Kimberley Rose

Rest Darling, Boudica I love you.

I'm sorry.

Men are not my work.

Yes, they are welcome.

But, they are not my work.

You are my work.

I love you.

I am here.

I care for you.

For you, your babies.

They are safe.

You are safe.

Come rest darling Boudica.

Be still my love,

and rest safely here in my arms, on my lap.

Drink in the fire.

Let her warm your soul.

Drink until you are full.

Then rest some more.

Let your babies curl around you.

Sleep.

Sleep precious little souls, you are safe.

Let the fire warm you.

Drink her in until you are full and rest.

Rest precious souls until you are ready the rise.

Rest my precious dear souls,

Curl around the fire and drink until you are whole.

Precious souls.

It was not your fault.

You are not to blame.

But you are here to heal.

Let the fire dress you in her flames like bandages to our wounds.

Rest until you are full.

Then the day when you are ready to rise,

You will rise whole.

You will rise full.

You will rise ready.

Ready to lick the world and touch the souls the way the fire touched us, with her fierce flames.

But for now, rest dear souls until you are full.

Being Human

Surrender to flow,

Flow to Surrender.

It’s okay,

All is allowed,

All is welcome.

Surrender to flow,

Flow to surrender.

Bring your anger,

Swell in your fear,

Bask in your thrill, and

Shrink in your shame.

It’s okay.

All is welcome,

All that’s here.

Bring it dear Human,

Bring it all.

Surrender to flow,

Flow to surrender.

Fight your elation,

Wear your tears,

Proud with shame,

Bring it.

Bring it all.

Surrender to flow,

Flow to surrender.

One day, you’ll die.

It’s not a lie.

One day, you will no longer be here.

How will you journey your ride?

Give your tears to the earth,

Show the generations all your worth.

Shine bright,

Shrink small.

All is welcome,

Allow it all.

Surrender to flow,

Flow to surrender.

Allow your voice,

Get fucked up and rejoice.

Let the forest whisper softly in your ears, and

Give her all your delicate fears.

All is allowed.

Wrapped in silk and linen shroud.

Surrender to flow,

Flow to surrender.

Feel it all.

Be it all.

Absorb and free yourself, of it all.

Because, that’s all there is.

You are welcome in it all.

Exactly as you are.

Perfect and imperfect,

Big and small.

Love and hate,

And whatever is separate.

Surrender to flow.

Woman.

You are so beautiful. 

You doubt me, I know. Why would you believe me? 

Condemned.

Burned. 

Overruled. 

Judged.

Betrayed. 

Condensed. 

Ridiculed.

But in the face of it all, the face of the devil of objectification, you rise. 🔥 

Made to feel small, your power too big, too deep, too wide for man. 

Your breasts, your bum, your womb bearing tum. 

Made to be small, you must be pretty and tidy, that is all. 

Your eyes to the ground, your underwear large, your skirt worn long. 

After all, you don’t want to be that girl that’s asking for it, come on now love.

Alone in the park, you carry your house key like a knife. 

Convinced your just afraid of the dark, not his need or the plight. 

When he presses down against you, the smell, the taste, the tears. 

Underneath it all you see his mummy’s fears. 

Fuck you, you scream. Not me, not you, not the system, or the cunning schemes. 

Alone in the wilderness, alone and bare. 

Naked in flesh with only the wombs truth to share. 

Tall you stand with waters of those gone before us, we cry. 

Rest we shall, rest deep in her bosom. 

Pachamama hold us and let us rest a while. 

For we have been burned, shamed and scorned. 

By the ones we trusted and the ones we borned. 

Rest a while and let me hear her again. 

My womb is awake, rested and shed, real not fake. 

Where the fuck you’s once were, is I love you instead. 

I feel your pain, your shame and I only wish peace would reign again. 

The tribes long gone, communities forgotten. 

Alone we rest, in sheds with mess. 

Your company I crave before I decend further into this grave. 

Where are you now? 

Woman. You are strong. With wisdom humane.

You womb knows the way. 

Listen, listen carefully she knows what to say. 

She knows the way. 

You are the way. 

The way we long to return to unconditional love. 

Can you forgive me he says. Hold me tight while I tend to my wounds. 

For the wounds I heal will serve you and me both. 

Pachamama we are you, strong and mighty, united, forever you. 

We rise together giving thanks a new. Forever loved, free of shame. 

Let me talk to you about this feminism thing, yeah. 

