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When is rape not rape? When it includes BDSM apparently
Unless you’ve been living in a cave over the past few years, you’ve undoubtedly heard of the movie 50 Shades of Grey based on the series of books of the same name. In case you haven’t, it’s a story of a young woman who is seduced by an older, grotesquely wealthy man who is very sexually controlling and dominant, to say the least. They engage in a sexual practice known as BDSM (Note: My mom reads this, so I’m not going to define it. Click the link to learn about BDSM).
Last month, a young woman in Chicago claimed that a classmate from University of Illinois at Chicago raped her. She did what young women are told to do and went to the police, who arrested the young man that night. The allegations have drawn significant attention and this has been dubbed the “50 Shades of Grey Rape” because the woman was bound, gagged, blindfolded, and whipped with a belt, all tactics used in BDSM and in the book and movie.
Today, a preliminary hearing was held and the charges were thrown out by Judge Peggy Chiampas.
According to the Chicago Tribune report on the hearing, the victim, who was not named by the Tribune,
testified for more than 90 minutes Thursday, at times wringing her hands as she told the judge her encounter with Hossain on Feb. 21 was consensual at first but that she told him to stop and began crying after he began hitting her hard with a belt. (emphasis mine)
“I was saying, ‘No, stop,’ shaking my head from side to side,” she said.
“(Hossain) [the alleged rapist] said, ‘I want to see how much you can take,’” she testified. “He said, ‘I want to see you cry.’”
. . .
[Judge] Chiampas asked if the woman had said anything to Hossain when he bound her wrists or while he allegedly sexually assaulted her. She answered no to both questions.
I need to break this down based upon my understanding from the article:
- The young woman and young man were having consensual sex.
- The young woman was okay with and did not object to the young man binding “her hands and legs, stuffed a necktie in her mouth and put a knit cap over her eyes.” (from further in the article)
- When the young man began hitting her with a belt, she “told Hossain it hurt, told him to stop and began shaking her head and crying.”
- He did not stop.
Look, I’m openminded. Whatever two consensual people do behind closed doors is okay with me. The key word in that sentence is consensual.
Sex can begin as consensual and then one person changes his or her mind. When that person changes his or her mind and vocalizes the change of heart and the other person does not stop, the sex becomes non-consensual, especially when the person who is saying no is physically powerless to leave the situation. And that is rape.
Because the young woman was physically restrained in a number of ways – bound at her hands and legs, gagged, and blindfolded – she was subjected to whatever the young man wanted to do to her, for as long as he wanted to do it. When she began to cry, shake her head, and protest vocally, but he would not stop, this consensual sex became rape. Just because the young woman went into the situation willingly and had previously had consensual sex with the young man, does not mean he didn’t rape her this time.
Two people can get their kink on and consensually engage in BDSM. But BDSM turns into rape when one person says no and the other person fails to respect that choice.
Women often don’t report rape because they are frequently not believed, retraumitized through the judicial process, had their previous sexual encounters and partners used against them, and have their words twisted against them.
To the young woman, I want to say that I believe you. I believe that you were raped. I believe that you were having consensual sex, but it turned to rape when you expressed that you wanted it to stop and your desires were not respected. I believe that you are courageous for coming forward and I am profoundly sorry that the justice system failed you. Sadly, your situation is not unique. Don’t let this incident define you though. Surround yourself with people who support and believe you, get yourself some therapy to work through the trauma of being raped and having the justice system fail you, and know that you can live a happy, healthy life with wonderful relationships in the future.
To the young man, I want you to know that when a partner says no or otherwise expresses opposition to your encounter, even if you’re in the middle of what began as consensual sex, you must stop. You must stop. Rape occurs when one person wants sex to stop, even if he or she is tied up and the other person wants to continue. For whatever reason, you got lucky today, but next time you might not. Grow up and learn to respect women.
To Judge Chiampas, you obviously know more facts about the case than I do, but I believe you failed women everywhere today.
What do you think, dear reader?
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RIP Feline Companion Fred Gardner, Unknown – March 11, 2015
It is with a heavy heart that I share that my dad, John, just said good-bye to his faithful feline companion, Fred. Fred was a very loving kitty who my dad rescued in the early 2000s. He was all black and loved his belly rubs. He also enjoyed long walks through the neighborhood on his leash, visiting the neighbors, and crawling through the bushes.
