when I became a dancer, but those are a set of extremely extroverted traits, along with, the flirty tone, but it includes lots of sexual innuendo, interspersed in all that; which, was necessary, for me to be able to do my job, well, while working in those nightclubs. Frankly, I was flexing those attributes again, only a couple of days ago, as I interacted with some guys on a social media site on Valentine's Day. I don't personally know any of these guys, that I was 'shamelessly' flirting with. It was just, fun! For all of us, it seemed. The day, specifically celebrating romantic love bonds between couples, can get alot of people down. I LOVE being single, but the mood, online, from alot of other people, led me to believe that, I could lift some spirits, by showing them, the compliment of flirting with them; so I did. It was lighthearted sexually-tinged playtime, for us! I even had one guy, who I only know from this website, but who has become very dear to me, over the years we've interacted on this site, tell me at the end of our typed out torrent of tweets, that, my flirting, had made his day!

Below, are some of these posts, that were flying back and forth, between me and him and other responders to it. It is how I am when I am being much more of my 'Stevie' self, than my 'Deborah' self. Although, I haven't worked in a nightclub, for 25 years or so, now, I still, do some of my 'Stevie' dance moves, dancing around, my home, for an exercise session, after, I've been sitting, for too long, or frankly, to let off some of my pent up sexual steam. I may be older, but I'm not dead yet! These, are examples, of my, adult, adapted, personality traits that I enjoy flexing when I'm given the freedom to do so, in an interaction with another adult. I enjoy it, as harmless fun, but, I have to shut it down, if it causes misunderstandings, of my intentions, in the relationship. Some people say, there is no such thing as just a little harmless flirting. I don't agree, but maybe, that is because, I KNOW that I am, extremely, happy, being SINGLE, after too many HUGE disappointments, with men, and I am, also, CELIBATE, for decades, now, in fact, so, I am not looking for any serious or sexual relationship with anyone. [I just ordered myself some, new, sex toys, as well, which, I hope, will help to address the lack of circulation, that is contributing to my vaginal atrophy, which is a medically diagnosed condition, that  I have had, for the, last few years. My gynecologist (a female), was the one, who told me that this condition would get worse if I did not stimulate blood flow in the vaginal walls. During my pelvic exam, she said that, it looked, very pale, in there, showing the lack of, oxygenated blood, circulating in this area of my body. I take, all of my health issues, very seriously. As a celibate, I needed, to order the toys.] My going to great lengths to help meet my body's, normal, needs, is more proof, that I DO NOT WANT and AM NOT LOOKING FOR a MAN, to be in my life! That is, therefore, also proof that my fun-loving side is showing because I am HAPPY, not because I am HORNY, for a man. These, therapy, toys, that I have gotten, have a twofold health benefit for me. They stimulate blood flow, and sometimes give me an orgasm, as well. My vaginal atrophy is often painful so, alot of the time, it just hurts, and I have to, get through it, for the sake of, stimulating, blood circulation.

 

I, currently, have, only, 5 friends, on one social media site that I don't feel free to really fully express myself on, as the, multi-faceted, woman that I, actually, am. I feel, anxious, boxed in, careful, cautious, reigned in, tense, when I'm posting and interacting on this site. These 5 friends are also people that I actually know in my life. They know me as Deborah; as a neighbor, a Christian, and former co-worker, in a mall retail setting. They're, real-life friends, some old, and some new. I know that I can't, really, ever be, ALL THAT I AM, around them. So, I feel frustrated, at times, and constricted, which is not fun, or freeing, for me. I'm not relaxed, like I would like to be in all of my personal relationships. I'm not being fake, with them. They DO KNOW a VERY REAL PART of ME. I just can't show or share ALL of who I am, with them, for various reasons. It would shock the 'Christian' friends and my former, retail sales, co-worker, because they ONLY know me as a woman of Faith, and a decent human being, who is very caring, and has conservative values (like,  I don't smoke, or do drugs, and I haven't been a drinker for decades now). Those female neighbors, might rethink allowing me into their lives, if they started to see me as a threat (although, I don't want, who, and what, they have!), and the male neighbor is someone I just recently met, whom I have gone WAY OUT OF MY WAY WITH, as I do with ALL of the new men, that I meet, to BE SURE that HE KNOWS, without, any, doubt, that I am, VERY HAPPILY SINGLE, and am NOT looking for, or wanting, ANY man, in my life. I even go to extremes, with making SURE that they KNOW that, when we first meet, because I have learned, in my life, that men only hear what they want to hear, and take that as simply being a challenge, that I am giving them, to overcome, rather than JUST ACCEPT IT, because I am, TRULY NOT INTERESTED, in that, with them. The male ego, just can't seem to accept the fact that, a female, has, every right, to NOT, have them, in her life, or, her bed, or, her body. I have found that, I have to pound that into their brains, before they accept it, to the point that, it really turns them off, toward me (THANK YOU! That's WHAT I WANTED TO HAPPEN!). I have also learned that I can't really show my flirty side to, many, men, even, at my age, because EVEN WHEN I EXPLAIN TO THEM, that I DON'T WANT THEM, that it's just a FUN SIDE OF ME, flexing, they take it to heart, too much, and it, undermines, the actual, friendship, which, is what, I truly value, with them. So, in real life, I usually can't have too much fun, for too long, before I have to SHUT IT DOWN, because, it starts to undermine the actual relationship, in problematic ways. >sigh!< Bummer. It prevents me from enjoying my freedom to be myself, fully, with the very people that, I often, feel the most comfortable with.

Here's those tweets, I was talking about, earlier, that I didn't put here sooner due to digressing; although that was still on the subject at hand which is: Why it is so complicated, so much of the time, for me to have fun, and fulfilling, relationships? Interestingly, I currently have 521 followers, on this, social media site, versus the website where I only have 5, right now, and that I can't stand being on, because I feel like, I'm stuffed down into a, very tight, box, of who I am allowed to, actually, be, on that site, even though, my friends, DO CARE ABOUT ME, that are on there. The difference? I don't, personally, know ANY of the people on the site that I have alot more followers, so I am not, intimidated, by any of them, or their opinions, of me, which could cause me to decide to hide, a part of, my, multi-dimensional, self. I am FREE TO BE ME, whatever that is moment to moment. I'm extremely eclectic so even though I am expressing my true self at any given time, it is only one part of me. I cannot possibly display all aspects of me, at all times, because I am such a diversified personality! I live with me, so I understand me, but I can often seem like an enigma to others, especially when they feel a need to pigeonhole me, or to put me in some, simple, straightforward box, that, they feel, can contain all that I am. Quite simply, that would be impossible, in my case. It can be a real challenge for me to accomplish! I am struggling, to explain that, about me, even writing this post! I am so simple, yet completely complicated. I am, often, not what I seem to be, WHATEVER THAT IS, at the time, even though, I am still, being me. I am very spiritual, but I also openly express myself in sexual terms; even though I am both a celibate and a Christian; who loved being an exotic dancer in the nightclubs and who often tells God, that, if I had not, finally, aged out of, that profession, I would love to still be doing it, because, I enjoyed it so much. The freedom of expression! I wear glasses, and love to read books, but, I learned to dance hip-hop moves, by watching YouTube videos-- in, my mid-60s! I'm somewhat shy, and very outgoing.

I'm fairly funny, and deadly serious. Charming, and cold. Always, I am, just, 'me'. 

On that thought: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lLurue51jfQ Oh, Hell, yeah! THIS, is, my, theme song, now.-- my rallying cry! This song, really does it for me.

              Some of my Valentine's Day tweets (recipients names removed)

I think of you often. I send you tweets to try to console you and bring you a smile or laugh. I love you! For whatever it's worth I get to go through a 2/13 birthday and 2/14 Valentine's Day double whammy every year that always tells me alot about where I stand with people 

[NOTE: That female friend was sad that people weren't showing their love for her on this poignantly important, special day, that so emphasizes, romantic, love. People, who don't have that, in their lives, or are single because they escaped abusive and narcissistic partners, like this lady, and I, can feel deprived and excluded and unlovable, if we let ourselves go there. She allowed the sadness to overtake her, and I have too, other times. This time, I chose to ENJOY Valentine's Day, by letting my sensuality AND sense of humor out to play, online, just to let off some sexual steam that's been pent up in me, ALOT, lately, and CELEBRATE the truth-- for ME-- that, all things considered, I am GLAD EVERY SINGLE DAY that I do NOT HAVE A MAN IN MY LIFE! I'M MUCH HAPPIER THIS WAY!]  

I liked it. I've learned some hip-hop dance moves from YouTube and used them to dance to the songs in the [2/13/22 Super Bowl] Halftime Show, in my livingroom, plus picked up a few new moves from the performers in the show! Kicked off my warm-but-awkward scuffy slippers, and got down!

LOL! Sounds like LOVE IS IN THE AIR, Vegas style, mingled with some other assorted scents.

Aw, THANK YOU! My kidding around and laughing is my BEST form of STRESS RELIEF through all this CRAP that I can't control in the micro and macro of my life. But, I TRULY DO NEED a HUG-- DESPERATELY-- but am too terrified of the pandemic (tho vaxed) to RISK GETTING ONE HUG.

Maybe it's just me, or my mood, tonight, but I started laughing so hard when I saw this! Who KNEW the Rapture would take place via a pizza delivery vehicle? At LEAST you got FOREWARNED. I always heard that WOULDN'T HAPPEN, with the Rapture!

LOL!!! When I saw this from you, I just started laughing so hard my shoulders were shaking up and down. I hate to say it, but based on everything you have told me . . . THIS IS SO 'YOU'! I am SMILING SO BIG right now! I REALLY needed a GOOD LAUGH like THIS today! THANK YOU!

I'm blue-eyed too, just no longer brunette-- all gray now (after a 'Do blonds have more fun?' phase-- which they don't! LOL) I have been so hungry since your pic: Did you make bruschetta for your sourdough bread? I WANT IT SO MUCH!!! Being single, I can eat ALL the GARLIC I want!

There is nothing better in this world than homemade, fresh-baked bread! I'm sitting here trying to imagine the smell of your artisan bread baking. Ummm! Not just Charcuterie, but CHEF! I'm impressed! (And HUNGRY now-- THANKS ALOT!)

So, on Valentine's Day, you can honestly say, now, that you showed me your stuff, and made my mouth water. You left me feeling hungry, and wanting it so bad! LOL! Way to go!

Perhaps his LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG table-- MUCH LONGER than ANYONE ELSE'S-- is his way of doing PENILE PROJECTION, rather than "poison projection". Just sayin'. The whole, I'm BIGGER and LONGER than YOU, thing, MAN TO MAN.

You KNOW the VERY 1ST THING I ADORED about you when we met here was your sense of humor! We both had SO MUCH FUN with our back and forth banter the first day our Tweets somehow connected us here and we started kidding back and forth. I didn't know u r Aquarius 2 'til my bday tho.

HEY! We MAY BE old by the world's standards but we BOTH know we're STILL VERY MUCH ALIVE! Oh yeah, we are! I NEVER KNEW 'TIL I got to be this age (since it's ALL NEW TO ME), I REALLY AM the SAME woman I was 20-30 YRS AGO in EVERY way except for BAD KNEES and VAGINAL ATROPHY! LOL!

I swear, I have WAY MORE FUN on Twitter than I ever have around here, so far. >sigh!< I MISS JUST HAVING SOME REAL FUN! Kidding, laughing, NO PANDEMIC, so I can FINALLY JUST GET ONE HUMAN HUG after more than 2 YEARS! >sigh!<

The HUG you sent me through cyberspace landed well and REALLY TOUCHED MY HEART! It made me STOP smiling, because it almost made me CRY-- but in a GOOD WAY. THANK YOU again! It means ALOT. I'm going through SO MUCH right now. I feel kind of LOST, and STRESSED, and SAD, alot.