3 years ago whilst working at a restaurant, I had my boss stroke and caress my ass behind the bar while he looked and smiled at his wife only a meter from where we stood, yeah. 

But it didn’t start there. 

4 years ago, there was the time I was offered a pay rise if only I would go down to the cellar and suck him dry. After all, my lips were created for more than just talking, yeah.

But it didn’t start there. 

5 years ago, I had to call the police, he wouldn’t leave me alone. But it’s 6 of one and half a dozen of the other, yeah. 

I lay there, “where can I come baby? On your tits, yeah. Oh I’m sorry I hit your face, did I get it in your eye. It’s alright, yeah.”

But it didn’t start there. 

6 years ago, he asked if I wanted to see his new kitchen, but that somehow translated that I was definitely up for it, yeah. 

But it didn’t start there. 

“You love it hard yeah, do this for me and you know it means I love you yeah.”

“Come on we’re mates, you know you’ll like it, just let me put it in yeah.”

“Bend over you cunt, let me know show you what it takes to be my women yeah.”

“You’re so much better than her, prettier than her, I really do love you more than her.”

“You’re special baby, real fucking special, you let me fuck your ass like you don’t even care.”

“Look how wide your legs go, do your hips hurt? Oh well, I’ll come yeah?”

But it didn’t start there. Or there, nor there.

“Look at your mum, she’s a good fuck yeah.”

“I don’t hurt mummy, I do this because I love her yeah.”

“Fuck off and go somewhere else yeah.”

It may have started there. 

So ask me, am I a feminist yeah? 

Should I fix my make-up and straighten my hair? 

Should I took that bit in there? 

I shouldn’t wrinkle or frown or stare. 

But instead, smile and grin and bear. 

That’s what I do best, yeah?

I can’t lose my temper, get angry or be cross. 

I can’t be financially stable, or my own boss. 

Really I should just shut up, look pretty and put on my lip glass. 

For God’s sake baby don’t get emotional.

Don’t be too much.

Be intelligent but not too intelligent. 

The truth is bitches, I am my own boss. 

I am emotional, I lose my shit and I fucking hate lip gloss. 

My hair is long, but not because it makes me pretty. 

Sometimes it straight, sometimes it curly. But to be honest I have no idea. 

My tits are big and damn they’re pretty. 

But not for your touch, not for your glare not for your dick, are you aware?

You better listen up boy, but first let go of your mama’s pinny. 

I close the book on your demands.  You should stand up tall, you’re talking to your boss, love. 

I hold myself and moan with pleasure at my hand, my touch, my will, my want. 

Drink your own spunk and be a fucking good boy, darling 

For those who couldn’t speak. 

For those who where too scared, unable to or didn’t know how to. 

Ask me. Ask. Go on.

I should. I should. I should.

I should please you with my bank balance, my 55” screen tv, my iPhone, my smile, my cleavage, my tone, my touch, my open legs, my closed legs, I should put some make up on.

I shouldn’t embarrass myself. I shouldn’t sing.

If I dare to love I shouldn’t love too deep.

I should lie and tell you I’m alright and in return ask you “if you’re okay?” But listen with empty ears.

I shouldn’t make a fool of you.

I should die to please you and when I do, I should do it quietly and not make a fuss.

But my shoulders aren’t big enough to hold all the shoulds. I’m already bearing the coulds and woulds.

I want to die with the nows. I want to rebirth in every waking second of the today’s. I want my tears to be welcomed as though they were my smiles. I want authenticity at 2pm the same as at 3am. And when we die, I want to die whole.

As I stand here naked and alone. Tell me what you see? Can you look at me now, or does my past blind you like a solar eclipse? I am weak because I know strong. My scars are my story, but they are not my body. Through me runs wild blood, rosy red and rouge. I am a woman. We are women. The circle of trust broken and wading, fucked by the dick of patriarchy. Mended by the glances through tears and pain. We rise dear sister. We rise.   But will you look away when I drink my death? Where will you look when I shed my tears? Can you feel me in the place I have yet to meet myself? I love you, because, yes. I love myself. Will you take me in my power when it reflects your shadow? When you question who you are, will you let me look? Can I care for you when you disregard the rules? Can you meet me in the simplicity that beholds my eye? Where will you go while I learn my no?

Is your adult behaviour pre-set according to your childhood experiences?