Fred was also fiercely protective and resisted other kitties moving into the neighborhood. One time, he expressed his displeasure that a neighbor adopted a cat by shimmying up to their open sliding glass door and spraying the curtains. He let that cat know who owned the neighborhood.
We’re not sure how old Fred was, but he has been in declining health for a number of years. In the end, we think that Fred had a tumor in his stomach that was cancerous.
Fred crossed the Rainbow Bridge this morning surrounded by my dad, neighbor Martha who was his caregiver when my dad was out of town, and his vet.
Fred is survived by John, many friends and family, Will Feral the neighborhood feral cat who my dad feeds from time to time, and Max the blind and deaf kitten my dad found last summer and saved for someone to adopt.
Internment will be private and no visitation is scheduled.
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Ask Little Merry Sunshine: Are you always happy or are you too stupid to realize life sucks?
Dear Little Merry Sunshine,
I am a regular reader and big fan of your blog. In fact, I’ve been reading since the early days when you were writing on Blogspot. As I’ve read and re-read your posts over the past 7 1/2 years, I’ve noticed one overarching theme: far more often than not, you are happy and cheerful. How is this possible? Are you faking it? Is it an act? I simply don’t think anyone is as happy and looking for the silver lining as you always seem to be. I sometimes think you’re superficial and too stupid to realize all of life’s difficulties. Which is it?
Sincerely,
The Glass Isn’t Always Half-Full
Dear GIAHF,
Thank you for your letter. I always appreciate having the opportunity to chat with readers. Your question is one that I’ve heard from a number of readers over the years. The short answer to your question is “yes,” I’m both happy and sometimes too stupid to know that life is crazy and messy and miserable, but that’s not really the answer.
I think the best way I can answer your question is to break it down into its parts.
Do I fake being happy? No I don’t. Not ever. That’s not to say that I always have a huge smile plastered on my face or that I only feel the emotion of happiness to the exclusion of all other emotions because that’s not true. I feel all emotions – sadness, anger, loneliness, exhilaration, happiness, and everything in between – but at my core, I’m happy.
Look, 2014 was one crazy year. I totaled my car. I lost four family members. I left my job. I had a breast cancer scare. I gave up my ability to have children. All of those things could have had me down for the count. Instead, I chose to focus on the fact that a car is just a thing and no one was hurt; my family members all had great lives; leaving my job allowed me to focus on family matters that truly needed all of my attention; in the end, I didn’t have breast cancer and my saga encouraged other women to get their mammograms; and there are many other ways to flex my maternal muscle other than having children.
What I aim to do is to put my emotions in perspective and honor them in the moment through a practice of mindfulness. I use a number of iPhone apps to help me when I meditate, but for me, being mindful is about being fully present. It’s about acknowledging all of my emotions and not judging them as “good” or “bad.” When I’m sad, I feel it.
I work really hard not to stay in emotions like sadness, anger, loneliness, or depression* too long. They’re important emotions and it’s important to experience them appropriately, but when I find myself getting stuck in one of these emotions longer than serves me, which is a complete judgement call, I use skills I’ve learned over the years to put the emotion in perspective and figure out how to move out of it.
I like to turn on music that moves my soul and dance and sing around my condo. To center myself, I breathe deeply and put all my focus on my breath to the exclusion of all the other things happening around me.
I make gratitude lists. I’ve found that it’s not possible to have an attitude of gratitude and be unhappy simultaneously.
I make conscious choices about who I allow in my life. I surround myself with people who lift me up. This was difficult because it meant taking an honest look at the people in my life and asking myself how I honestly felt when I was around each person in my life or when I saw their posts on Facebook. It resulted in choosing to end some unhealthy relationships and unfriending the Debbie Downers on Facebook. And you know what? My life is better because of it.
Yes, there were some people I couldn’t fully eliminate from my life who are Negative Nellies, but I can choose how much I’m exposed to them and take steps to protect myself when I am around them.
And, of course, I love on Sammy and Zoey because kitties make everyone happy.
Thank you again for your question. I hope you’ll write in again soon.
*NOTE: Depression is tricky. We all get depressed once in awhile and it is normal. Let’s face it, life is sometimes one big shit storm. It is not always possible to just will yourself out of depression. When this is the case, you may be suffering from clinical depression, which is a serious mental illness, but isn’t what I’m talking about in this post. It may be necessary to seek professional help when your depression goes on and on and you can’t pull yourself out of it. I fully endorse professional intervention for mental health matters. You can read my posts about mental health and mental illness here.