I am sending you a GREAT BIG HUG right back! It'll linger awhile, while I cry on your shoulder. Hope you don't mind that. YOU TOUCHED MY HEART!

Please stay connected to me, because you are such a bright light of love that showed up in my life, and I am so blessed by your presence! Thank you for being you! I appreciate you ALOT!

I am SHARING this BIG, WONDERFUL, HUG that [he] kindly sent ME with ALL OF YOU who SEE this Tweet! [He] was SO KIND to SEND IT to ME, and I KNOW that ALOT of my friends are brokenhearted (AS AM I, in ways) and Valentine's Day RUBS IT IN for alot of people. WE ALL NEED SOME LOVE!

I wish I could give you a great big hug in person! You are dear to me! I just wanted to tell you that, for whatever it's worth. I LOVE BEING SINGLE and I always say that up front. But, that doesn't mean that I don't love some people, and you are a very special one of those!

I have ALOT of THOSE DAYS myself. Life SURE IS MORE FUN with some lightheartedness and laughter, though; when others ALLOW US THE PRIVILEGE to EXPRESS OURSELVES THAT WAY. GEEZ! People often feel threatened when I'm actually acting HAPPY! My blog post for February will be ON THIS!

YOU ARE JUST MEAN! LOL! My mouth started watering the SECOND I SAW THIS picture! You are SO CRUEL! LOL! I just ate some LEFTOVER tomato soup, and a CARROT, and YOU SEND ME THIS gorgeous spread. I swear, you are TRYING TO SEDUCE ME! LOL! LOVE YOU, DEAR! Working on blog.

I'm SMILING SO BIG NOW! THANK YOU, dear [man], for this wonderful Valentine's Day date we've had through our tweets and our shared humor. I would have changed out of my baggy t-shirt and jeans if I'd known! What a nice surprise this was. I gotta go. Blog post to finish writing now

                        and some Tweets replying to me on Valentine's Day

                 (as we all know, most people aren't nearly as wordy as me)

For you

Awwww you're so welcome

Will do Deborah and if you contact me believe me I will always respond as long as I am here

You’re just teasing me now!

Be still my heart ❤️

At my advanced age it brings a smile to my face that I can still do that. 😄 

Now you got me laughing 😂

ya I’m the same guy too …. Except for the thinning grey hair, expanded waist line, arthritic hands, high blood pressure and there’s parts of me that wouldn’t work if they were soaked overnight in WD-40….other than that, my baby blue eyes are still blue.

The persona, that I put forth, on Twitter, which these posts, above, are from, was much more of my 'Stevie' self, from my dancer days. So, I HAD A REAL BLAST as  I flexed that part of me, again, for awhile. I tend to only let that side of me show now with people that, I really feel 'safe' with, or accepted or befriended by. I shut down alot more around people who I know are, gossiping about me, are trying to undermine, or discredit, or backstab, me, or are fake with me. PLAYER HATERS. I still have, the personality traits, that I taught myself, back in junior high, too, but  I have grown alot tireder of other peoples' crap as the years have gone by and so many peoples' bad behaviors have taken such a huge toll, on me, and, on my life. I'm at the point now of feeling like I am on BULLSHIT OVERLOAD, from all of this. There's not alot of people living by The Golden Rule anymore. Not even me, all of the time. The  Bible  says, "because of the increase of evildoing, the love of many will grow cold."(Matthew 24:12 New American Bible) I've really seen this happen, over the course of my lifetime. Around me, and in me. Not, in everyone, all of the time, or, always, in me. There are still moments where I see or experience caring, and compassion, love, and redemption, that lift my spirit and my hopes out of the mire, of dejection, and despair, and inspire me, to embrace life, and others, again.

I want to engage and enjoy life, fully! I want to be free to be 'me'. I don't want to have to 'keep my light under a bushel basket', hidden from the world because my shining self makes other women insecure, and men attracted to me, in ways that, can become extremely problematic, for me to navigate, and still feel relaxed, and safe, staying, in the relationship, with them, as my friend, or my neighbor. I am a freedom loving, outgoing, spontaneous, fun-loving, upbeat, person normally, with a sense of humor, that I enjoy using, at every possible moment. Instead of, being this, truest, me, though, I often feel like I have to be deadly serious and subdued in situations, to try to avoid drawing the resentment, rejection, and retaliation, of other women, who seem to take my allowing myself to shine as my best self as a threat to them personally, or the men acting attracted to me, even when they are married men, causing me to shut down, my self expression, from feeling, it is my responsibility to NOT SHINE, or BE HAPPY, because their seeing me like that turns them on sexually, sometimes. >sigh< IT IS SOOOOOOO FRUSTRATING! I want to SHINE, as who I am, because I am living my ONLY life, and I WANT to ENJOY it! I don't want guys drawing my attention to their adulterous thought, though-- a real downer, for me, that I don't want, or need, in my life. I have been single for OVER THREE DECADES NOW! I have had 5 marriages to 4 men and turned down quite a few other offers to be married. I DON'T LIKE MARRIAGE. There are alot of things I don't like about MEN (although, I am not gay). If I WANTED a man I could HAVE a man-- even at my age, now, but I DON'T WANT ONE! I even, TELL THEM THAT, UP FRONT-- and I am a very direct and honest person! Even so, women literally try to stand between me and their husbands if I am approaching them, as if I want their man, when, there is, NOTHING ABOUT HIM, that I would EVER even WANT. GEEZ!

I am being, my happiest self, when I am, smiling, giggling, being funny, even silly, having fun. But, whenever I DO THAT, men accuse me of "flirting" with them, and women act really dubious of, hostile toward, and resentful of, me. When I am 'me' around other women-- doing, the very same behaviors, as I did around the men-- the women will ask me if I'm drunk, to be acting so relaxed and express myself so freely and happily, which is truly insulting (especially since, I don't drink anymore, and haven't for a long time now). If they aren't asking me, if my behavior is from, some 'substance abuse', then they accuse me of trying to take their man, and get in little gossipy groups and talk about me, in a bad way. Apparently, a woman like me, being fully herself, and being happy, with her life, makes, alot of women, feel extremely threatened, and unhappy, so I end up avoiding them. The men and the women, since I can't JUST BE 'ME', without getting all these CRAPPY reactions, to that, and I get tired of defending, or explaining, myself, to the men (No, I am not trying to BE WITH YOU!) and the women (No, I do not want to take your man!). I end up just shutting down (which is not fun for me, since I ENJOY BEING ME) and staying to myself, away from, the insecurity, and the resentment, the accusations, and the attractions. GEEZ! Why, can't I JUST BE ME? THEY, are being THEMselves!

I have even tried to preemptively discuss this with people, before it ever happens, in order to explain where I am coming from and to reassure them that, I am NOT, trying to take their man, if they are a woman, or have an intimate encounter with them, if they are a man. Plus, there's a pandemic going on, that I'm truly terrified of! I haven't even gotten close enough, to any human being, to even be HUGGED, for OVER TWO YEARS, now! I DON'T TAKE ANY CHANCES! I recently backed away from a friendship with a married man when he started saying I'm flirting with him. The thing is, he doesn't see me around others, when I'm being myself, in the very same way, as I was, with him, whether, they are, men, women, children, or PETS; when I am not shut down, which would 'dull my light', socially speaking. I am THE VERY SAME WAY with others, I interact with, even online on social media sites, as I documented, above, by copy and pasting, some, of my tweets, and some of, the responses, I got from people to those. I shut down, and pulled back from it, when he said that, because if that is his perception and his focus, when we interact that way, with one another, then, I can't, comfortably, continue, to kid, back and forth, with him, anymore, like we both used to enjoy doing. I wouldn't feel right about it knowing that, he, thought of it that way. As, something wrong, or that was meant as something more, than it really was. Whenever I feel unsure and self-conscious, with people, I shut down, and freeze up, around them. All I feel is, uncomfortable! In the midst of, ALL this STRESS, with the pandemic, being more contagious, than ever, and the issues with my house being, largely, still unresolved, after 6 months, here, his friendship, with me, was the bright spot, because, he was able to get me to smile even with tears in my eyes, or in the midst of a full-blown anxiety attack, when I was struggling to even be able to breathe. He was comforting. Reassuring. When so MUCH of what is going on in my life, and situation, is anything BUT that. I felt it was a supportive friendship, from someone with a really good heart. Until, he made me so self-conscious, by using the "f"-word (flirting) to describe my way of expressing my buoyant personality as I forced myself to focus on the happiness I feel, in being here, despite the obstacles that I have to overcome that came with it. Hard things, which I hadn't expected, to have to deal with, when I moved here.

So, the ONE person that I had really felt WAS a REAL FRIEND, to me, I don't have that feeling with, anymore. All I can think of, when I interact with him, now, which I try to limit doing, as much as possible, is how anxious I feel, about not doing, or saying, anything, anymore, that will have too much weight given to it, by him, if I should, smile, or laugh, or do, anything, at all, "joyful", around him, now. The sad thing is, he, actually, really had it right, about me, when he described me as being a joyful person. I REALLY AM, when people aren't causing me to shut down, who I am, so I don't make them feel threatened, by that, in me, in some way, shape, or form; depending on, who they are, and what 'threat', they think, I am, to them. I regularly, raise my arms, up high, standing in my livingroom, and praise God, and love on Him, and sing songs to Him! I regularly kick off my slippers, and dance on my kitchen rug-- line dances, hip-hop, even some of my old, dancer, moves. I AM TRULY a "joyful" person, when I AM ALLOWED TO BE! So many people don't allow me to be, for their own, various, reasons. >sigh!< I FEEL like I am SUFFOCATING, sometimes, just because I feel like I have spent MOST OF MY LIFE, stuffing myself down, to minimize, who I am, negate, who I am, force myself, TO BE, LESS THAN, who I AM, just so, OTHER PEOPLE, won't have, a PROBLEM, with, MY JUST BEING WHO I AM, and BEING HAPPY-- because God GAVE ME LIFE on this Earth, to LIVE! Fully! Joyfully! Being, ALL that, I CAN be! EXPRESSING, all that I AM! Having FUN!

                                           

I HATE that it seems like I HAVE to be MISERABLE to keep OTHER people happy! I have GONE THROUGH SO MUCH, that was, horrible, and heartbreaking, in my life. It has been a VERY DIFFICULT road, for me to walk, in this world. Now is my LAST CHANCE, to really ENJOY my life. I am, a senior citizen, now. It's NOW OR NEVER, for me. Yet, here I am, hiding myself away, from, other people, again, like I have, for MOST OF MY LIFE, so that, MY being HAPPY, won't disturb THEM, in some way. It is SO SAD! It is SO WRONG. I FEEL like, I have NO choice. I feel, an underlying anger, too, though, at NOT BEING ALLOWED to just BE WHO I AM in my life, now! God created me to be ME, and I feel like I have rarely been able, to BE, who I am. Sure, I can choose to be myself, in spite of, others' objections, but so often, I end up being made to pay a price for it. The 'punishment', often doesn't fit the 'crime'. It's also still extremely hard for me to accept the fact that, as a grown adult, I am free now to choose to express myself, genuinely, and authentically, after I was not allowed, to do that, at all, when I was growing up. That became an, indoctrinated, objection, in my soul, that is very difficult to overcome; even after all these years.