Last year I came across a Ted Talk by a beautiful woman called Dr Nadine Burke accidentally on Facebook. It was a blessing. In this 16 minute clip, Dr Burke details how trauma we experience in our childhood affect our health and gave specific percentages on how these people are more likely to suffer depression and at a higher risk of committing suicide. During her talk Dr Burke referred to a study carried out in 1995 called the ACE Study. The study analyses a range of trauma including physical abuse, sexual abuse, emotional abuse, physical neglect, emotional neglect, mother treated violently, household substance abuse, household mental illness, parental separation or divorce and incarcerated household member. The study also found that when adults answer 4 or more questions with a yes, there are at a higher risk of dying early to be specific a 20 year reduction in life expectancy. ACE’s are almost certain to suffer heart disease, auto-immune diseases, lung cancer. Just as you are probably eager to take the test, I jumped straight to Google and took the ACE Test. I scored a 9 out of 10. At the time I was suffering with severe anxiety, depression, fighting suicide as well as seeking medical attention for early signs of MS, going under surgery for Morton’s Neuroma. To hear Dr Burke’s talk was like the heavens had just opened and God had given me the answers. Finally there was a reason as to why I was suffering.

Last week I went to watch a film called Resilience. It was about the ACE Study and the impact it has on society. After the film finished I was chatting with some of the others in the audience and the majority had never heard of the study prior to this. This is why I’m writing this blog post. I will post links to the test, the findings and Dr Burkes talk at the end.

When I shared with a friend that my result was quite high. He was shocked, given his knowing of my lifestyle, he asked why am I so different? Why do I defy the odds of the Ace Study? My only answer is - the Grace of God. I have no answer as to why I have been saved. I could easily have been one of the homeless people I so desperately what to help. I could easily still be an addict, a street worker. But the truth is I do fall into the statistics. The only difference is I fought very hard to claw my way out of that pre-destined way of life.

I wanted to share this, because if you’re going through a shit time right now. Fighting the constant darkness of depression or the mighty voice of suicide. Maybe all this will help and know it’s not your fault. It seems the ACE Study hasn’t made it’s way to the UK yet, so spread the word. What we experienced as children does not have to determine what we are like as adults. But in order for all this to change we have to be aware of the pre-determined path that we are walking in order for us to change course.

The ACE Study Test 

The ACE Study Findings 

Before you get your hopes up and look to read this article about what happens on these retreats, I left on Day 2 due to a kidney infection. Was it a  psychosomatic manifestation? I would like to believe so, as the days that followed brought lessons of their own. Here is my story. 

During the time I spent in meditation at Vipassana it was absolute torture. For those unfamiliar with the retreat it’s a 10 day silent retreat dedicating 10 hours a day to meditation starting at 4.30am, along with 3 small meals throughout the day and no talking, reading or writing. You must denounce all your beliefs and any coping structure you may have used in the past. The fundamental element of the retreat is to know your misery by entering into the direct epicentre of it and thus being able to completely ‘know thyself.’ The belief is that, if you know what makes you miserable you can change it.

It’s truly a soul exposing experience, especially if your natural disposition is to think yourself as shit, like me!

Day 1 I entered the group mediation space, ohh I might also add at this point I went to the retreat with my ex. We signed up to do this when we were dating and as we have decided to end the relationship by mutual agreement just before Christmas and we both thought it would be fine. Ha! Ha! 

So, anyway back to it, Day 1 I entered into the group mediation space feeling confident and ready. I can meditate, I mediate several times a day at home, unguided on average for 40 minutes or more, I’m comfortable with who I am, right?! Ha! Ha!  

I’m not sure if you’ve ever stopped talking before, I hadn’t up until this point. But what I discovered was when I stopped drowning out my thoughts with constant verbal chatter, the mind chatter dial goes from 3 to 100 in a very short space of time. There was no way to control it, my mind was completely out of control and my thoughts had no pattern, no direction and made little sense. One moment I would be thinking about if I could have done anything to save my relationship then the next I was thinking about the possibility of sweat glands in my dogs nose and were they similar to humans sweat glands and if so were they similar to the eccrine or apocrine types? There I was trying to follow the simple instructions from the teacher to breathe innnnn and ouuuuut. That’s all I had to do was breathe. Just breathe. I couldn’t do it. I would get 2 breathes in and there you go I’m thinking again…is my ex looking over at me? Does Darth Vada wear deodorant? What was the % of oxygen we breathe in? 24 or 16?! Argh! By the 10th hour of the meditation practice on day 1 my mind began to quiet. I could sit completely still for the full hour, focus on several breaths and if my mind would wonder I could bring it back to my breathing in a relatively short time. I thought, my goodness I can actually do this. I’ve got it. I’d noticed several people were struggling with sitting in the same position for such a long time. But I was actually okay. So Day 1 was done, just another 9 to go! 