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I hate Valentine’s Day, but not for the reason you think
I hate Valentine’s Day. There, I said it. I’ve hated it for as long as I can remember. In my opinion, it’s the worst holiday we have and I would prefer to crawl into bed later tonight only to wake up on Sunday.
Now before you stomp all over me as a bitter, never married, completely single, mid-40s, crazy cat lady who hates love and romance, I must take umbrage with the word bitter and your accusation that I hate love and romance. I own the rest of it, but I’m not bitter and I love love and romance.
So why do I hate Valentine’s Day? I’m glad you asked.
Have you read The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman? In his book, Mr. Chapman posits that people have a primary and secondary way in which they feel most loved and that to have a successful healthy relationship, you not only need to know your Love Languages, but you need to know your partner’s Love Languages.
The five Love Languages are Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Receiving Gifts, Quality Time, and Physical Touch.
Valentine’s Day focuses primarily on the language of Receiving Gifts. Through the media, we’re told that the only way to show our love is through jewelry, teddy bears, roses, candy, fancy dinners, and much more. If Receiving Gifts isn’t your primary or secondary Love Language, all of this is nice, but it doesn’t replace what truly makes you feel loved.
My primary Love Language is Quality Time. That means that I feel loved when I’m spending undivided time with someone who is fully present with me. Not playing on his cell phone or computer, not paying bills, not watching tv and half-heartedly responding to me every few minutes so I think you’re engaged with me (hint: I know you’re not). We don’t have to be doing anything fancy; in fact, for me, it’s often the simpler time together that means the most. As long as we’ve decided to do it together and we’re both fully engaged, that’s Quality Time.
A number of years ago, I was dating someone at Valentine’s Day. He sent me some beautiful flowers at work. Flowers at work are a warped sort of bragging rights, in my opinion. I don’t like to be that showy, but it did feel kind of nice to be part of that “club” that day. Everyone oohs and aahs over them commenting on how loved you are, but it also feels icky to me because the implication is that if you don’t receive flowers, you’re not loved. However, he’d left that morning on a business trip without having spent any Quality Time with me beforehand and no solid plans upon his return. Although I appreciated them and was grateful for them, the flowers just weren’t a substitute for what makes me feel really loved – Quality Time together.
Maybe you’re thinking, “Well, duh, of course, he hadn’t made any plans. He just wasn’t that into you.” We’re no longer together (although not because of Valentine’s Day), so I suppose you could be right. But the more logical answer is that he just didn’t know my Love Language and we weren’t a good fit for each other.
My secondary Love Language is Acts of Service. This means I feel loved when someone does things for me. Not like a servant or anything like that, but things that he knows I appreciate – the “little things” that make life better.
This same guy used to pick up cat litter for me when he was at Costco and drop it off at my house. Sure, I can easily do this for myself and I do. I’m at Costco regularly, but cat litter is heavy and it’s one of those things that you’re always in need of when you have cats. He’d always send me a text asking if I needed cat litter or anything else. Even if I said no, he got big bonus points for the offer and being willing to pick up it, deliver it, and put it away.
When my brother was in town recently, he noticed that the exhaust fan in my bathroom was dying and he replaced it. I didn’t realize that the sound it was making was the sounds of impending death, but Dave, who is a contractor, knew that and just fixed it.
Both of these Acts of Service are small, inexpensive (and I paid them both back for the cat litter and new exhaust fan), and easy ways to make me feel loved.
To be sure, this goes both ways. It’s not just about me and my Love Language. I need to know my partner’s Love Language and communicate love with him in that way, as well. Going back to the relationship I described above, his primary Love Language was Physical Touch. I don’t mean sex necessarily, although this is important. I mean non-sexual touch, which science tells us is vital for good health. He turned to putty with a good back rub and I was always happy to oblige.
So, for me, Valentine’s Day, at least the way the media, Hallmark, Kay Jewelers, and the floral industry want us to celebrate it, just doesn’t work.
On the other hand, when a man celebrates Valentine’s Day with me in my Love Language and me with his Love Language, Valentine’s Day is wonderful.
More than anything though, I believe that love and romance should be spontaneous and done throughout the year. All the flowers, jewelry, and fancy dinners on February 14th will never make up for lack of love or romance the other 364 days a year. If it takes a random date on the calendar for you to tell or show me that you love me, I’d prefer you skip it altogether.
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Jackie Robinson West: Adults and society are to blame, so leave the kids alone
Earlier today, Little League® International released its decision in the alleged Jackie Robinson West cheating scandal in the 2014 season.