I already know, that, if I ever DO, give myself, permission, to be all that I can be, anyway, in spite of all the apparent opposition, to that, I will feel MORE, negative, reactions, from people. I want to wear my, nicer, clothes! I have not worn ANY, of them, since I came here, because when I moved here and brought it up to one of the women that is part of the little clique that gossips about me, she said that NO ONE HERE EVER DRESSES UP, because, it DOESN'T SUIT LIVING HERE. I want to get my hair styled. I haven't done these things yet because of the pandemic, and now, the, financial, strain, because of, the problems, with my new house, holding me back, from it. I want to rent a car, and go to the beach! It's been pushed way down on my To Do List, because I have to get the house repaired before anything else, now, though; which the pandemic is still holding up my making progress on, as well as, my lack of funds, that I will need for this, unanticipated, problem. The ONE person here, that I came to believe was a REAL FRIEND to me, isn't now. All because of, my 'flirtiness', being, problematic, for him, despite, him, doing things toward me that I would say ALSO FIT THAT CATEGORY, only I considered it to be that we were sharing our MUTUAL SENSE OF HUMOR, for the most part, that had brightened each other's day, in the midst of stress. After all, NEITHER of us, ever actually PROPOSITIONED the other. It wasn't like that with us. We JUST KIDDED, with one another. Or so I had THOUGHT, we were doing. The friendship is not the same, now. I emotionally distanced myself from him, after he started harping on the 'flirting' thing, making me self-conscious, about it, and unsure about, all of it.  After that, I deliberately told him off, for things, he does, that have, annoyed me,  to put up a wall, between us, so it won't even be possible, to have that, problem, now. Because he is my friend, in my heart, though, I really care about him. So, I really hurt, when his response, showed me that he was hurt, by my doing that to him. But I made myself let it stand, so it would burn that bridge between us now.  I feel sad, about it. He felt like, my ONLY REAL FRIEND, here, so far! I will, make other friends, eventually, though, and he won't feel conflicted, now, from kidding with me. I have talked to him, once, since then, and I could tell it isn't the same.

                                                       

I don't think the 'flirting' thing would have been such an issue, as he made it out to be, if he had known, that, I am that way, with all kinds of people and animals, when I am JUST BEING HAPPY IN MY LIFE. My Twitter tweets show that. I have a young, male, neighbor, who is only 25 years old, that I like, very much. When he moved in, next door, to me, he wasn't married, yet, and when I would see him, I would talk with him, and laugh, and kid around, and be very lively and animated.  I made him smile, and laugh, every time we visited, and those interactions made me happy, too! I looked forward to seeing him, and talking with him. We enjoyed it, but I don't think he EVER took it as me FLIRTING with him, although, by some peoples', strict, definition of it, I probably would be. I am 66 years old, now! It is SILLY, to EVER think that I would REALLY 'FLIRT', in ANY SERIOUS WAY, that was MORE THAN just being, this harmless, and fun, upbeat, interaction, between us. I could be this young man's GRANDMOTHER! Still, I laughed, and kidded, with him, much more so, than I, ever, did, with the man, who was, my friend, that, made a big deal, out of, my 'flirting', to me; causing me to avoid interacting with him now unless it is necessary, and unavoidable. When I moved here, I was ALSO this way with the WOMEN, until, they acted, SO HOSTILE, TOWARD ME, for doing it, that I stopped. I was in my mood to be fun-loving and silly as I talked to a woman here who lives at the end of my street. After all, I had just moved, into my new house, and despite the problems, that presented me, I was trying my best (while, crying, alot, about it, on the side) to BE HAPPY ABOUT IT. As she and I talked outside, for a bit, I was making jokes and being upbeat. I laughed, as I said to her, "My sense of humor is showing!", while striking a silly pose, as if it were, my slip, showing. I was just, feeling free, to be me. She, looked me up and down, when I struck that, animated, pose, with NO SMILE, on HER FACE, as if she thought I was from Mars!

Not long after, a small clique developed here that made me their main target. She was in that group. She acts otherwise, when the property manager is around, but she definitely has been a main instigator in the gossip about, and criticism of, me. That gossipy group talks crap about me, with things like, "Who does she think she is? Why does she act like that? I don't like her. I don't trust her." I know it goes on and I just let them be. All the while, as these, precious, latter, days, of my life ebb away-- days that I cannot get back, to try to live more happily-- I want to DANCE, through my life, and be SILLY, if I want to, and LAUGH, deeply, and wear, some of my pretty clothes, including skirts, and dresses, without, having to, SHUT MYSELF DOWN because somebody SAW me dancing (out of sheer joy of living my life) and says I am doing that because I am flirting, or I am after their husband, or being a troublemaker, or a problem. WHY is my JUST BEING WHO I AM such a THREAT, to people? Honestly, it seems like, so many, people-- especially, women-- are just so miserable with their own lives, underneath, that they are a 'Misery loves company' group! I have lived through MORE THAN ENOUGH MISERY, in my life, and I WANT TO BE HAPPY, NOW! I want to be, ALLOWED, to be happy now! Apparently, I need peoples' PERMISSION, and ALSO, apparently, they mostly, DO NOT GIVE ME THAT permission. I would FEEL SO MUCH HAPPIER and be SO MUCH MORE RELAXED, in my life, if people would JUST LET ME BE (ME!)! It reminds me of the Bobby Brown song, 'My Prerogative'. Below, is the link, to the video, of the song, and the lyrics.

All those years ago, in junior high, my vivacious and enthusiastic personality, that I had cultivated so that I could finally find affirmation, appreciation, and affection, while, I was at school, at least, gave me a way, to find happiness, apart from, my miserable, dysfunctional, home life. When, it was, commented on, complimented, by the student teacher, during gym class, with him, assuring me, that, because of it, I would always have alot of friends, neither he nor I realized, how mistaken, he was. Clearly we both had alot to learn about that. Carolyn, AKA 'Big Red', was the one that showed me what it was actually going to be like, for me, when she heard him say that, and slapped me, to 'put me in my place', because of it, on that very day. It seems like, my WHOLE LIFE, people have, resented me, punished me, and ostracized me, in various ways, because my being "joyful" has been, problematic, for people, for various reasons. Women think, I'm competing, when I'm NOT. Men think, I want them, when I DON'T. Honestly, I MEANT NO HARM, to anyone! I just want, the chance, to be (ALLOWED, to be) HAPPY! Lighthearted. Silly. Giggly. Fun-Loving. WHY, is THAT such a THREAT, to people? I, REALLY, don't understand that.

What I DO understand, is that, my LIFE is NOW! I have to LIVE it, or WASTE it by 'dimming my light', and trying NOT to SHINE, so that, the brightness of my being, won't cause me to incur peoples' disapproval. I DON'T LIVE FOR THEM! I LIVE MY LIFE FOR ME! They already turned on me, anyway, each in their own way, and for their own reasons. There IS going to come a day, God Willing, when I will, finally, be able, to get my hair done (because, it NEEDS it; not to, IMPRESS, anyone, but ME), and I will wear my cute clothes here, because this is where I live, and this is where I am, and my clothes are all just hanging here, filling 2 racks and a closet, waiting to get some use. I paid for them, and I have every right to ENJOY them. I can't spend the rest of my life in baggy clothes and old sweatsuits, just because a woman, here, that isn't nice to me, anyway, and doesn't seem to like me, already told me that, NO ONE ELSE HERE EVER DRESSES UP, so I shouldn't either. I want to FOR ME! But, God forbid, HER husband looks twice at me when I do, some day, because I WILL BE BLAMED for 'flirting' with him, and trying to steal him from her when NEITHER of those things would be TRUE. My being at my best is for myself!

I have downplayed myself terribly, since moving here, and being the object of the gossip clique, and such, but I can't win, with people, NO MATTER WHAT I DO, so I shouldn't continue to allow them to intimidate me or control what I am allowed to be. Apparently, my, effervescent, personality, WON'T assure me, that I will always have alot of friends. But, the way I see it, I'd rather have a few, real, friends, that ACCEPT ME for WHO I AM, than a whole lot of them, that just want to slap me, for seeming like a threat, to them, anyway. I really miss, the friendship, with the one guy here, that I thought was a real friendship. But, it's probably better that it was ruined, if he even thought for one minute that I meant it to be anything else. Now I find myself, wondering, if the 25-year-old, that lives next to me, ever, thought, I 'wanted' him, because I 'flirted' alot more openly with him than anyone else here; so far. I definitely don't! Sometimes, for me, the easiest ones to be flirty with, are the ones that I would especially not want. What they KEEP calling, "flirting", I see as me just ENJOYING LIFE, and BEING, FUN-LOVING. I resent them, relabeling it, into something problematic, when it is something superficial and harmless; to me. When, I'm THIS VERY SAME WAY, with women, that I interact with (that, I like, as people; not, the bitches, that give me a hard time), I wonder, now, if THEY think I am acting like that because I am 'flirting', with THEM; which would make me gay? I AM NOT, IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM, GAY! NONE of my wildest fantasies are EVER about WOMEN. One, of my sexual fantasies-- since, those, don't have to be, anything realistic, since, it will never, actually, be acted on, in real life, involves, a dog, though; and another one of my fantasies is about an alien from outer space; so, if you want to make something out of, 'who', I 'flirt' with, if only in my wildest fantasies, then chew on THOSE TWO THINGS about me. THAT ought to KEEP YOU BUSY, talking about me, for awhile. In the meantime, I will go 'flirt', with MYSELF! I ENJOY, MY SENSE OF HUMOR, and ability to be, light-hearted, in the midst of all this STRESS! (I once, told my husband, about the dog fantasy, so he used to walk around behind me when he was horny, barking at me. I was NOT amused by that. Although, it, really, was, kind of funny!) Anyway, not only, did I NOT, end up with, ALOT, of friends, there aren't ALOT of people, anymore, that I, REALLY want to BE FRIENDS WITH! I always kind of smile, to myself, when there are people rejecting me who seem to assume that it matters to me; as if I haven't, also rejected them.

"I try to live in a little bit of my own joy and not let people steal it or take it." - Hoda Kotb

Here's one last Tweet, that I just saw, on Twitter, as I was checking on, whether a friend (that I 'FLIRT' with, ALOT, on Twitter!) got his birthday Tweet from me, yet:

Jacklena Bentley @JacklenaB 

Delete people from your life that take your joy away from you.

That Tweet seems to go with this blog post, of mine, very nicely! So, I included it.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5cDLZqe735k

THIS COULD, ALSO, BE MY, THEME SONG, FOR MY LIFE-- and, JUST BEING 'ME'!

Here are the lyrics:

Get busy
Everybody's talkin' all this stuff about me (Now now)
Why don't they just let me live (Oh oh oh)
I don't need permission
Make my own decisions (Oh)
That's my prerogative

They say I'm crazy
I really don't care
That's my prerogative
They say I'm nasty
But I don't give a damn
Gettin' girls is how I live
Some ask me questions
Why am I so real
But they don't understand me
I really don't know the deal
About a brother
Trying hard to make it right
Not long ago
Before I win this fight
Sing!

Everybody's talkin' all this stuff about me
Why don't they just let me live (Tell me why)
I don't need permission
Make my own decisions (Oh)
That's my prerogative
It's my prerogative (It's my prerogative)

It's the way that I wanna live (It's my prerogative)
I can do just what I feel (It's my prerogative)
No one can tell me what to do (It's my prerogative)
Cause what I'm doin'
I'm doin' for you now

Don't get me wrong
I'm really not zooped
Ego trips is not my thing
All these strange relationships
Really gets me down
I see nothin' wrong
With spreadin' myself around
Sing!

