Wednesday 25 June 2014

Making Peace With The Past

There's a lesson in my life that has taken me years to learn and as such it kept re-appearing in my life in many ways and I could never understand why. Until today that is.



As an 18 year old that was pregnant, jobless, pretty much friendless and without my own home, I clung desperately to the man who I got pregnant with in the vague hope he'd support me and our unborn baby. You can probably tell what I'm going to write next...that it was all in vain. Long before I realised it, he had chosen to walk away and relinquish himself of all responsibility. I spent all my time trying to contact him and was really cutting a pathetic figure chasing after him like that. Another lesson learnt.

At the time I was hurt, if you think you get hurt when you get rejected, you should try having your child rejected - that hurts more. With a little more time I was relieved and could see the positives - I was solely responsible for our child and so every decision, every up and down, all fell on me and I actually preferred that. I'm quite unique in how I believe children should be treated and brought up and so it saved inevitable rows. 



I got to spend a lot of time with my son and those are the most precious memories of my whole life. So we didn't have a lot, but we did have each other and that was (still is) priceless.

When my son was very little, people from the Benefits Agency called at our home at a ridiculous hour in the morning and scared us to death. It was far too early, though luckily, we were up as my son is an insomniac. They were checking that I was indeed single. They found that yes I was and they persuaded me that I really must apply to the Child Support Agency (CSA) for maintenance money. They all but had my arm up my back. I agreed and was just happy to get them out my house.

It's now 19 years later and we haven't had any maintenance payments, but we have had endless confusion and let downs from the CSA, letters saying we'll be getting x amount starting next week, then nothing materialises, none stop mixed up letters, phone calls to people who don't know what's happening...it's been a lot of hassle when I think back on it. 

They even made it an official debt through the courts, had Private Investigators and Bailiffs involved and still we received nothing.

For a long time it rumbled on in the background of our lives and I thought nothing of it - it was just an open ongoing case that may eventually get us a little extra income. How wrong I have been.



Recently someone I know has been having issues with the CSA. This is not unique - I know loads of people who have issues with them. This is the other way round though, this person is being cleared out by them and their own personal circumstances ignored in favour of the other party. It seems the balance is skewed with these things and that those willing to pay, will pay through the nose and that those who choose to ignore the letters - won't pay at all.

I like things to be fair, but really fairness doesn't exist, since we all create our own reality. Those that are putting out the energy that they won't get maintenance or that they don't deserve it, won't get any, and those that put out the energy that they will get it, and that they do deserve it, will get payments. It does take all parties to create the overall energy though. 

The thing is, by keeping the case open, all I have done is give myself karma. After all, I know deep down he will not pay so that is the energy I'll get back at me and it is therefore a pointless exercise. Plus, I have put another human being through court and all the other stuff too. This is going to come back to me down the energetic lines that connect me to this situation and as the Law states it will come back to me three or tenfold. Crikey! I do not want to be around when that comes back to me. Beam me up, Scotty!

Today I closed the case and it felt very good to cut loose and let it go. I asked for forgiveness and I sent positive energy its way to go some way to making up for what I have done. 



I'm very grateful to the people I know who have presented this lesson to me over and again. It was winding me up no end seeing this woman chase after maintenance and 'extras' at all costs from the person that I know, and never accept responsibility for her own income. It's put the person I know into a terrible financial position for years of their life, and frankly, it does seem unreasonable that they don't just want a fair amount, but instead want to make the other person suffer financially - this has nothing to do with keeping children fed and clothed, but is all about not having to earn income themselves, being kept in a lifestyle they enjoy and wanting revenge too. 

Everyone in our lives is a reflection of us. I couldn't face this reflection, after all, it is a very ugly one. However, I can't say after 19 years of allowing the CSA to relentlessly pursue money for us, that I am all that different. I did it in ignorance but that's no excuse. 



All I can hope now that I've closed the case is that my sons dad gets on with his life and that I haven't (albeit inadvertently) caused any damage.

It is of course so hard when we are left to our own devices, especially if we have children to look out for. It makes us vulnerable and we all need to be careful that in turn, that doesn't make us resentful or spiteful in our pursuit of 'correcting' the situation. 

There is so much more peace to be found from allowing people to make their own choices. Once you accept full responsibility for your life in its entirety you'll never need to rely on someone else again and that is so liberating.



Knowing you have money coming in from an absent parent may be comforting, but it should never be a way of getting back at the other parent, diminishing your own responsibility or just for the sake of it because its easy money.



When we let go, we let in, so let's see what wonderful things come into the lives of all who were involved, now this situation is over. And that too is karma.








Friday 6 June 2014

Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride

The saying goes... three times the bridesmaid, never the bride. I've been a bridesmaid four times.

Even when I was a little girl I loved weddings. I know most girls do, but as with everything with me, this was a bit more than most.

In the summer holidays I'd eagerly await the ringing of the local church bells at St Marys, West Derby, as this signified a wedding was about to happen. I would run to the village to stand back out the way and watch the bride arrive. I'd take in every detail and I simply adored the energy of the occasion; the excitement, the emotion, the celebration.