That was until I awoke the morning after and knew something was wrong, my back was in agony and when I went to the toilet I knew it wasn’t looking good. I spoke to the teacher and immediately I was asked to leave.

I was abruptly dumped at Grange-Over-Sands train station in the snow with an epic 4 hour journey back to Sheffield and by this time the infection was beginning to spread and I was now vomiting. Attractive, I know! Wearing my mediation outfit, which really looked like I’d escaped a mental asylum, stood in the snow, my 20kg backpack on my shoulders and swimming in the shame that I’d failed, I burst into tears at the desolate train station. I felt I had let everyone down, how could I face going home? I rang my doctor to make sure there was a prescription of antibiotics waiting for me as soon as I arrived home, but was told to get myself straight to the hospital my condition did not sound good. Oh really, I thought. Great, maybe I was ill enough to leave after all. The doctors tone had help me justify my failure and I then spent the rest of the evening in the lovely Northern General Hospital out of it on codine.

During my time in the hospital I decided I wouldn’t tell anyone I was home, keep it a secret and continue as though I was on the retreat. Stick to the same schedule of getting up at 4am, in meditation a 4.30 - 6.30 then a light breakfast before going back into mediation and so on. That was until it came to getting up at 4am. The first day I was at home I managed to get up at 4am but instead of going into the mediation I felt the need to write, and that I did until I had nothing more to write. What I wrote I am going to share with you now.

I started scribbling the words: Ego, fear, shame, restlessness, success, achievement, value, reputation, pleasure. All the words with meanings that were signs I believed made me a ‘something’, a ‘somebody’. If I serve all these factors I will receive the approval of others, I will mean something and I’ll finally be that somebody I’ve always sought out to be. All the manifestations of a neurological pathway conditioned to make me think I had to suffer to be somebody. I had to sacrifice my true self in order to fit in. But, hang on, what happens when I don’t feed into my ego? I don’t want to operate in fear anymore. I’m sick of suffering in shame. What is success? How have my achievements served me thus far in life? Who gives a fuck about my reputation? What gives me pleasure? Who decided my value? Valuable to whom?

For the past 4 days I have sat with every piece of literature I own regarding these words specifically. It was like I had an agenda sent direct from God. I have listened to talks by Dwain Dyer, Jung, Neale Donald Walsh, Eckhart Tolle, Marianne Williamson, I have prayed, mediated, watched, written and listened and what I have come to know is this.  

We should make it our souls purpose to seek approval from the self. 

We can’t act from a place of love if we are full of fear. 

E.G.O is as simple as Edging God Out.

I didn’t need to attend the full Vipassana retreat to learn my epicentre of misery is feeling unloved and I am so damn scared of rejection that I have spent 35 years moulding myself around other peoples opinions just to seek their approval and falling short because in reality no one gives a shit about my achievements. Seeking to achieve others approval it’s unsustainable because my actions are performed from a place of fear. Without the love I seek so desperately, I will forever identify with the things I am not.

I had this opinion that the journey of healing had an end point. That I will at some point reach this Buddha-Yoda like self that levitates my way through the difficult stages in life simply, emotionless and untouchable. But what I’ve learnt over the last 4 days is, life is the journey and the end point is death of the physical form. Who wants to rush that? I will suffer many ego-deaths along the way, no doubt and I will achieve some ‘levitational’ chapters of the authentic higher-self, but not without the bumps, thumps, bruises and scars along the way. What I know now is, that we are in essence a spectacular soul having a human experience. The experiential polarity of all the elements, life has to offer us is what makes this journey so exciting. We shy away from the darkness, sadness, depression, anger because we consider them to be ‘bad’. But how can they be bad? When we understand that without them we wouldn’t know the ‘good’, which can be defined as happiness, light, joy, love. It all sounds so simple but we make it so complicated when we choose to shy away from the bad with medication, alcohol, smoking, sex. We’d do anything not to feel the shame of our actions, even if that means repeating them. At least that’s been the case for me. But what if we told ourselves a new story? What if we were able to trace new neurological pathways? A path that meant even in the ‘bad’ times we could see the ‘good’? What if we didn’t wait to seek approval from others and filled the void with approval from the self? If we told ourselves ‘well done we did a good job today’ and stopped waiting for someone else to tell us? What if the love we so desperately sought from others came to us from our own heart?