Everybody's talkin' all this stuff about me (yeah)
Why don't they just let me live (Tell me why)
I don't need permission (I don't need)
Make my own decisions (My own decisions)
That's my prerogative
It's my prerogative (It's my prerogative)

I can do what I wanna do (It's my prerogative)
Truly live my life (It's my prerogative)
I'm doin' it just for you (It's my prerogative)
Tell me, tell me

Why can't I live my life (Live my life)
Without all of the things that people say (Oh Oh)

Yo tell it, kick it like this
Oh no no

I can do what I wanna do
Me and you
Together, together, together, together, together

Everybody's talkin' all this stuff about me (Everybody's talkin')
Why don't they just let me live (Why)
(Why don't they just let me live girl)
I don't need permission (I don't need permission)
Make my own decisions
That's my prerogative

Everybody's talkin' all this stuff about me (Everybody's talkin')
Why don't they just let me live
I don't need permission (I don't need)
Make my own decisions (My own decisions)
That's my prerogative

What is this a bizzit that I can't have money in my pocket
And people not talk about me
This world is a trip, I don't know what's going on these days
Got this person over here talking about me, this person
Hey, listen, lemme tell you something
This is my prerogative, I can do what I want to do

I made this money, you didn't
Right Ted?
We outta here

It's my, it's my, it's my, it's my, it's my
my my my my my my my my my my my my my my my

It's my prerogativeWriter/s: BOBBY BROWN, GENE GRIFFIN, TEDDY RILEY
Publisher: BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind 

"There is A NAKED WOMAN in the park!"

During many of the years, that I was a nightclub dancer, I was aggravated, during my time off from work, by an Omaha police officer, who was, inadvertently, acting as my own private security guard (however unwanted, that was, by me). Because of that, I also nicknamed him 'Stalker Cop'. Any woman who has been stalked can tell you that, there is nothing enjoyable, about that. Although, having him, almost always, around, wherever I was, and wherever I went, when I was out and about, anywhere, in the downtown/Old Market area of Omaha (where I lived, for most of the years that he did this to me) may have given me a sense of my having 'police protection', from, other, types of crimes, it caused more harm, than good, for me. His doing this to me and my trying to get the Omaha Police Department to take it seriously, when I finally made a formal complaint to them about it, would lead me down a very dark road in my life. This set of circumstances of my turning in a law enforcement officer, for breaking the law, was the situation that led directly to my doing prostitution. If my life has been anything, it has been very full of twists and turns, which took me places, that I would never have believed, that I would go or end up, when I was growing up as a naive little girl that took things at face value. As I became more and more aware of how the world really was, versus how I was taught that it was 'supposed to be', I was troubled, and even sad, by the fact that almost nothing, almost no one, was what they had seemed, or 'should' have been based on, the stereotypes, that are, generally, applied, to whatever, or whomever, it was. He didn't fit the description, of the honorable public servant, we are taught that police officers are; and before the fallout, from all this, was finished, I, would no longer fit the stereotype, of the type of girl, that we think of, as one that would never do prostitution. Nevertheless, the facts were, that he was a cop and I was a prostitute. Sometimes it's hard to get our labels to match us or us to match them.

Having a uniformed police officer, who is sworn, to protect and serve, stalking me, is a good example of something, someone, not living up to who, and what, society teaches about, and expects of, them. His playing, this game, with me, with my life (and then, mocking me, with glee, and even laughter, in my face, about it, when I took his, constant, attention toward me, as, surely, being a sign of someone really caring, about me), created a confusion within me, that was, very, distressing, and damaging. I simply could not fathom the fact, that a police officer would play with another person's thoughts and emotions, for no other reason than to alleviate the boredom of their generally mundane workdays, while simultaneously feeding their ego, and nothing more. He had put, so much--- extreme, prolonged--- effort, into it, that I didn't think it could possibly indicate anything other than I was genuinely cared for, by this other human being. I had thought that he was a clown, from the moment I first set eyes on him, but had nevertheless opened my heart up to him, when I thought, he must really care, about me, to expend so much energy, to 'be in my face' ALL the time. EVERY time I have SECOND-GUESSED my initial opinion of someone, and gone on, to give them, the benefit of the doubt, with me, I have lived to REALLY REGRET that decision. It went from frustrating to infuriating when even after he--- bluntly--- cleared that up for me, he CONTINUED to DO it; with a smirk on his face! I'm sitting here, shaking my head in disbelief at this, but it was all too true. He did this to me for years. ELEVEN years, in fact, to some extent, or other. Until, I finally took him to court, for it, to stop it. But, I get ahead of myself here with that though. Consider my background before I begin to detail his crime. 

I had already had my heart irrevocably broken by finding out that parents are not always loving. That, a husband, who takes vows, and marries you, to become one with you, may not, even love you, or mean those vows, he took; and, even worse, may actually be your most dangerous and abusive enemy. I had learned, the hard way, that climbing into a pickup truck to accept a ride home from a semi-stranger, who, had, genuinely, seemed, to just want to be helpful, could end with, my being raped, by that person, who was, really, not trying to help me, at all. I had become completely demoralized, when I swore an oath to serve my country in the military but found myself backtracking on that, and saying to my commander, "Sir, if THIS is what, SERVING my country, is going to BE like, for me, I don't want to be here" because of the, tremendous, unrelenting, sexual, pressure, on me, by the military males, I was, greatly, outnumbered by, which, culminated, with, my turning in my own commander at the time, whose organization I was loaned out to as I awaited a further security clearance, to be able to work where I was, actually, assigned, in my orders to Offutt Air Force Base. He had continually sexually harassed me, until it got to the point that I was terrified of being raped again, after he ordered me to get into his car, with him, where he had touched me, inappropriately, and told me, that he and I WERE going to have sex, in the future. I ended up, forfeiting, my Air Force career, that had started out so well, to escape, such terrible treatment, that he and his male fellow enablers put me through, because I finally turned him in to stop it. I had, already, been through all this, and much more, by the time this cop came into my life. Perhaps cynically, due to, my own, life experiences, I think that it is a disservice, especially to innocent, trusting, children, when people are taught to believe that 'parents' are loving, nurturing and protective toward us; that when someone says, they 'love' you--- no matter who they are--- that they mean it and have the most sincere intentions toward you; that 'serving your country' is truly a noble endeavor where you can expect to be treated with respect for your sacrifice and have your compatriots looking out for your safety and well-being; and 'police' are there to protect us, from criminals. STALKING, is, legally, a CRIME. But, doing all that he did to me for as long as he did all that to me, was also unconscionable.

Clearly misogyny took some forms which I never could have anticipated in my life as a female that I would unfortunately have to learn about through the nightmare of being subjected to them. I think it has to be what his behavior toward me was. Dictionary.com defines misogyny as hatred, dislike, or mistrust, of women [which is] manifested in various forms, such as, physical intimidation, and abuse, sexual harassment, and rape, social shunning, and ostracism, etc. This cop, Darren, was harassing me continually by stalking me. In doing that, he destroyed my sense of privacy, and peace, to the point where I actually developed chiropractic problems, in my neck, because I was continually looking back over my shoulder, to see if he was doing this to me, yet again, because so much of the time he was! This would go on for years, with him. I tried to ignore him, for much of that time, to no avail, until I started to think that only a man who was deeply attracted to a woman can act this way, this much, and this long, and began, to consider the possibility, of it, since nothing, I could conclude about it, made any sense to me, regardless of his motive. Because he was also a police officer, who had a gun on him, and this was not standard operating procedure for police officers, it would also classify, per the definition of misogyny, as physical intimidation. Even, all these years later, I have never really known why he chose to do this to me. It isn't just him, that torments women, for no real reason. I have already covered many, other, men, in my posts that have harmed me, and therefore, the course, of my life, by their treatment of me. Since women normally do the far greater majority of the raising of boys, I do not understand, how misogyny can be as pervasive, as it is, in the mindset of the male gender. It is a complicated issue, but women pay a very high price for it. For me, I think that, men fear the power which women, naturally, possess--- because from birth on, they need us, more, than we seem to need them, and they learn to resent, and try to compensate for, that fact, which disturbs them, so deeply. Boys are often given a Free Pass to misbehave, and girls often suffer the consequences of boys' bad behaviors. It often just seems like another 'sport', for males, and it's difficult to tell if they really have any awareness of the damage they do, to female lives. Do they, just not know? Or, do they just not care? I don't have the answers, to this, perplexing, issue, but I can describe things that I have been subjected to, by men, and the impact, those have had, on my life, which many posts are about.

OPD used the community policing* model, of law enforcement. So, it did not take long, for each officer, assigned to this area that I lived in, to know who everybody was--- including me. In fact, we all got to know one another on a first name basis and those who worked in this part of the city, were known as such, as were those of us who lived in this part of downtown Omaha. Because, the same officers were patrolling, the same beat, they also knew the regular routines of the citizens, that were usually in this area; and since I only had a few hours to do my own thing, in the early afternoon, before I had to start getting ready for work, 6 days a week, I was even more predictable than most, to the police officers on patrol. Since I also preferred to do all of my dating 'on my home turf' so to speak, for safety reasons, I was often under the watchful gaze of the officers, assigned to the area, then, as well. While I, sometimes, had other, personal, interactions with some of the other officers, who were around on Darren's days off, and on other shifts, none of them did anything close, to what Darren did, toward me, by placing himself, wherever I was, much, if not most, of the time. As I got more familiar with how he acted in a given situation, I eventually realized that he was very careful, about how he went about that, to avoid detection of his, questionable, behavior, by the other officers, as well as his shift supervisor who sometimes drove through the area in his patrol car, to check on whether things were going smoothly, with law enforcement goals. It is difficult for me, to describe, Darren's behavior, for this post, because to some extent, I have to be able to make sense of it, to find the words to do that here, as it also leaves me at a loss, for words, because, it was so, outlandish, baffling, and mind-bending. All I can say is, I told God, that if I were going to start writing this blog, I would be as honest and factual as possible about everything, or I wouldn't write the posts at all; and, I have done that, with every post. Although, there are certain individuals who are spoken of in my posts who would most likely deny the truth, that I have told about them, here in my blog, because it incriminates them, and documents their bad behaviors. I also discuss my own dark side, too, though. So, now, the details about Darren, since this eventually led me to do prostitution!  

It started off innocently enough, it seemed. Since I lived either downtown or right in the small, self-contained, community of the Old Market, during the years that I was a dancer, I spent my time off from work close to home, for various reasons. I would meet lunch or dinner dates at restaurants, in the area, to avoid getting into a car with them, and to be able to simply exit the situation, and go home, if it did not feel safe or enjoyable to me for whatever reason (such as the occasional man trying to grope or pressure me into a sexual interaction with them although I had only agreed to eat a meal with them). Once a man from an online dating site met me, in the Old Market, for the first (and last!) time, pulling his truck into an alley, which I refused to get into (been there, done that; ended in RAPE), and, then, he pulled a large plastic jug with a small amount of brownish liquid in it out from the backseat, as we stood, by his vehicle, and told me he made me some 'homemade sweet tea' for me to drink. I refused and he persisted, so I finally just went home. I am sure it was laced with something--- probably the 'date rape', knockout, drug that was being reported in the news at the time, as something men were doing to women. I never told most of these men, I dated, where I lived. The few that I did tell couldn't access my apartment. I made a point to only live in security buildings with locked entries. Since I, mainly, worked night shifts, while I was a dancer, and usually 6 nights a week, I did most, of my socializing, on the job. So, it was really hard for any man to get me to talk with them when I was off work, because it felt like I was at work, doing that. The questions and conversations were all the same. So, even though I did date, some, men, out of the many, who asked me, my time off work was precious to me, and I preferred spending most of it alone, in privacy. As much privacy, as I could find, in the bustling Old Market and downtown district.