The decision in part reads:
The Charter/Tournament Committee has decided to vacate the league’s wins from the 2014 Little League® International Tournament, including its Great Lakes Regional and United States Championships, and suspend team manager Darold Butler, from Little League activity. Illinois District 4 Administrator, Michael Kelly, has also been removed from his position. Jackie Robinson West Little League has been placed on probation with its tournament privileges suspended until such a time that new leadership in the positions of President, Anne Haley, and Treasurer, Bill Haley, have been elected or appointed, and the league is fully compliant with all Little League International Regulations.
You can read the full text of the decision here.
I personally find this decision heartbreaking, as does my fellow ChicagoNow blogger Kim Z. Dale on her blog, Listing Beyond Forty. Her piece, Jackie Robinson West: When adults cheat kids lose, sums up my feelings quite nicely, so you should read it.
I’ve been thinking about this since last night and am angry with this decision. The kids themselves did nothing wrong. They played their hearts out and, by all accounts, did so with excellent sportsmanship.
Adults are entirely to blame for this. And we, as a society are to blame.
We accept cheating and lying every single day. We let politicians take us to war based on lies and fabrications. We make war heroes out of known liars, make blockbuster movies out of them, ignore the seedy parts of his story, and lash out at anyone who points out all the inaccuracies and damage done by the alleged hero. We let football teams play and win the Super Bowl when they allegedly cheated to get there. By continuing to buy his music, we tell Kanye West that his repeated temper tantrums when his favorite music doesn’t win the top awards and insults to all music lovers by telling us we have no taste, that his behavior is acceptable. We reinstate the wins previously stripped from Penn State during the Joe Paterno years when many children were brutally assaulted by Jerry Sandusky, Joe’s assistant coach, when by all accounts Mr. Paterno and Penn State looked the other way.
Simply put, we live in a society where winning trumps all. And if you don’t win or your friends don’t win, act like a petulant child.
I’m thrilled that the adults involved in this scandal have been punished. They should be. They should be banned from Little League and all sports forever.
I just wish there was a way to punish the adults without punishing the kids.
The Jackie Robinson West players, from some of the most impoverished parts of Chicago and with little opportunity, gave their communities hope. They showed themselves what honest, hard work can achieve. They learned about sportsmanship. For many of them, they may have put themselves on a track to escape poverty through educational opportunities that would otherwise be out of reach.
I hope that in light of today’s decision, the kids continue to remember all the things they did that were right, that they hold their heads high, focus on the lessons they learned about achieving dreams and goals, and continue to show good sportsmanship. That will be the greatest victory of all.
Here’s a video from one of the players. I love this.
http://player.ooyala.com/iframe.js#pbid=4441ed2a84e74b66b60ce980f20deb84&ec=g3bHBhczr3UVZV1RvJ8ul99oV0jqqW0aMany ChicagoNow bloggers wrote about Jackie Robinson West yesterday and they’ve all been collected here.
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Text spam: The cray-cray is strong
Starting tonight at 5:22 p.m. and ending at 7:32 p.m., when I blocked the phone number, I received 86 text spam messages from 312-507-1045. After the first 15 messages, I googled the number and came across this tweet:
That number again is 1-312-507-1045 it is the babble of an insane illiterate nut job!
— tom kelly (@Tomkellyart) August 17, 2014
//platform.twitter.com/widgets.jsI also found two complaints from August and September 2014 on a site called Mr. Number about people receiving many texts from this number complaining about a government conspiracy. I had no plans of responding to this number because (1) that would confirm for the sender that my number was real and working; (2) once the sender knew my number was real and working, I’d be barraged with even more text spam from God knows where; and (3) I was certain that it was a scam and would reveal itself as such at some point.
What I didn’t expect was how this text spam would affect more than two hours after I blocked the number on my phone, making it stop. The spammer never asked me for anything. She just shared a horrifying conspiracy story that, to me, screams of mental illness. Let’s be clear: I don’t believe that any of this happened, but I do believe the sender may believe it happened.
Why did the texts affect me? Mostly because I can usually spot mental illness a mile away and if these texts were sent by a real person (as opposed to a bot), then I genuinely feel badly for the sender who believes all of this is true and hope she gets the help she needs.
If you receive text messages like this do not respond. You can block numbers in your phone by following these simple instructions.
This is a transcript of the 86 messages I received in two hours. The only edit I’ve made is to redact the street addresses.
