I haven’t written a blog post in a very long time and here I am to catch you up!  I’ve been very busy with a strong focus on therapy and healing my inner children. Having a childhood filled with so much trauma, I have several inner children that need attention, love and understanding. I struggled with this idea and concept for at least 4 years thinking it was utter bullshit. I’m finally in a place where I understand that the parts of me that were sacrificed to please others, the parts of me that weren’t permitted to exist, the parts of me that were told she wasn’t important - they all need to understand that it really had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the adults in her life. Today’s post isn’t really about my childhood. Today’s post is all about grown-up me. It’s been a tough year. I celebrated one year of no contact with Jack and I honestly feel free. I feel happier and I feel like I’m true to myself. I don’t have to pretend to be someone he wants me to be whi

  In April 2001, I was laid off from my first job as an Executive Assistant to the CFO. All was not lost, the former CEO and current Chairman of the Board for the telecom company I would be leaving hired me to be his Assistant and Office Manager at his new venture. Before starting that role, I booked a vacation to the Dominican Republic with Mr. GQ, my BFF Natasha and her boyfriend who happened to be Mr. GQ’s best friend, Freddy. I was over the moon to be going away on a REAL vacation. This was my first real vacation ever. I remember spending 3 weeks researching resorts, towns, activities, cross-referenced reviews and costs to make sure it was affordable for everyone. Once I selected the resort, I went back to search for the absolute best price. I think I got our trip for less than $700 all inclusive, at a 5 star brand new resort. I had an amazing time and crossed off several bucket list items at the time. Upon returning to real life I worked my butt off setting up a new office and a

  I feel calm, relaxed, carefree, and loved - much like any normal kid should feel. I only feel this way when I’m at ‘la cabine’ with my grand-parents. Grand-papa would come pick us up at the end of June in his burgundy coloured station wagon and drive the 45 minutes to the log cabin he built with my father many moons ago. My grand-maman would be waiting for us in the cabin’s small living room, which doubled as the dining room complete with wood stove that made great toast in the morning. The cabin was built in the early 1970s using logs, tin for the roof, and pink insulation. The cabin sits on a parcel of leased land for a 99-year term. The small structure contained a small workshop for my grand-father’s tools, a main area, 2 window-less bedrooms, a loft with several mattresses on the floor for when my cousins visited, a small kitchen, a tiny bathroom (illegal because he installed a septic tank for my grand-mother because she didn’t want to use the outhouse). The kitchen also contai

 PTSD is a bitch. When you live and breathe it daily, you don’t know any better. It’s like being born with a headache; you don’t know you have one until it’s gone. As a teen, Big M told me I was moody and depressed – a typical teenager. She also told me daughters and mothers never get along in the teen years, which is also totally normal. Uh Huh. As a young adult, I knew more than anything that I would never be a parent. Ever. I didn’t know how to relate to children, I’d never spent any time with children, I’d always been surrounded by adults; but mostly, I believe children were a burden. Deep down, I knew I’d be an abuser. I was terrified to be alone with children. I assumed I’d be a sexual deviant and if I wasn’t, I’d probably just beat them black and blue. When I told my family every time they joked to “wait until youuuuu have kids!” I was always met with shock and mild horror that I didn’t want to shoot watermelons out my vagina. I don’t think those living outside my family unit

I had moved all my belongings into a storage unit my sister had arranged for me through one of her customers. I was very lucky to have the space for free. In exchange for a rebate in rent, I donated my nearly new appliances to our landlord. My sister and I slept together in the same room and bed until her ex-boyfriend moved out. He was such a douche. He seemed to refuse to acknowledge they had broken up. I had fun because I had someone to pick on and take my aggression out on… I was very sarcastic and quite the bitch in my 20s. I didn’t realize it, but my bitchy sarcasm was my wall of steel, my fortress – better to chase people away now than get screwed over; those who saw thru the façade had a chance, but not really, nobody got ‘in’ to know me. No one. I liked it like that. My long-standing opinion is that people are not to be trusted; they all just want something from you. Those who were too dumb to run or thought they saw through the façade would eventually face my brutal honesty an