The experiences we search for in life might not have the result we anticipated. But that’s where the real fun begins. 

Last night I had a dream, no this is not some Matrin Luther King speech, so bear with me! In that dream I was sexually assaulted by a man, it was a man I knew, but not one that I am familiar with. Then throughout the rest of the dream I was on the run from being attacked again by this man. Filled with fear, fright and despair I went to friends houses to seek refuge and full of hope that they may be able to protect me. During the dream I felt vulnerable and scared. I’m not sure of the transition period but later in the dream I found myself drinking in a bar, alone. Surround by people but again no one I knew. I was approached by my attacker and this time instead of running scared I stood up to him. I told this man that I was no longer scared of him, that I knew the pain and suffering he had inflicted on to me was only the pain and suffering he was harbouring within himself. I left myself open and vulnerable to this man, showed him compassion and gave him a key (if someone knows what the key means please share.) With all of this I then became empowered, not just in my feminine but in my soul.

I’m a huge believer in the interpretation of dreams and I have some idea of what it all means in my personal life. However what the dream highlighted to me is a greater spectrum of hate. We hate people because they are more ‘successful’ than we are, they have a bigger car, a bigger house, a better job… We hate ourselves because we’re not thin enough, we’re not pretty… We compete with other women over men…. The list can go on and on. It’s as through it is second nature for us to hate on one another. It does not have to be this way. Do you believe me when I tell you that? 

Let me ask you a question. If you were at a party with your partner and you came into contact with someone that your partner had slept with, prior to you being together, what would be your reaction? 

Recently I was at a festival when I came into contact with another woman who my partner had slept with. My immediate response was to ‘hate’ on this woman. By hate, I mean compare myself to her, think either she is less or I am less. Thankfully prior to meeting this beautiful woman I had just done a woman’s workshop and beyond my immediate reaction came a huge amount of empathy. All three of us were in a situation that didn’t make any of us feel comfortable. Hate was not going to solve this situation and I was the driving force of the outcome. So instead of hate I chose empathy and I hugged this woman, a sister. Some of you may read this and think I’m mad and that’s okay. But the reality in this, is I chose to love myself in a very bizarre situation. I chose not to hate myself, nor to compare myself with another. I chose to see beauty in all my flaws and in all my brilliance. I chose to see God and I embraced this woman as a sister. When we project hate on another, it’s like a mirror. We are only demonstrating the hate we feel for ourselves. If we act jealously, it’s usually because we are afraid of our actions not our partners. If we act in vengeance, it’s because of the pain we are carrying within us. 

Later in the festival I attended a Jewels Wingfield workshop. If you don’t know who this woman is, and it doesn’t matter if you are a woman or a man, get to know her. She is an incredible woman showing us the way. 

Change is hard…

We are programmed from a young age to create an identity our ideals as a manifestation of who we are, however this is more about what we do than who we are. These elements are two different entities. For example if you would have asked me 6 months ago ‘who are you?’ I would have addressed my self as a business owner, connected my identity with lifestyle activities, illnesses and maybe some of my addictions. We all do it. It’s exceptionally normal and it’s even more acceptable to hear the response identify with that. It’s how we relate as humans and then find similarities in order to connect with one another.

The End. 

Once upon a time, there was a little girl. From birth the girl was cast aside, considered a nuisance. As a result of existing she was locked away while her parents went on with their lives. 

The little girl was sad. She was alone and wanted to make friends. She would often talk to the little creatures that creeped into her room, but they didn’t stay long and she was alone again. 

One day when the little girl was big enough she broke free. She climbed down the edge of the castle and when her bare feet reached the floor, she ran. She ran and ran, as fast as she could and as far away as possible. She ran free from the trappings, free from the sadness. She was free to be free. 

When the girl stopped running, she found herself in the forest. Surrounded by magnificence and radiance. So much life and light. She laid down to rest in her new home and no longer was she sad. As she watched the life around her evolve she learned. It wasn’t long before she built her new home and a lovely comfy bed. 

Bloody Hell... This hippy shit actually works! 