Music is one thing that I have never felt tired of! Even after working in clubs, as a dancer. Sitting alone in the afternoon,  I enjoyed listening to a street musician in the Old Market or live bands playing at some of the festivals that were held in the downtown area. It would, relax me for awhile. However Darren came up to me to chat at times, when I would just be sitting there. Asking me questions, about my life, he soon knew my name, where I lived, and where I worked. (I normally did not give all that personal information to men, who walked up to me, inquiring about such things. But, there is an ingrained feeling, for many of us, that we have, no choice, but to reply honestly to the police whenever they ask us any questions.)

Sometimes, I would be sitting, at a, sidewalk, table, at one of the restaurants, with my date, enjoying a meal, when Darren would stop by our table. I was in my 'Stevie' persona, for my dates, so, what I was wearing, and, how I was acting, was all to, keep up my image, as, the 'nightclub performer'. Darren, stood by our table chatting as his eyes looked me over, from head, to gold-painted toenails, while, I amused myself, by, subtle, little gestures, like sucking on my straw in my drink, in a somewhat suggestive way. With both, my date, and Darren, it was fun flirting, and none, of us, took it beyond, superficial, though supercharged, sexual energy. Looking, just a little sweatier, than when he first stopped by to talk to us, Darren eventually dismissed himself by saying (eyes still on me, and not the food on our plates), "It looks . . . really good", leaving me to smile slightly, as he went on his way. This was just out-in-the-open, nothing to hide, back-and-forth banter, between us, and whoever else, was around, at the time. It was, lighthearted fun!

On days that, the weather, was nice, and I didn't have a date, I would put on my gold lame**, Victoria's Secret bikini, under an oversized t-shirt and my tight short shorts, and go over to the park--- usually, Gene Leahy Mall, but sometimes Heartland of America park--- to sunbathe, before I had to, go home, and get ready for my work shift, at the club, that night. To have as much privacy as possible, I would climb up the hill to the highest, most isolated point that I could find where I would, spread out my beach towel, set out my cool drink, turn on my music, and open up my magazine. Then I would pull off my shirt and shimmy out of my, skin-hugging, short, shorts, with a, very, feminine, wriggle, for my, sunbathing session. There was, something, sexy, about, those tan lines, from a bikini, when, the thong costume bottoms, that I danced in, were contrasted, against, that, as being, much smaller, still. My suntan emphasized how skimpy our costumes were that we wore.

 

Lying up on the hill, in the park, I had felt comfortably isolated, from other people, not even realizing that I could actually be viewed as I lay there, by people in office buildings, on the street in vehicles, and even those walking by, beneath the hill, in the park. Since I lived in the middle of downtown, this was as close, as I had, to a 'back yard'. I was doing my best to make the best of it but it also had its liabilities that I had not taken into account, in the process, of that. Victoria's Secret was one of my favorite places to order clothing from, when I was a dancer. I'd, also, always wanted a gold-colored bikini. I wore a lot of gold nail polish, in those days, as well, on both my fingertips and toes. When I saw that Victoria's Secret had a gold bikini in their catalog, and that it was on sale, I was delighted! I was also a bit surprised, that something like that was not Sold Out. Thinking, it was just a stroke of luck, in my favor, I ordered it, and could not wait to start sunbathing in it! So, that is what I wore, when I was working on my tan, in the park. In the beginning, I had no tan at all so the metallic sheen of the bathing suit was in strong contrast to my pinkish skin. As my tan grew deeper and darker over time, I began to look bronzed by the sun, making my skin become basically the same tone, as the bikini. Apparently, as I would, eventually, come to find out, it looked that way--- even more so--- from a distance! The difference, between these two tones had, gradually, been done away with, by the sun, merging my suit and my skin into one, golden, shade. This bikini had, basically, become invisible, against my tanned skin! Since, I could clearly see this bathing suit from up close, against my own skin, I was oblivious, to this fact. I had noticed, however, that, suddenly, drivers, who had to stop at a stop sign, near the park, in view of the hill that I was on, were screeching their tires, as they tried not to run right through the stop sign, at the very last second of their approaching the intersection. I could sometimes hear, one car after another, doing that, when I had never heard that before, which was really bewildering to me. Was there just a sudden increase in bad drivers? I wondered to myself, because I had never known this to be such a problem, in the downtown area, before, as that had become now.

One day, a guy that I knew, climbed up the hill and sat down on the grass, beside my beach towel. He pointed, across the pond which was in the middle of the park, and said, "Stevie, I just came from over there. You, will never BELIEVE, what they are looking for! Those cops, just got a call, from dispatch, telling them that people had been saying that, there is A NAKED WOMAN in the park!" I was, still, clueless, about my tan causing my bikini to, in effect, disappear, from others' view. I sat up in shock and said, "REALLY?!? I haven't seen ANYTHING LIKE THAT, and I've been here, for a while, now. Why, is it, that I never get to see the stuff like THAT?!?" If, this guy had known, that I, was this person, they were looking for, but that I was, actually, not "naked", at all, so that I didn't realize it was ME, he didn't tell me, or the cops, then, and I remained, totally, unaware, of it being ME, that was causing all the commotion, close calls, with cars, on city streets, and, complete, cessation of male productivity, in a 15-story office building, that was right across the street, from the park; the latter, of which, I would not know about, still, for some time to come, until, I, eventually, had a conversation, with, a club customer, one night, at work. The police officers, searching the park for this 'nudist' that 911 kept getting calls about, were the ones that were working on Darren's day off. Not many days, after that, though, the guy that emptied the parking meters, downtown, came up to me, tentatively, as I lay on my beach towel, on the hill, in the sun. I knew him, the way I knew all of the 'regulars', who were a part of the downtown Omaha/Old Market scene. He greeted me in an unusually shy manner as his eyes scanned my skin and my suit. Then, he told me that Darren had sent him over there to me, to see what I was wearing. He pointed across the park, where that police officer was waiting for the information. Darren--- the LAW ENFORCEMENT officer, had sent, a meter attendant, to see whether I was in violation of the law (as in NAKED, in the park!) because HE WAS AFRAID TO! It was his job to investigate such complaints.

So, Darren must have thought that I was capable of actually doing that; and, had  I been, it seems that, he would have, sent the meter attendant, back over, with a warning, or with his handcuffs! Or, called, for backup, to deal with me, instead of, doing his job, himself, as he was sworn, to do, as a police officer. It was shocking, to realize in that moment that I WAS the 'naked woman in the park' (even though I wasn't naked, at all, actually), but, it was extremely amusing, to me, too, to see how scared Darren was of considering (maybe, even fantasizing about) that, were I really naked, in the park, it would be his duty, to come over there, and handcuff my slender, sweaty, female, body (in all its, 'unclothed', sun-bronzed, sensuality), and, haul me off to jail. Smiling up at the meter guy, from my beach towel, as he was acting quite flustered himself, standing that close to me, even though he saw my bikini on my body with his own eyes, I slowly took a sip from my can of Pepsi, and said, to him, "Next time the COP sends YOU over here to do HIS job, can you bring me a Pepsi, too? It's REALLY HOT, out here!" Then, I told him that he should go back and tell Darren that I really was naked in the park, just to see, what he'd DO about it, if he thought it was TRUE. Then, I just, sat there, up on the hill--- IN my bikini--- and watched as he walked back over to Darren to talk to him about it and they left the park, together. When, I ran into, this meter man, awhile later, he told me that Darren had informed police dispatch that, whenever these calls came in, about a naked woman in the park, that they were to explain she wasn't naked, but was actually wearing "a flesh-colored bathing suit". It was a very hot summer. For, all, of us. I mused to myself that Darren didn't do his job that day because he couldn't risk, my saying, "Is that your nightstick, or are you just glad to see me?"    

One night as I sat at the bar in the Backdoor Lounge with a club customer named Frank, who was, a retired deputy sheriff, that owned a, small, one-man-operation, snack shop, on the main floor of one of the tall office buildings, which was located right across the street, from the park, we started discussing my tan lines. When I mentioned to him that I sunbathed in the park, downtown, he sat bolt upright, on his bar stool, with the look of someone that, just had a lightbulb go on, over their head. Then he asked me if I had ever noticed that there were male faces at every window, on every floor, of the entire 15-story office building, on the side of it that looked out onto the park; around 1 PM, every afternoon that 'the signal' went out through interoffice memos on computers, that 'the bikini girl' was up on the hill in the park. I could not have seen them from the hill in the park, between sun glare, and the distance, that they were, from me. But, from, the vantage point, of those voyeurs***, they would have had no trouble at all seeing me, quite clearly! Frank joked that he could tell when the woman (whom, he now realized, was ME) was in the park, because his snack shop business slowed to a stop with no one coming in from the offices in that building, and that he could feel the whole high-rise leaning in the direction of the park due to all the men in the building standing at windows.

There came a day, though, that this situation, with my 'invisible' bikini, went from amusing, to extremely embarrassing for me. Being a dancer for years, I didn't get embarrassed easily, about anything, anymore. I was extremely comfortable in my own skin, and in my identity, as 'Stevie', at this point. But, one day, as I was lying on my stomach, on my beach towel, up on the hill, in the park, deepening my tan, I heard alot of voices of little children, coming along the path in the park that was just beneath the hill. Little kids, speak their mind, without thinking anything, of it. I suddenly heard one little boy's voice raising itself loudly above all the others, as he called out to me, in all sincerity, "LADY, ARE YOU NAKED UP THERE?" Cringing, I raised my head up and turned over on the towel, to look at him. There was, alot of little kids, walking single file, led by a teacher, who was, doing her best, NOT to look at ME, and the little boy still expecting an answer from me to satisfy childlike curiosity. In that moment, I am sure that I no longer had skin matching my bikini as I felt myself turn deep red, from my head to my toes, in acute discomfort, and deep embarrassment. Looking at the little preschooler who still wanted an answer, all I could manage to do, in response, to him, was look him in his, innocent, eyes, and slowly shake my head, in a nonverbal 'No'. I stopped wearing my bikini in the park, following that incident. I just, could not feel the same, wearing it, after that.

Mutually harmless, adult, flirting, can be fun, and energizing; sublimating, alot, of pent-up, sexual, energy. Living my life as 'Stevie', during those years, which I am describing, my flirting, was on autopilot, as my basic persona. Wherever I went, I engaged in meaningless and reciprocal flirtations. Many if not most of which were started by the men and not me. (After all, I had to do all that at work every night to keep the customers satisfied.) It didn't mean anything to us and no one took it seriously, so no one could get hurt, by that. Everyone knew it was superficial, and just for fun. This, included, the times that, Darren and I, talked with one another; usually, in the Old Market, but, in other parts of downtown, as well. I was out and about alot in the afternoon hours before work, and on my days off, and he was on his bike, usually, patrolling the area as part of the Bike Patrol Unit, but sometimes  in his police cruiser, or on foot. When Darren found out that I worked in the clubs, as a dancer, he responded without missing a beat, imagining himself having much more clout, with me, than he had, saying, "Oh, GOOD! YOU can work undercover, for me, and report all the tips on the criminals in there." Without a nanosecond of hesitation, I responded that, THAT would NEVER happen. I'd already been beaten up in the bar, and it had been made clear to me, over the years, in the nightclubs  I danced in, that several co-workers, and even, some of the club owners, actually already thought that I was really a cop or at the very least an informant for them, simply because, I was seen as being so 'clean', compared to the majority of other employees, which were working in this business. I had absolutely NO DESIRE, OR INTENTION, to snoop around, and end up beaten up again, or worse--- especially since I had already had a situation with the mafia, which were connected to many of these clubs, to some extent or other. I enjoyed my job, and my lifestyle, at the time. I was making good money and having fun. Why would I rock the boat when it was floating, so nicely, for me? Nothing, about Darren's request, benefitted me!