My name is Lawanda O’Neal 17 years ago I attended Chicago State University to become a special education teacher. Eventhough, I had 10yrs as a Certified R
respiratory therapist an eligible to become registered. I was making decent. I had purchased my own home at 12XXX S. Harvard, Chicago, IL. 60628 an
had also purchased 3 brand new cars I was doing pretty good for myself. My 2 doters Latonya an Tarona O’neal. Tarona had her name changed to Yona a few
years ago. I guess you are wondering why am I telling you all this. Well in October 1996 one of my professor’s Dr. Reilly during one of my special ed c
lasses burst out an called me Retarded it so happen I was I was taping his lecture an I had it on tape. It became clear to my why I was being haras
sed by the staff an co-students. They were sneaking an checking peoples IQ numbers from their grade school recordr. I was 43 yrs old at the time an had
knowledge of the discrepancy with African Americans an their IQ numbers an the Supreme courts ruling that
Was to stop the judgement of Black people by their IQ numbers. I went to Jesse Jackson Rainbow Coalition for help. I filled out the application an they
listened to the tape. When I returned to school all the harassment an stalking had stopped. I new t hat Jesse Jackson had contacted them but after about
2 weeks it all started back with a vengeance it became a nitemare. My family an I were secretly placed under a mind control called Subjective Hypnosis
it affects our reasoning. My whole life was turned upside down. I was told later by a friend that the Chicago teachers union paid Jesse Jackson off. My
doter Latonya also went to t he Jehovah Witnesses an asked them to help because their dad, his mom an sister are witnesses an we sometimes studied the bi
ble with them an thought they were an honest God fearing religion however, they took a payoff an to discredit me they began to say I was mental ill.
I was forced to mental hospital by the Chicago police dept. An abused&tortured severely. They took me to Tinley Park mental
hospital without pain medication they took my bone marrow. it was the worst pain I had ever experienced. They would hurt me psychological an give me m
ind altering drugs an at the same time they were setting everything up to murder my mom who had 500.000 dollars in Seaway bank an to destroy my doters an gr
andchilrens an my sisters life. I guess you are wondering why would they be doing that.Well, I found out that the supreme courts ruling says that any blood relative can sue me if I die an their is no statue of limitation on IQ Discrimination so that means we all have to die or be mental ill so tha
t we are not credible to to be listen to. My gson Mark Owens jr was 7yrs old when this started by the time he was 12 or 13 he was being diagnosed by a jeh
ovah witness social worker Mr. Taylor at TCA clinic on 130 th st. The pychatrist claimed he didn’t do children.
The Social worker diagnosis him with a mental illness? He told my doter that my gson was a class bipolar. He was in an out of Christ hospital mental un
it an each time he was taken their the dept. of children an family services came as if he was a foster child. We later found out they were lying claimin
g he was a ward of the state. We also found out he was being raped every time he was admitted. As he got older an I began to text for help the police be
gan to pick on him. In august of 2010 a jehovah witness guy that he new from when they lived at 8XXX Sandra Dr. in University Park. It appeared to be a s
et-up because when he left the police stopped him an asked for his I.D. He shoed them an she told him he could go. When he turned the female police off
icer attacked him an he was shocked an confused. She tazed him from the back. She said he attend heq but we new that was a lie. He is pretty mannera
ble young man. He was beaten an taken to Will county detention center. We found out that even though his dad had hired an attorney, Nathiel Jones he wouldn’t take pics of my gsons beaten face an he war also being force tn do oral sex on the guards their an being held in a padded cell.
He was unable to attend court an the police has never gave my doter Latonya or his dad Mark Owens sr. A police report. My gsons dad payed after about 3
months. 17,500.00 for bail. They called it assaulting a police officer. When he came home he was so hypnotized very deeply they had complete control of
him. His behavior was that of a robot an if u asked him now about the things that he did he dont even remember them. He was hypnotized to the point tha
t he an my doter Tarona had a physical fight. She is also hypnotized severely like a robot. I had to call the police. I believe the government, Jesse Jac
kson, an Jehovah Witnesses were trying to find a way to keep him in custody to hide the terrible abuses that they have allowed to happen to a child. My
gson had stop talking verbally since he had come home. I think he was ashamed of all the rapes an abuses he had suffered. But when
The police arrived one of them did a hand sign an he began to talk an thats when he told us about the oral sex that the guards forced him to do on them
while he was in jail. My doter new about one of the rapes at Christ hospital but she could not get DCFS to respond to her request for help for her son.
