Tuesday, September 30, 2014

I'm Not What You Were Expecting



It's Domestic Violence Awareness Month!!!

Let's pretend for a minute that you guys don't know me and allow me to take a minute to introduce myself:

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Hi, my name is Eden and I'm here to make you aware that Domestic Violence is an issue.

I'm specifically here to bring awareness to the theory of who a domestic abuse victim is.

As domestic abuse becomes more of a socially accepted issue, more and more women are coming out of the shadows to share their stories. As these women come forward, the picture that we previously had of what a domestic violence victim looks like has been shattering down around us.

Now I might not know a lot about a lot of things, I'll fully fess up to that, but what I do know, is domestic violence. I know domestic violence from my own story and I know it from the women that on a daily basis come and go from my house as if I have a revolving door out front.

Because of that there is one thing that I can tell you with all the certainty in the world; what some of you picture when you think of a domestic victim is seriously outdated.

You see, the thing that most people have failed to realize up until this point is that domestic violence victims are the best actresses you will ever meet in your entire life.

Monday, September 29, 2014

"My Name Is 'Get The Hell Off Of Me'."


I feel like over the last few months I've really come to know some of you guys. We chat over email or Facebook and often times joke that we would have fun together in 'real life'. Well, since I don't know any of you in 'real life', the best that I can do is drag you along with me on a night out; photographically. I laid everything out in steps so that you can replicate this on your own and pretend that I am with you.

(Hey, I never claimed to be normal)

Before we get started, you will need a few things.

#1 A 36 year old friend that has a 20 year old daughter who can watch your kids overnight.

#2 A designated driver.

#3 The promise of a club promoter to pick up your group's bar tab.

#4 A friend that announces upon entering the car that she is "not wearing underwear because the dress couldn't handle it." (And no, it was not me) Technically you don't really need this per say, but it's a great way to kick off the evening.

Step #1 Manage your curls.


Step #2 Buy bandaid's for inside your shoes.



Step #3 See what Walgreens has in the sex aisle. Did you know that Walgreens has a sex aisle? We sure didn't!

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Just Show Up

**Forgive me for the quality of some of these photo's, I took a lot of them on a disposable camera and since I don't have a scanner, I literally took a picture of a picture and posted them here.**

When I was 15 (16?) my parents sent me on a work camp trip over the summer.

Take a minute to envision how that conversation went. Here, I'll even give you a little hint, it went almost exactly like this; "Eden, we are sending you on a work camp mission trip for the summer. Oh and by the way it costs $3000 and you have to pay for it yourself. This is non negotiable."

I was NOT happy.

Yes, life at home was awful, but this entire little plan of theirs seemed insurmountable. I hadn't been on a plane since I was three, I didn't have any construction skills, and now my parents were going to drop me off at the airport where I was going to fly across the country to live with people I didn't know and literally do hard labor for the summer. Oh yea and I had to find a way to pay for it myself.

Not daunting at all. Not a bit.....

Not only did I spend months participating in more fundraisers than I care to remember, but I had to attend "work training" classes at my church. I would literally show up with a piece of drywall, throw a hammer through it, and learn to mud and tape it back up. After learning to safely climb from a ladder to a roof when June rolled around I had scraped enough money together to begrudgingly hop on an airplane and jet set off to labor camp.

It was a life changing event that probably saved my life.

Monday, September 22, 2014

Ok, I'll Admit It, Sometimes I'm Just Bad At Sex


Alright, so I've said it before, I've only had consensual sex with one person (gasp!) Whatever, I don't care. It's not like I couldn't if I wanted too, I just don't care to have a dick inside of me unless it's attached to a man that I am seriously committed too.

That's me, swimming against the mainstream as usual....

But, if you are willing to roll "sex" in with "sex acts," I would say that I have partaken in sexual experiences with several or possibly more than several boys. Sometimes though I feel like the experience I have to offer is a little bit strange, kinda twisted, not what my partner was expecting, and quite possibly something he would have wished to avoid.

I don't know about you guys, but my girlfriends and I love to talk about sex, I'll be honest, we do. The thing is somehow they all seem to be pulling off amazing TV porno sex every time they do it and me? Not so much. I'll admit that sometimes I'm just awful, but them, not so much. I seriously cannot be the only girl that sometimes just cannot get the job done.