**Warning content includes talk of periods, contraception and real life stuff**

In November of 2015 I was diagnosed with something called Morton’s Neuroma. This is a condition where benign tumours grow in the feet where the nerves are and can be incredibly painful. Some are blessed and can have these tumours and not even know. I, on the other had was not one of the blessed and one of the tumours which was a juicy 7cm long caused me great pain, until I had it taken out earlier this year. 

In the summer of 2016, I started with mild tremors in my hands, later that year my eye sight would distort and send me dizzy. In January I was at the stage where I had weaknesses in my hands, I dropped things more often than not, my legs had started giving way randomly, I was forgetting how to spell words that have ever been a problem for me before, my speech was sometimes slurred and I completely forgot my Mother’s birthday yesterday. 

I’m not telling you all this for a pity party, far from it. This is obviously a scary time for me and I have been to the doctors numerous times. Their primary diagnosis was depression & anxiety as a result of stress. I refused to take antidepressants but I agreed to take the valium. I didn’t agree with the diagnosis but the tablets did stop the tremors in my hands in the beginning. But they left me spaced out and exhausted. I’m not slating the NHS as I think they do an amazing job in some circumstances. But something wasn’t right and over time my symptoms had worsened. I’m also not a fan of taking prescription drugs. I’m a firm believer that when something isn’t right in the body it’s trying to tell you something and popping a pill is not the answer. I’ve done it enough times before and it only masked the problem.

More medical history! 3 years ago I have the copper coil fitted. Since then I have had 14 day periods and 14 days off. For those that don’t know a females blood flow is her life force. To bleed for 14 days takes a lot of energy and is not pleasurable and a plain nuisance. I went to the doctors many times about this too and was told that’s the way it is so suck it up and get on with life. Of course, these guys are the professionals. So I should take their advice, right?!! Wrong. So fucking wrong. I won't get into the manipulation or corruption of pharmaceuticals and the medical industry right now, but I’m happy to discuss more if you want to PM me. 

On the 20th February I went to go and see a medical herbalist. I had given up with the NHS and wanted a more natural remedy to what I was suffering. Since this date we have been working together with a combination of herbs that are suited to my symptoms. (Please note, these people are professionals in their field. Taking herbs is not to be taken lightly and if not used correctly can have a detrimental effect.) 

At first I was like, what is this hocus pocus, mumbo jumbo shite?!! But I took a leap of faith and believed that these herbs would work, and there started my path of natural healing. As well as the herbs I have abandoned tampons and started using a moon cup (click on the word if you want to know more about the moon cup), I've cut out alcohol or at least reduced it dramatically, improved my diet and eating habits, have weekly session with a psychotherapist, attend freedom movement dance sessions, work with a rose quartz yoni egg (again click word if you want to know more) to heal the hurt feminine, taken up more yoga instead of weight training and committed to daily rituals of meditation. All of which were recommendations of my herbalist. Why could the doctor not recommend any of this? It sounds like a lot but these have been gradual changes over the last few months and 9 weeks later, a mere 9 weeks later my neurological symptoms have dramatically improved. My tremors are intermittent, some improvement in the strength of my hands, my mental health is the best it’s ever been and best of all I am on day 27 without a period and my last period lasted 7 days!!!!!! Can you fricking believe it?!! So fuck you lovely NHS doctors! After a lot of stamping my feet I finally have an MRI scan scheduled later this evening just to check that there is no underlying issue. But I sincerely imagine the results are going to come back just fine so I can continue to listen to my body and continue on this path back to wonderful health. It will also be very interesting to see if the tumours in my feet have reduced when I have my 6 month check up. On this journey I have discovered that illnesses such as Morton’s Neuroma are a result of unreleased anger. There’s more to this, but this is just a brief synopsis of the cause. The therapy to release my unresolved anger has been great fun! 

I’m practically a full on flipping hippy! I just need some dreadlocks and to dance naked in the rain! But seriously, I wanted to share this with you today to say that if I, with all these problems can turn my back on the ‘system’ and make such incredible improvements in such a short space of time then anyone can. You just have to get off this treadmill, rat race we call life and stop. Listen to your body, your soul and give it what it wants. If it’s that’s chocolate cake...haha then eat the damn chocolate cake. Make time to connect with your body, learn to know how to listen to it. For the first few weeks of this journey all I did was eat. I had just come out of my operation and my body was screaming for food. And despite me eating three times as much as I did a few months ago I’ve lost a few Kg’s and I feel amazing. My body is on it’s way to being at the state nature intended it to be. No prescription drugs, no fad dieting, very little gym activity and a big smile on my face. Now don’t get me wrong, this path is not an easy one and should be tread carefully. I’m uncovering a lot of hurt and painful past traumas that have affected me until now. But everything is worth it for the sake of my health and a much more positive future. 