It was not too long, before the interactions with Darren began to take a turn for the worse. In the beginning, he would, come up to me, and tell me, some of the stories, about experiences, he'd had, as a police officer, or let me know about some event that I might not have heard of, but that, I could be, interested in, which was in the downtown, or Old Market, areas, of the city. Or, he would, chat, with me, and someone that, I might be sitting with. It seemed, that he began to make alot of assumptions about my relationship, with him, though, which, started to, really, irritate me, because, it became, both, an intrusion, and an imposition, on my free time, that I wanted and needed, to have, for myself. It was, extremely, annoying, and began, to get, more, and more, aberrant, as time passed! THIS, wasn't MUTUAL. THIS, wasn't FUN. And THIS, wasn't FUNNY! He made, a real PEST, of himself, to me, to the point that, he was totally getting on my nerves, and I told him so! It didn't STOP him, from doing that, though. He not only, KEPT doing this, which was, STALKING, me, now, but, it increased, until it seemed like nonstop harassment, of me, by him. It was, bizarre. It was, intimidating. It was, uncalled for. This, was, undermining, everything, to do with my quality of life! It was a nightmare. The picture shown, in this paragraph, is of, Gene Leahy Mall park, in Omaha, during, an arts, festival. I will not, be able, to describe, EVERY SINGLE THING, that Darren did, to me, during the--- 11 years!--- of my life, that he tormented me with these behaviors until I was a nervous wreck, mentally, emotionally, and also, physically, because there were just TOO MANY! HE CONSTANTLY DID THIS, to me; for no rational reason, that I could ever figure out.

One of the earliest incidents involved my walking over to the Summer Arts Festival. I was meeting a date, to this event. Darren had, already, begun annoying me, due to openly, stalking, me, at this point. He would, pop up, at my heels, wherever I went! He would not, acknowledge it, or address it, whenever I confronted him, about that, either. Even though I'd told him that it really bothered me. He continued to follow me around, and watch me, everywhere I went, that he could possibly go. When I got to the arts festival and stood at the spot where, my date and I, had agreed to meet one another, Darren was right there, right away. As soon as he saw me he simply sat there straddling his bicycle. Standing there with his arms crossed. He wasn't patrolling. He wasn't moving on, through the, large, crowd, that was there that day, doing his JOB. He, just, stood there, watching me, for almost 20 minutes, until my date arrived, and then, he followed us, through the crowd, as we went from tent to tent, looking at art. I could not have LEFT the AREA to wait for my date somewhere else because there were no cellphones then, and I had no way to reach the guy I was meeting that day, to tell him that I needed to change our meeting location, at the festival. Even if I could have done that, somehow, it would not have helped me, get away from Darren's keeping, almost constant, sight of me. It was just like being, under the scrutiny, of (known) police surveillance; only, I hadn't done anything, against the law, to deserve this violation of my peace and privacy as a private citizen! He was on a bike. Although I CONSTANTLY and CONTINUALLY tried to get away from him, he would simply follow me wherever I went. Anywhere and everywhere that he possibly could! Whatever his reason may have been, he obviously had a weird fixation on me. He, was a law enforcement officer. This, was stalking. It is illegal! This is NOT 'harmless fun', to the victim that is going through it, nearly everyday.

[Note: This photo is NOT of Darren. This IS what the, Omaha, Bike Patrol officers wore, though, so they were clearly visible, due to their yellow polo shirts. He, actually looked like, the TV character, 'Barney Fife'****, in the 'Mayberry' TV series, only, Darren, was bald.] On the day, that, I was, meeting my date, at the arts festival, Darren just stood there staring at me while I was waiting for the guy to arrive. I tried, moving behind a large post, to get out of his view while still being where my date was supposed to find me, but Darren kept adjusting his position, just enough, to keep full sight of me, when I tried to move away, from his line of sight. Clearly, he knew, I was uncomfortable, with him doing this to me. Yet he kept on stalking me, over 11, long, years. I can't comprehend, what his thinking would have to be, in order to impact someone's life with, this, extreme, level, of harassment, and, stress, from the, constant, stalking, that he did, to me. But, I had made it very clear to him, including in conversations about it, that HE NEEDED TO STOP, and it only got WORSE, and NEVER stopped. It makes me so angry! That men DO this, to WOMEN, for NO reason; and GET AWAY WITH IT. His being, a POLICE OFFICER, made it, even MORE, EGREGIOUS, for me. The moment, that my date arrived, for example, for a, much-needed, day off from work, for me, which, should, have been, relaxing, and fun, Darren (after, standing, there, just, watching me, for quite awhile) suddenly, started, riding his bike--- but ONLY until he got right in between, my date and I, as we were walking toward one another. Once, he got, directly, in our path, he stopped, his bike, again, and stood there, causing us, to have to go around him, and his bike. There was NO REASON, at all, for that, completely, uncalled for, type of manipulative maneuvering. Darren went, way out of his way, to get in, and stay in, my face, but, I had, no idea, why.                                                                                                   

I, needed, to feel . . . oblivious, to all the goings on around me, as, much, as, possible, when, I was out, and about, and taking some time, to myself, to simply be alone, for awhile, lost in my thoughts. Just, enjoying, some desperately needed 'downtime' away from work and having to, be 'on', as 'Stevie', all the time. This photograph, is of Omaha's Old Market, which is often, the busiest area of the city, due to, locals and tourists, alike. It can be bustling with activity, from people crowding the sidewalks, elbow-to-elbow, and cars, everywhere you look, filling the quaint, brick-lined, streets, with, bumper-to-bumper traffic. Early on, in Darren's switch, from public servant, to private stalker, with me, he would watch to see where I was going (such as to the ice cream shop, or to, some other, place, of business), and, then, he would, follow me, on his bike, again, as I came out, of the building. There were, signs, posted, on the sidewalks, prohibiting bicycles from being on them. Nevertheless, Darren, would ride his bike up onto the sidewalk, peddling along, beside me, as I was walking, to, wherever, I was going. Since, he was riding alongside me, as people were walking past, on the sidewalk, trying, to avoid, being in the direct path, of his bicycle (which drew even more, unwanted, attention, to me, from, all these people, on top of, the, intrusive, attention from him) I conveyed my displeasure about it with a stressed expression and a sharp tone to my voice. However, Darren, just seemed to be, amused, by it.

His, showing up, almost all, the time, wherever, I was, whatever, I was doing, and whoever, I was with, was an immense invasion of my privacy and 'personal space'. Disrupting, my daydreaming. Intruding, on my, interactions, with others. One day, unable, to, get him, to "STOP IT, ALREADY!", I jaywalked*****, to get away, from HIM. As I ran out into the busy street, weaving between the traffic, trying to cross over, to the other side, to, get away, from, this STALKER, I was nearly hit by a car. He HARASSED me to the point that, he DROVE ME TO DO THAT! Even so, with NO thought for my SAFETY, he STILL would NOT LEAVE ME ALONE! Darren, still on his bike, FOLLOWED, RIGHT BEHIND ME, as I crossed the street, in the middle, of the block, which was full, of, moving, traffic. Desperate, to escape, this jerk, now, and hoping, that, the thick traffic, would deter him, from following me, further, at least for NOW, I, immediately, CROSSED BACK OVER to the OTHER side, still jaywalking between vehicles, which were moving along the street. He followed me right back. Back, and forth, we went, crossing, in the middle, of the street, several times, in a row. What, was it, going to TAKE, for, this guy, to LEAVE ME ALONE?!? I wondered, as I finally ducked into the nearest place of business simply to escape him. I could have been injured or killed. Even so, he was unrelenting, which said to me that he didn't care about that. This guy was a REAL HEADACHE to me, now. I was starting to feel jumpy all the time because he was always popping up almost everywhere I was, to the point that I had no feeling of peace, and no sense of privacy. He was a pest, and he was a problem. I could never figure out what he was actually after by doing this, to me. What was his purpose? His 'end game'? I didn't like him making a game out of my personal life. I had to deal with variations of that at work. Now I NEVER got a break, from the CRAP, that MEN, put me through. And, NOW, it was a COP, too; messing with my head. Freaking me out with his weirdness. THIS wasn't something FUN. THIS, wasn't JUST INNOCENT FLIRTING. THIS, wasn't HARMLESS.

My, beloved, cockatiel, CeeBee, was still in my life during those years. Because I had just a few hours, on my work days, which was in the afternoons, to do all that I needed to, or wanted to, for both me and my 'bird baby', I would regularly put CeeBee in his carrier (with an open weave pattern, so he got plenty of air and could see in all directions), and take him on a walk through the park, or to sit and listen to musicians, on the street corners, in the Old Market. CeeBee and I loved each other deeply, and we had a very close relationship. There is nothing to compare with the unconditional, all-in, love, of a pet, for their person. I have never experienced any, human, relationship, that's anywhere close, to that, loving, bond, of, mutual, trust, and care, that, we had! That, relationship, was the closest one, that I have ever had, with, any, living being, on this Earth. Working, 6 nights, a week, meant that, I was away, from home, more than, I was there, and I cherished, the time, that, CeeBee, and I, had together. Our own, special, time. On, sunny, summer, days, I would, put his water dish, and food, in, his walking basket, and take him to the park, for a picnic! A bird in a basket, attracted attention, from, and interactions, with, people, who, saw us; so I, sometimes, tried to find, privacy, somewhere, in this urban landscape, to get away, alone--- just the two of us--- so we could just 'be', together, blissfully undisturbed, by the intrusion, of others. One day, I climbed up the tall hill in the park, where there was also a circular, concrete, enclosure, that had, one, lone, park bench, inside, of it; for, one, of those, private, picnics, with just my, 'feather-chested studmuffin', and I! (I gave, CeeBee, bits, of my bag lunch, as well, which I had purchased from one of the nearby restaurants, before we headed over to the park.) It was an isolated spot, for downtown Omaha.

I was talking to him, laughing with him, singing to him; just enjoying our personal time together. It was so precious, to me, because, CeeBee, was so precious to me! He was, by far, the BEST THING, in MY LIFE, for, nearly, 20 years, together, before he 'flew Home, to Heaven'. On this day, that I am describing, I felt so relaxed, and happy, in that place, of complete seclusion from the outside world. I didn't have to be 'Stevie', for that, short, time. I was, simply being, 'CeeBee's Mom'. My greatest privilege, and honor! We were just sharing some, sweet, moments, alone together, when, suddenly, a bee, flew into the area, and wouldn't leave us alone. I definitely did not want to get stung! I started, trying to shoo it away, but it persisted. Finally, holding CeeBee's walking basket, as I tried to keep from, either of us, being stung, by this bee, I, quickly, stood up, and whirled around, as it, circled, behind me; and THERE WAS DARREN. Not more than a few feet away, from us, just standing there. Arms folded, across his chest. Straddling, his bike. Just watching me. Watching us. CeeBee and I. SPYING on us. There was, nothing else, that, he COULD HAVE BEEN DOING, there! There were no other people, anywhere around that isolated area, of the park, and nothing else, there, but a small grove of trees, just behind, where he stood. He was standing near this, waist-high-or-so, concrete wall. JUST WATCHING ME. LISTENING, to me talking to my pet, in (what I had, mistakenly, thought was) private. Although, (DARREN KNEW) I had NO idea, at all, that, he was there, doing that. Until, the bee showed up, and I finally jumped up, off that park bench, to get CeeBee and I away from it. I stopped in my tracks, frozen from shock, when I saw Darren RIGHT THERE, WATCHING ME, and just stared, at him, with a look of, both, genuine ALARM, and real CONFUSION, as I tried to MAKE SENSE, of WHY, he KEPT DOING THIS, TO ME. He didn't leave, when I saw him, there, look away, or act like someone who JUST GOT CAUGHT--- STALKING, a woman--- yet again. Darren just kept on standing there, expressionless and wordless. I left, to get away, from him.