So here my dear readers, is where you come in. Convince me that I am not the ugly duckling in a pond full of sexy swans and that you too sometimes fail at being sexy.

With that being said I am going to get this ball rolling by sharing a few of my own stories (some of which I shared in more detail in the post "Dates Where I Was On My Worst Behavior") and I'm hoping that you guys follow suit and post your own stories in the comments section.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

A Letter To My Ex on the 10th Anniversary We Never Reached


Dear Ex,

Today would have been our 10th wedding anniversary, but we didn’t make it. I look back on my life and it is crazy to me to think that I met you only a few years shy of half my life ago. I was still just a kid; playing house in a grown up life.

It was ten years ago today, a decade to be exact, that I innocently walked down the aisle to become your wife. It was a decade ago today that you took the first part of me, not just my hand in marriage, but my entire body as well. It was the day that my hopes for a future that would make up for my past shattered down around me into a million broken dreams.

Still though, I just wanted to take a few minutes to thank you for our marriage. They say that you will know someone is “the one” when they make you a better version of yourself. While I’m pretty sure that our relationship was not exactly what they were referring too, I will admit, you did make me a better version of myself.

Since I wrote you a letter on the 2nd anniversary of your leaving and I shared with you all the things that I had learned since you had gone away, I wanted to take a minute to thank you for everything that you helped me realize about myself during our marriage. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be the person that I am today and I’m kinda starting to love the unlovable me.

It was our marriage that taught me who I want to be and what I want to do with my life.

You ripped everything I had away from me down to the dignity of the skin that I’m in. You left me with no choice but to look inside myself for any shred of self worth that I could find and to build myself back up into being a functioning member of society.

If it weren’t for our marriage, I wouldn’t be the amazing version of myself that I am today; built upon the lessons you taught me and what I taught myself in their aftermath.

You took a lot from me, you broke a lot, you hurt a lot, but because of me, I'm ok.

I guess though, as I am writing this letter, something is becoming apparent to me:

I guess I never really needed you, because my parents had already taught me all of that. You were just a detour that made everything a hell of a lot harder for me.

Dammit.

Anyways, happy “Never 10th Anniversary” baby and cheers to all the rest that we will thankfully never reach.

With all the love in the world,

                 The Girl Who Never Stopped Being Your Wife Even When You Failed to be Her Husband.


P.S. Thanks for the kids. They are pretty awesome and I’m keeping them.


Tuesday, September 16, 2014

I May Be A Little Bit More Devious Than I Originally Let On...


I talk on here a lot about how awful my ex was, what a horrible person, and terrible husband he was, but with the exception of the post where I talked about the time I actually hit my husband, I don’t often talk about the times when I was mean to him.

In an effort to not falsely portray myself as the constant victim, I might as well tell you about a few of the times when I myself was a little bit evil.

Like the time I found his Facebook account up on the computer and logged on. I had known for quite some time that he was cheating on me, but I didn’t know with who or what the details were, I just knew that he was and come hell or high water he wasn’t about to admit it. The guy wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, but I'll give him credit, he covered his tracks well.


One day I got on the computer and for the first time ever found his Facebook account (the account he swore he didn’t have) up on the screen. Normally all his accounts were locked down tighter than the white house, but today was my lucky day.

I’m not typically a sneaky person, but hey, if the opportunity presents itself….

Sunday, September 14, 2014

She Said I Was A Failure Of A Mother

“This is all your fault! I don’t want you to be my mommy anymore! I want a dad and all I have is you! I have no one! I only have you! I don’t have anything everyone else has and this is all your fault!!!”

Those words cut me to the core in ways that I have never would have imagined were even still possible after everything my ex put me through.

I turned away, clasped my hand over my mouth, and squeezed my eyes shut as tight as I could, not able to look at the face glaring at me; the face of my six year old daughter.

It’s always my fault. It’s been “my fault” my entire life. I've been a supposed failure of a child, a failure of a wife, led an "apparent" failure of life really, and now I was being called a failure of a mother by my own child.

It happens to every mom at some point, the inevitable moment when your child suddenly blames you for every reason of unhappiness in their lives. It’s almost like a rite of passage to be honest; you aren’t really a seasoned parent until your child has told you what a horrible job you are doing of parenting them.

I just wasn’t ready for it yet and most of all, I wasn’t expecting to actually wonder if it was true.