Now I’m no expert in herbs, so if you want more information let me know and I can point you in the direction of someone that knows. 

I hope I’ve given you something to think about and you find this useful. 

I need some space….

We are all souls having a human experience. Or at least this is my take on life. We don’t always know the right path, the best decision, what is right from wrong or what we’re doing is going to lead to the best outcome. Sometimes we just have to trust the process, tune into our instinct and go with what our gut is telling us to do. It’s funny though, the more I walk this path of life, the more I understand that I know nothing! But I am absolutely certain that my ability to surrender to the present moment and the strength of my connection to God are the torches in this tunnel we call life. When I let go of one or both of these elements the tunnel gets very dark. 

I was exceptionally fortunate recently to meet an individual that taught me the art of sharing. I say art, because that is exactly what it is. To give someone the delicate space and time to share their intimate fears, emotions and feelings and put yourself in a position to be able to receive what they are sharing is truly a magical experience between two wonderful souls. But this isn’t always easy, what the person is sharing might be delicate information, could be critical to your person or simply emotional. So when sharing this space we have to act completely in the moment, without ego, let go and just be. 

At first, I found the sharing incrediably hard. Letting someone into my sacred space of safety where my emotions and I were vulenerable was terrifying. But with practice it got easier and as time passed it became a regular practice for us. It was so wonderful to share this sacred space and share his thoughts, fears, guidance and emotions too. So special and wonderful each time. However, over time I got lost in the assumption that this was a normal method of communication. Recently I went to share a moment and thank a good friend for something they had done for me. In the middle of my sentence I was cut off and dismissed. I think I physically took a step back at the shock. But then I understood that it wasn’t a dismissal of my gratitude, she wasn’t in a place to able to receive it. We get so caught up in the day to day schedule of life that we sometimes miss the beauty that is right there in front of us. Thankfully this person is a very close friend, so I asked her to stop just for a moment. While we were there in the middle of a busy street I took her hands, took some deeps breaths with her while we connected with each other and again I gave my thanks to what we had shared. In that moment we created a special space where we were able to give and receive, without ego, pressure or the noise of life. My gratitude was expressed and received in a very honest, true and special moment. I now take pleasure is sharing more moments with my friend like this regularly. It’s a great way to communicate and share. 

I have attached this picture to this post to represent our fear. Our fear of freedom, of sharing, of being honest and of being vulnerable. But this moment here with my friend shows me that sometimes we need to feel that fear and do it anyway. Because on the other side of fear is pure magic. 

My name’s Kym and I’m a love addict….

I remember the first time I heard of love addiction, it was when Oprah was interviewing Alanis Morissette. Alanis talked about her destructive behaviour as a consequence to her need to get her fix for love. I thought the woman was crazy, and it was another made-up American excuse to take therapy. That was until she talked about her inability to look in the mirror and know that she loved herself, because if she loved herself why would she feel the need to seek it in others. This one point resonated with me so strong that I immediatly jumped up and went to the mirror to see if I loved myself. (The fact I had to to look in a mirror to know this will tell you what’s coming next.) The truth was there staring me in the face. I could not look at myself and know my worth, the love I had for myself or what I deserved. I looked at myself and hated what I saw in front of me. My hair wasn’t how it should be, my eyes are too small, I’m not pretty without make-up…blah blah blah! I was not confident to say I loved myself to myself, let alone others. I tried it again later in the month and could do nothing but break down in tears. 

In the last two years since watching this interview and crying at the sight of myself in the mirror I’ve entered into two relationships. Both relationships were very short lived, highly sexual and very intense. Neither relationship made me feel complete as l’d expected them to and I became aware that in both relationships I was looking for these men to complete me on some level that meant they loved me. It was my understanding that if these men loved me I was worth something. In fact this has been a regular pattern all my life come to think of it. The difference between these last two relationships and the ones previous is these two men were kind enough to be honest about why they decided to end the relationship. Ones previous usually ended in police reports. My relationships have for the best part of my life always been destructive. But despite all this chaos and destruction I was still ready to give my love to anyone that would have it, because if I had a man in my life then surely I was worth something, right? Don’t get me started on boundaries and self worth! 