He hadn't been standing in front of the enclosure, because I could have easily seen him, there, then. He had stood, just behind, that low wall, of concrete, so he could see me without me knowing that he was there. He wasn't there when I arrived and I had not heard him coming up behind me, there on the hill, so Darren had to have been stealthy, about positioning himself there, so close to me, without my knowing it. There was NO CRIME BEING COMMITTED, by me, to warrant this surveillance of me. I was merely, a woman who had been trying to be alone, with her pet! Trying, her best, to have some, peaceful private time. Nothing more than that. I didn't say anything at all, to Darren, the majority of the time, that he did these things to me, because, early on, I definitely did, tell him, that it was upsetting, and annoying, to me, and that, he should stop. I also, behaved, in a way, that made that clear, once he went from being 'Officer Friendly' the neighborhood cop, toward me, to 'Stalker Cop', of my own, personal, HELL. But, HE DIDN'T; and, IN FACT, it only, got worse, with him! The, third, photo (above), that I included with this post, shows the front of that, isolated, private, concrete enclosure, where CeeBee and I were having our picnic. It was up on the, very same, hill that I sunbathed on. I went there because of its isolation. Almost no one that went to the park ever climbed up the steep hill, to go to that part of the park, which is why I liked it so much. I was always, trying to, carve out some, private, space, for myself, which was hard to find, living in the middle of downtown Omaha, as I did, and when I lived in the Old Market, itself, for several years--- because I got a great deal on the rent, for a loft apartment, there. That one park bench inside the concrete enclosure faced the pond, in the middle of the park. In that, third, photograph, that I inserted, into this post, in the center, of the right-hand side, of the picture, you can see, the grove of trees, which was just behind the concrete enclosure, I was in, and also, behind where Darren had stood, only feet, from where I had just been sitting; in what, I had THOUGHT, was, TOTAL PRIVACY. He hadn't made his presence known, to me, there. He'd stood, in silence, in back, of me. Snooping. Spying. Just watching me, there. There was no one else, anywhere, around, and nothing else in that part of the park. He was looking at me.

This photo is of a police officer in the Old Market, in winter gear. Darren also wore this type of uniform when he wasn't in his bike patrol polo and shorts. Because of the build of this man, this photograph, could very well be, a picture of Darren. He was the skinniest and scrawniest of the cops. A near-lookalike to the TV character 'Barney Fife', a law enforcement officer, on the 'Mayberry' TV series, that, almost, always, created more problems than he solved. That's what Darren did in my life. This photo was taken in the evening, and Darren, normally worked 'A' (day) Shift. However, this could still be him, because, during those years, that he stalked me, he often worked overtime, on the evening 'B' Shift, as well. When I was off work, and out on a dinner date, he would see us and start staring. Once, out on a lunch date, I was so tired of Darren, just sitting, arms crossed, straddling his bike seat, watching me, that I asked the guy I was out with to go over and take a photo, of Darren, doing that. He wasn't phased, in the least, by my having that 'evidence', though, as he always claimed that he was JUST DOING HIS JOB, by his presence there; which was true but only up to a point. He never admitted to anything else.

My friend, Jim, is an attorney in Omaha. He told me, once, in a conversation that we were having, about my frustration with Darren stalking me, for 11 years, that the City of Omaha wasn't happy with Darren's behavior, either. Only, the city was upset about him working all that overtime, on 'B' Shifts (that also meant, he was around MORE OFTEN, to STALK ME EVEN MORE, while he was DOING THAT). Jim told me, that Darren ended up with a retirement pension from the City of Omaha that put a hardship on the fund, in such a way that was both, selfish and sketchy. Jim said that this was known as "pension spiking"******, and TOOK ADVANTAGE of the system. So, while not in the same way, others knew of Darren's selfishness and 'gaming' the system*******. He was SWORN, TO UPHOLD THE LAW, but, he was STALKING ME, which is a CRIME********. Stalking can be either a felony or a misdemeanor. It is unsettling, intrusive and causes (in the case of Darren doing it to me), physical symptoms of stress, mental distress, and, emotional suffering. 

   

I had a friend named Joe, that occasionally took me to lunch, and also invited me to hear his band's rehearsals, in the basement, of the apartment building, that he managed, downtown. He eventually started to tease me because he had seen, for himself, again, and again, and again, that, Darren, would show up, on his bike, or in his patrol car, and, often hover, around the area, then, on his patrol, any time I was around. On days Joe wanted me to come, hear his band, I would grab a take-out meal from a fast food place as I walked over to meet him, and wait out on the sidewalk, for him to let me in the security entrance of the building. Darren popped up, right away, so many times, and so many places that I went, it was obvious, to Joe and I, that it was too much to be--- that many!--- coincidences. I just kept on ignoring him, wishing that he would stop. It was so annoying. Because, of it, I did not ever feel like I had any privacy. When I was living in the downtown apartment building, when he was still, initially, acting like a friend, and not a skulking stalker, he asked me once in a conversation, if I realized that the rooftop of the restaurant next door was right across from my bedroom window, and that people could go up on the roof, and look in there! Not only, had I NOT, ever thought, about that, but I was afraid to ask him HOW HE KNEW THAT. [When I moved into the loft in the Old Market (because, I got it for about half price, on a rent special, that I happened to come across, while walking in the Old Market, one day, and seeing the sign; and it was a great location), Darren would go over to the parking garage that was facing my apartment windows, and look in, from there; although, he wasn't the only guy that did that, unfortunately. Other times, he would just stand around, underneath my apartment windows. Especially, on a nice day, when, I had the windows open.]

One Autumn afternoon, when I was sitting on the couch, up in my apartment, just reading a magazine, and relaxing, before work, I suddenly heard this, weird, type, of echoing voice, in the otherwise perfect quiet I had been enjoying just moments

before. I could not figure out--- WHAT, on earth!?!--- that WAS, but it was coming from outside my building. Going over to the window, and looking down toward the street, I saw Darren, sitting in his police cruiser. He had driven it right up onto the sidewalk, just beneath, my apartment windows, and was using his bullhorn, in the car, to CALL UP TO ME, saying, through it, "DEBORAH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" It was, bizarre! It was creepy. It was intrusive, and disturbing. I stood there, looking down, trying to decide, what, if anything, I should try to do, about it. At first, I sat back down on the couch, trying to resume what I had been doing, before this, and I hoped he would JUST GO AWAY. He called up to me, AGAIN, and AGAIN, on that bullhorn, though, and I was really starting to wonder, what all the neighbors were THINKING ABOUT THIS, and HOW MANY of THEM were now, ALSO standing there, at their apartment windows, SEEING THIS COP and HEARING HIM CALL UP TO ME on this POLICE BULLHORN! I was CRINGING, at this point. Pissed off, now, I went downstairs and out the front door of the building to confront Darren about it, but, as SOON as I GOT THERE, he drove off, when he saw me. Proving, he was simply HARASSING ME, and not even trying, to start a conversation, with me, with doing this to me. He was ASKING, "Deborah, what are you doing?" but he obviously did not want an answer to this question, that he had taken a BULLHORN to ASK ME. I went back upstairs, to my apartment, but, about 10 minutes later, HE WAS BACK, and DID IT AGAIN! This pattern repeated itself about 5 times! He would call up to me on the bullhorn in his police cruiser, I would try to go outside, to confront him, and he drove off as soon as he saw me. This is not someone WANTING TO KNOW what I am DOING. THIS, is NOT, someone doing some 'harmless' FLIRTING. THIS is a STALKER, REPEATEDLY HARASSING THEIR TARGETED VICTIM, for some SICK PLEASURE that they DERIVED FROM DOING THIS to a private, law-abiding citizen that was sitting alone in their HOME RELAXING and READING, before THIS began.

This JOKER was making my life MISERABLE! Some people, try to blame the victim of rape, which is also a crime, by focusing on what the person that was raped was wearing. NO OUTFIT CAUSES RAPE. While, I had originally done some, superficial, flirting, with Darren, WHEN HE'D WALKED UP TO ME (AND MEN, I WAS ON DATES WITH at the time), during the years that I was 'Stevie' I did that type of harmless flirting with, 99% of the men, I encountered; from the guy that I wanted to make a customized pizza for me, at Zio's, to the horse-drawn carriage driver, that I was chatting with as I sat listening to a street musician in the Old Market while he was waiting for a fare. I DID NOT HAVE 99% of the men, that I interacted with, in this vivacious and sociable, although, sometimes, slightly nuanced way, STALKING ME. There is frequently an undertone of sexual energy, between men and women that are interacting with one another. We are different genders. There is an awareness of that fact that none of us can deny, which, I daresay, usually affects the way we approach and deal with one another. At least, to some extent. If the flirting that I did with men during those years was an invitation to, or a reason for, stalking me, I would have had HUNDREDS OF MEN doing that, to me, instead of JUST this COP.

Also, because Darren did so MUCH of this, for so LONG, and I kept trying to make sense, of it, if only to be able to live my life, more comfortably, with some degree of RECONCILING MYSELF to THE FACT OF IT happening to me, in an ongoing way, I asked, some of the dancers, that I worked with, what they thought, was causing it, and we all ended up thinking that he knew, he was 'the runt of the litter' of the cops, on the beat, and that--- just like, a little boy, pulling the pigtails, of the girl, sitting in front of him, in class-- he, probably, had a crush, on me, and 'acted out' in how he showed that because he very likely had poor self-esteem. In some way or other, he had to have measured himself, against the guys he worked with, and found himself lacking, whether it was his build, his prowess, or even his baldness. Some men feel very inadequate, simply because of their hair loss. One day, when  I was in the Old Market, which was like, a micro-community, in itself, including, it having, a very active, and rapid, GOSSIP 'grapevine' going, someone came up, to me, and said, "Did you hear, what just happened to Darren, about an hour, or so, ago? He was over in the park, and confronted a woman, who was sitting there on a park bench, smoking a joint, . . . and (they started laughing, at this point) she, just looked at him, completely calmly, and stood up, and BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF HIM! Can you BELIEVE IT?!" When I caught sight of him not long after I was told that, he was sitting in a chair, close to the old couple that had an ice cream shop, on the corner, in those days, looking very sullen, and suddenly, not so sociable. I thought, he looked, just like any little boy, that ran home, to mommy and daddy, after the neighborhood bully beat him up, and took his ice cream money. KARMA.

Because he CONSTANTLY HARRASSED ME by STALKING me, for SO MANY YEARS, I developed a specific strain, in my neck, from looking back, over my shoulder, all the time, to, more often, than not, see him there, watching me, and following me. There are COUNTLESS MORE EXAMPLES, of these things, that he put me through, JUST BECAUSE HE COULD. When I took my trash bag to the dumpster behind the apartment building Darren pulled the cruiser up into the alley so close to my body that he PINNED ME between the car and the trash bin. I had to sidle sideways, to get myself free, while he just sat there, in the driver's seat of the car, laughing at me. Another time, I was walking back, to my apartment, after spending time with some friends, in the Old Market, and he jumped into his cruiser, just as I left, that area. As I rounded the corner, and was, almost, to the front door, of where I lived, he suddenly drove the police car, OFF the STREET, right up ONTO THE SIDEWALK, nearly hitting me, before stopping, and just sitting there smirking, as I fled inside.