St Marys Church, West Derby, Liverpool. Photo credit: Steve Wallace on Flickr.com

Needless to say I had many dreams about what it would feel like to be a bride myself. I'd put my imagination to great use and make huge wedding dresses for my dolls and act out the ceremonies.


My Gold Label Barbie of my most favourite famous bride, Grace Kelly.

I was lucky enough as a very young child to experience being a bridesmaid for my cousin and I remember staring in awe at how beautiful she looked in her pristine dress. I was so excited for when it would be My Day. The thought never occurred to me that I might not get My Day.



Too excited to dress or even hold my basket properly.

Aged about ten, I was upstairs playing wedding Barbie when my mum shouted to me "Your uncles on the phone and he has something to ask you". We (me and my twin sister) dutifully came downstairs and tongue in cheek (knowing the reaction she'd get) my mum calmly said "He's getting married. Would you like to be a bridesmaid?". You can still hear the excited scream somewhere out in space. 

I was absolutely besotted with the no expense spared wedding; the fact I got to wear a hooped underskirt like a bride, the brides' veil went on forever and ever glistening under the lights and lighting up my heart each time it did,  the smell of the roses in our bouquets, the champagne flowing, the names and date printed on everything, the masses of congratulations and every special moment - all of which will stay with me forever.

 As I was starting to feel more grown-up at the time, it felt like one step closer to My Day too. I don't think I even cracked a smile that day, I was so busy taking everything in.


Me just about containing my excitement at wearing a hooped underskirt.

My Nana added fuel to the fire when the Royal Weddings happened. She saved us all the magazine pull-outs and souvenirs and I got to watch the weddings over and over again on TV, whilst declaring that I would be married in a cathedral and that the train of the dress would be as long as the steps leading up to it. I looked through the pull-outs time and again until I came up with a modified design for my own dress. I couldn't wait for it to happen.

Me on my First Holy Communion Day when I loved dressing in a white bride-like dress.

It's no surprise that at the age of sixteen I got engaged, without a ring or proposal, just another trapping in a toxic relationship. It was enough of a carrot to make me stay longer. Thankfully, it was just a carrot and no wedding materialised.

As the years passed, proposals came and went leaving a trail of disasters, unwanted dresses and bills. Dreams broke off at the point of reality.

I even worked as a florist so I could create wedding flowers and after that I worked in an actual Bridal Boutique (neither are the nice easy jobs you'd think they would be!). At every stage of my life I've been involved with weddings. 

Most recently those that know me or have been following the blog will know that my imminent wedding last year was cancelled months before it was due to go ahead. The main thing is that we're still together, but the reality is we'll never be married now and that hurts.


Me in what would have been my wedding dress last year.

For a start, it wasn't the first time there's been a halt to the wedding plans, when we first got engaged we were forced to stop the plans by my partners ex - we should have stood up to her but for whatever reason, we didn't, and this really took the wind out my sails, so much so that I didn't pick back up with the organising of it until a couple of years later. Then, there's just the feeling that we can't go there again - it somehow feels tainted and has lost its momentum and its meaning.

The hilarious thing is that I don't even know how I feel about marriage - you mention marriage to me and I start thinking about divorce and the lasting hurt that has. God, I'm weird! I don't know why I do this, as my parents and most of my friends are all still happily married. 

There is nothing worse though than people who once loved each other, arguing and going all out to "take them to the cleaners". Where love once was, all that remains is bitterness and a sense of entitlement to material things: a strange competition for who comes out on top, that's not measured by dignity, humility and grace but by who gets the most money and settles down with someone else first. Surely, there are more peaceful resolutions? You can't say how you'd act if you were that hurt, but I like to think, like other situations in my life, I would rise above. So, you could say that I'm frightened of what I might become, rather than divorce itself.

For this reason, I much prefer Handfastings and other commitment ceremonies where you announce and celebrate your commitment to each other, but don't come away with any legal obligations and/or a high horse for if things don't work out.


 Me as a Bridesmaid for my gorgeous friends' wedding.
Me as a Bridesmaid with our fab mum on my lovely sisters' wedding day.

As with all things in my life, I have created entirely the reality of it and I accept that fully but I can't help but feel disappointed with my results even though it's clear where I'm going wrong.


The Cathedral at Liverpool, where I used to dream of dragging a huge train up the steps. 

I don't know if I'll ever get over my obsession or my fear, but I do know that at thirty-seven, it's unlikely I'll ever have that cathedral wedding. On the plus side, I'll never get divorced. Every cloud.

Need a bridesmaid? Hit me up!

Every healing experience I share on my blog comes with some degree of difficulty to write about because I write with such an open heart, but this one in particular was hard for me to admit and face up to, so I hope it is received in the spirit it is meant. 

More like this:

The Day I Met Azrael The Angel of Death 

Part One - My First Ever Angel Miracle

Part Two - My First Ever Angel Miracle

This Post is Brought to You by the Letter 'M'


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