As I’ve recently discovered with my therapist, my need to seek validity in others, my neverending need for gratification from men all boils down to, shall we say, a less than nuturing environment during my childhood. Now I know this is so obvious now…daddy issues, hello! But the thing is my addiction has manifested in so many different ways, such as my need to seek control, my need to be my own boss, even the need to be alone most of the time even when in a relationship. I was tricked to thinking it was all completely normal. Don’t get me wrong, there are some wonderful perks for sacrificing myself worth in order to receive love. I have a wonderfully successful business and my life is rich in friendships with my ex’s. However the destructive need to satisfy this need to feel loved at any cost has to come to an end. I can’t go on anymore. My behaviour has always been less than respectful, my need to push boundaries to their limits and my need to seek unhealthy relationships in men who have no interest other than sex is ruining my life, my happiness and my potential for a great future.

I am very new to this path, but the more I know myself the more I’m learning to love that girl that looks back at me in the mirror. I can tell myself that I love and respect myself and not burst into tears. It’s funny, because as the love for myself grows these things called self care, boundaries and positive thinking are all starting to creep in. It’s ace! 

What I do know about my discovery thus far, is that love from another is great and I hope one day to be in a position where I can welcome it into my life. But love from another is not the be all and end all. It shouldn’t fulfil us to the point we are that heightened emotional state of existence. Then when they take it away it cripples us into a mad state of depression. Love should brighten our day, not define it. I want to be able to recieve love so it compliments my life, not so that my life evolves around it. Love can be so beautiful if we set it free. There are many self care rituals I have in place thank you to the love and support of others around me and that makes this process a whole lot easier. 

But I wanted to share this today, because I witness so much love addiction every day around me and we live in a society that promotes it in such an unhealthy manner. It’s a real issue that affects so many of us and we’re walking around with the blindfolds on. There is help out there and I for one am willing to point someone in the right direction if they want it. In the mean time enjoy this video and this incrediable woman with the one way ticket to us getting to know ourselves.

Goodbye.

“You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you are re-reading the last one.”

I’ve heard this quote so many times and as usual I dismissed it. Like most of the other bollocks quotes I hear, I thought it was meaningless. However recently there have been a wonderful influx of new people come into my life. All with similar energy, similar interests and brought something to my life to teach me a lesson, guide me along the path or enlightened me in some way. As I write this, I realise how privileged I am to be experiencing this. But to get to the point where I am attracting these people into my life I have had to work painfully hard to put myself in a place where likeness attracts likeness. This has meant be getting rid of the negative, toxic people that were in my life. Sounds like a very easy process, who would want toxic, negative people in their life? But when you are so intertwined with these people it’s difficult to see their toxicity in the first place, let alone get rid of them in your life. Hence why I say the process was very painful. It takes courage and strength to cut these people from my life, but the rewards are now beginning to pay off.

I’ve always been one of those girls that gets on better with men. I found it difficult to connect with women, I always found we had very little in common and the girls I did know were more interested in gossip, what colour lippy to wear and whether it clashed with their handbag! Ugh! But the real truth of the matter was it was me that was out of touch with my femininity. I have always possessed masculine traits, always been the one to take control in a situation, the one who gets shit done. I’ve always seen my womb as a hinderance. Periods were always a sheer inconvenience. As far as I was concerned you could take the whole lot out and be done with it all. Wow! As I write this now, I understand how far I have come on this journey in a very short space of time.

As I walk this path of self discovery I understand more what it means to be in touch with my body as much as my spirit and my mind. Up until recently I was experiencing 14 day periods and have done for the last 3 years. I had become so disconnected with my womb that it was rejecting me as much as I was rejecting it. Why would it want to work properly if it was always been told what a nuisance it was. Roughly 2 months ago I set sail on this voyage to get in touch with myself as a woman and learn to embrace all that being a woman is. It’s still very early days but I’m learning to understand that being a woman doesn’t mean I have to be meek, mild, weak, vulnerable and exposed. I can be feminine as well as being strong, and a determined fire ball. At the same time learning that exposing my true self without my business mask and allowing myself to be vulnerable and opening up to others close to me is a massive strength. As a result of reconnecting with my womb I’ve felt expressively creative, loved and best of all I’m down to 7 day periods.