This was, very psychologically mind-blowing behaviors, to me. So, one day, trying to overcompensate for his bizarre behaviors toward me, in a failed attempt to get him to stop doing this, to me, I went up to him, and told him that I thought that I loved him. I never did. I resented him, and I feared him now. I was tormented by him. But, somehow, in my attempts to comprehend why, this was happening, and what, I was going through, with this person, some, mental, juggling, of the actual facts happened in my head. There's a quote that was applicable to this nightmare which has been attributed to several sources, including the book 'The Art Of War', which this certainly felt like, to me. THIS was a war with this stalker, that I hadn't wanted, to enter into, at all, in the first place. It was a war, for MY LIFE, and even  for MY SANITY. I had become, willing, to pledge my affection, to this creep, if that was what he was after, in order to have, some semblance of a 'normal' life, again. That, saying, is, "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer." I even had to get drunk to be able to articulate that to him. I had been wrecked by all this crap. When I told him that, it didn't stop the stalking. It didn't help me understand why, EVEN AFTER THAT, Darren KEPT DOING THIS TO ME. It just HUMILIATED ME even further, because, HIS REACTION to THAT, was to literally LAUGH IN MY FACE, and TELL ME THAT I WAS CRAZY. THAT part was TRUE now, but HE DROVE ME THERE.

If you have (been lucky, enough, that you have) never gone through this--- being stalked, as I was, relentlessly, for over a decade, of my life, just by, this one man, then you may not be able to grasp, all the complexities, and mental maneuvering, that take place, in the victim's head, simply, in a, desperate, attempt, to reconcile the reality of this unwanted 'relationship' with the other parts of oneself and one's life. I remember, when Patty Hearst, was kidnapped, many years ago, and people, could not comprehend, WHY she ended up carrying a gun and helping her captors commit crimes! That was, the first time, I ever heard, anything, about 'Stockholm Syndrome'. This blog post is already quite lengthy, and frankly I am tired, now, as writing all this, about my life, in these posts, is very challenging, for me, mentally and emotionally (since, I have to, in effect, go back in time, and RELIVE, all these things, in order to be able to describe them here, now). It is VERY TAXING for me. So, I will give you the definition of that, and if you wish to Google it, and research it, for yourselves, you may certainly do that. I'm a fan of lifelong learning. Here it is: 'Stockholm Syndrome', is defined as "feelings of trust or affection felt in many cases of kidnapping or hostage-taking by a victim toward a captor." I believe that is what happened to me, toward this mental abuser, this monster, THIS COP, that was STALKING me, day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year. Disrupting my life, destroying my sense of peace and privacy, affecting and, interfering with, my real life relationships. I was CONFINED; like A CAPTIVE.

I remember standing in the park, one, summer, afternoon, just listening, to a live band playing, when a nice-looking man came up to me and began trying to get to know me. But, Darren, was standing there, nearby, as an ever-present 'threat', to my freedom to JUST BE 'ME'. He was watching me closely, and by that time I was completely under the mind control of his actions, regarding me. He had imprinted me, psychologically, to be 'his', in some sick way, and I didn't want him coming at me with the police cruiser up on the sidewalk again, or pulling his bicycle between me and this nice man who was trying to talk to me now. I felt totally controlled by Darren. I felt panicky, seeing him, see this man, trying to talk to me. So, I turned  to this man, and said something that was the COMPLETE OPPOSITE of what I was ACTUALLY FEELING. I WANTED, to meet, a NICE guy, and maybe have, a healthy, happy, relationship, in my life! But, by then, my mind and emotions had been, so conditioned, by Darren, that I didn't think I was ALLOWED TO, BY HIM. The silent stalker, that followed me, EVERYWHERE, ALL THE TIME, but, had also, laughed in my face when, beaten down by it all, I finally approached him to try to determine if a real relationship with me, was what he was actually after. I had really wanted to talk, to that man, in the park! Instead, seeing Darren, standing off to the side, straddling his bicycle, watching me closely, I turned toward him and with a, crazy sounding, desperation, in my voice, I said, "I AM JUST HERE, TO LISTEN, TO THE MUSIC! LEAVE ME ALONE!" He, rightfully, looked shocked at my outburst, and he backed away, from me. Darren smirked. I had said to that man, what I had really wanted to say, to this stalker cop. Only, after so long, I knew, that, it was no use. He had shown me, convinced me, BRAINWASHED ME, that he would, never, stop.   

So, it wasn't even about, him liking me, or wanting me to like him. He was just a monster! I, finally, ended up turning him in, to the Internal Affairs department of the Omaha Police Department. The, female, sergeant who looked into my written complaint about Darren doing this to me called me up and simply said to me that he was called in, and asked if he did this, and that he said no. She said that as if, of COURSE, a COP, wouldn't be LYING, so it MUST BE ME, and so, END OF STORY. It was so frustrating and insulting. Of course, he didn't stop, even after I filed the complaint about it. It just emboldened him, even more, because he was believed, and free to go on his merry way making MY life MISERABLE without suffering any of the consequences, for his (illegal) actions. His behavior, and their, backing him up, just based on his word, when I had been willing to make my complaint about  it IN WRITING, created, a mental meltdown, for me, at that point. I KNEW, that I was NOT IMAGINING any of this. I KNEW, it was the TRUTH. That, I was TELLING the TRUTH! But I was tired, stressed, vulnerable, and not only, being stalked, but gaslighted*********, as well. Tragically, I sank into despair over it all as I began to question, my own reality, and my ability, to deal well, with whatever, that even was. I did end up, moving away, as far west, as I could go, in Omaha, and still be able to access the city bus system which I used to avoid all the expenses of a car.  I had loved everything about my life, in the downtown/Old Market area that I had always lived in, but I felt that I had to leave it all behind including not even going there, to visit my friends, or go on dates, because of Darren ruining it by stalking. I GAVE IT ALL UP, to get away from him, because I couldn't deal with it, anymore. 

Because of Darren, I had to leave behind, my favorite apartment, when I moved, as well as all my friends, and support system, in the downtown/Old Market, area, that had been home to me, for decades. Even after I left everything, that I cared most about, behind me, just, to get Darren, out of my life, I ran into a co-worker, of his--- another cop--- one day, at my new job working as a retail clerk in a mall department store. I was wearing my store name tag which this guy saw on me. I cringed, wondering if he would say something to Darren about where I was when  I had, deliberately, disappeared, and left, everything, behind, that, I cared about, in my, former, life downtown, just to get him out of my life! Not long afterward, I was walking in the food court of the mall where I worked, during my lunch break, and someone suddenly stepped directly in front of me, nose to nose, blocking my path. I had been looking down, as I walked, but I saw their feet suddenly appear, in my path. Stopping short, in mid-step, I looked up, to see who had done that--- thinking it was a co-worker or friend trying to startle me out of my daydream as I walked along. But, it was DARREN! Just standing there. IN MY FACE. Smirking, at me. I turned, and fled, and went outside, trying to escape him, again. Soon after, this happened, a police cruiser began parking over by the weeds that were beside my apartment complex, that I had moved to. I always liked to live close to where  I was working so I could come and go easily on foot no matter what my schedule was. So, the place I had moved to, when I moved away from the Old Market, due to Darren, was directly across the street from the mall, that I had gotten a job in.  I'd never seen that police car, sitting there, before seeing Darren in the mall, that day. I did not know, if it was him, or whether, he had, changed precincts, once he (obviously) found out where I had gone. I did not look right at the cruiser. I never knew, because, I NEVER WANTED TO KNOW. What, I DID know, was that, I could not, mentally, and emotionally, cope, with going through that, with him, again. Of course, there is ALOT MORE to this and MUCH MORE than I can cover in (even my LONG) blog posts. But, this is a very good overview of the situation. I will need to continue to explain in future posts how all this led to my becoming a prostitute for a short time. This, post, just laid out, the foundational, background, for all of that. 

[NOTE: As I was sorting stacks of old papers and pictures, in October of 2022, to get rid of more of them now, due to space limitations, I found a photo (below) of the actual officer that this post is about. The very one that stalked me, for years. It is not a very clear photo, but I think that it is the only one that I have of him.]

* community policing - the system of allocating police officers to particular areas so that they become familiar with the local inhabitants.

** gold lame - a type of fabric woven or knit with thin ribbons of metallic fiber
     

*** voyeur - someone who obtains sexual gratification from observing unsuspecting individuals who are partly undressed, naked, or engaged in sexual acts; broadly: someone who habitually seeks sexual stimulation by visual means

**** The TV character, Barney Fife, law enforcement officer: 

***** Jaywalking - Jaywalking occurs, when a pedestrian walks in or crosses a roadway that has traffic, other than at a suitable crossing point, or otherwise in disregard of traffic rules.

****** Pension spiking:

Pension spiking

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Pension spiking, sometimes referred to as "salary spiking", is the process whereby public sector employees are granted large raises, bonuses, incentives or otherwise artificially inflate their compensation in the time immediately preceding retirement in order to receive larger pensions than they otherwise would be entitled to receive. This artificially inflates the pension payments due to the retirees.

Upon retirement any employee transitions from receiving a paycheck from the employer to a pension check drawn on the assets of the retirement fund; this amount is typically determined as a percentage of the employee's regular salary by state law or statute. When an employee due to retire receives a "spike", the amount of money the employee will receive does not reflect the percentage of salary the employee and employer haves contributed for the majority of the employee's career, and places a burden on the economic viability of the pension fund. This practice is considered a significant contributor to the high cost of public sector pensions.

******* Gaming the system:

Gaming the system - Wikipedia
https://en.wikipedia.org › wiki › Gaming_the_system

Gaming the system (also rigging, abusing, cheating, milking, playing, working, or breaking the system, or gaming or bending the rules) can be defined as using the rules and procedures meant to protect a system to, instead, manipulate the system for a desired outcome.

******** Stalking:

WHAT IS STALKING?

The term “stalking” means engaging in a course of conduct directed at a specific person that would cause a reasonable person to fear for his or her safety or the safety of others or suffer substantial emotional distress. https://www.justice.gov/ovw/stalking

Stalking is a crime. It is an offence under the Crimes (Domestic and Personal Violence) Act 2007. Stalking is defined under this law and includes:

‘the following of a person about or the watching or frequenting of the vicinity of, or an approach to a person’s place of residence, business or work or any place that a person frequents for the purposes of any social or leisure activity’.

Stalking involves a persistent course of conduct or actions by a person which are intended to maintain contact with or exercise power and control over another person. These actions cause distress, loss of control, fear or harassment to another person and occur more than once.

Stalking can involve threats or sexual innuendo and the stalker generally tries to intimidate or induce fear in the person they are stalking. The person being stalked may only realise they are being stalked once they identify a pattern of strange or suspicious incidents occurring, such as:
phone calls
text messages
messages left on social media sites such as Facebook and Twitter etc.
notes left on the their car
strange or unwanted gifts left at their home
an awareness that they are being followed
being continually stared at or gestured to by another person.

The person being stalked can often develop a sense of loss of control over their lives and can be forced into changing their routine and behaviours.

https://www.police.nsw.gov.au/crime/domestic_and_family_violence/what_is_stalking

I NEVER, KNEW WHY, Darren DID THIS, TO ME, and for SO LONG. It GREATLY and NEGATIVELY impacted my life. The, following, article profiles the different types of stalkers, and attempts to, shed some light, on why, each one behaves as they do:

https://www.stalkingriskprofile.com/what-is-stalking/types-of-stalking

********* gaslight - manipulate (someone) by psychological means into questioning their own sanity.