They never came to investigate. He did say about other rapes at Christ hospital he said it all in the presence of the police officer they listened an t
hen left after my goons dad came. The mind control caused his bad behavior to continue. He even missed a court date his dad was very angry because he ha
d put his pension money up for his bail. I believe they were trying to keep his dads money. Because they were an are controlling my gsons mind. They fo
rced him to miss court. Com-ed puts high volumes of electricity in our homes an pats. To put us on edge an it made him very nervous an all of us were. T
he electricity volumes were so high that we had to disconnect our furnace they had it coming through the vents. My furnace was gas an electric
Com-ed had the electricity so high that we would raise our windows an open the doors. They were determine to get him in custody. With all the high volum
es of electricity he began to act up again an I had to call the police again but tis time they came with a swat team. I believe they planned to kill hi
m because of what he had told about what they did to him in jail. We just wanted them to take him to the hospital for what they claim is bipolar bu
t it is Subjective Hypnosis mind control. When they arrived at my gson grabbed a shovel to block the front door. He was so afraid he was shaking. I guess b
because of the terrible abuse he suffered in jail. We dont know how the police got in but they came through our side door. My gson was in the kitchen rig
ht next to the side door with the shovel in his hand they told him to drop it an he did an raise his hands he did that an out of no where the officer ju
st attacked him an started to beat him. We dont no why. I was standing their shocked because he had not done anything to cause the attack.
My doter his mom began to scream an beg the officer to stop taxing him. She said what are you trying to do kill him an t hats when a officer through her
up against the wall an another attack her with a needle or something in her hand. They took her outside an explain that their careers were on the line an
she had to stop. They picked my gson off the floor an arrested him. That was in February of 2011 an still no police report. They have him in Elgin Ment
alhospital. They first took him to cook county jail then back to will county jail where he had been raped an abused. They then sent him to Chester, IL
to a maximum security mental hospital where he was abused badly. He’s now in Elgin mental hospital it looks like they are making any excuse to hold him
their he has been their about 2yrs an it doesnt look like they are trying to free him. I new that they were trying to keep him they want to cover-up all
the rapes, an abuses he has went through for most of his life. He is now 24yrs old an we are hoping that they dont find a way to murder him. We are
Afraid for his life. My doter went to the Governor, Periwinkle, all the political people in Will county an Chicago to try an get help for her son. But b
because this is a Conspiracy everything she did was ignored. An to punish us for looking to help they bombed my home of 26yrs on June 13, 2011. I had Al
lstate homeowners insurance they set-us up in comfort suites hotel in Lansing il for 4days. Then we went to Extended Stay of America until 7-18-11 we we
re than placed into a house at 4XXX webb st., Calumet City, il. In October 2011 Allstate sent me a check for 96.00 claiming it was reimburstment of the m
oney we had spent for 1 month stay in the hotels for 3 adults an 1 child. I was shocked then they sent me an itemization letter of all the money that th
ey had spent. They claim they paid 6000.00 for our rooms in 2 hotels we had 1 room in comfort suites an 2 rooms in extended stay. they also claim that
I was given 7000.00 emergency money that was a lie. They only gave me 2000.00 emergency money. They were trying to steal my
Money. The last straw was also in Oct. 8, 2011 the water in the house was turned off. I called Pat Caine of Allstate who was suppose to be covering my cla
im. She an her boss told me that I had to get the water put in my name. I was very uncomfortable doing that so I asked if Allstate would put it in their
name an I would pay the bill. Pat Caine told me no an my doter Latonya an I decided to look for an attorney. We couldn’t find an attorney here in Chicag
o. They took down directory in office building. They wouldnt allow us into buildings that housed lawyers. They did everything to stop us from getting an
attorney including pretending to be an attorney. It was like a movie. My doter Latonya an I decided to leave Chicago to find an attorney. In dec. 2011
we left we have been to 18 states an have been unable to find help from politicians, an were blocked from lawyers the same way they did us here. This is
a Big Conspiracy. We have been to Washington DC three times. We left letters for Obama, Boehner, Pelosi, Boxer,
An many more. We explained what was happening to our family. None have tried to contact us nor help us. We are still looking for an attorney. Let me exp
lain how this Subjective Hypnosis works. First of all it affects our reasoning. They use it in conjunction with bacteria, an Com-ed puts high volumes of
electricity in our homes an apts. We are put under it while we r sleep through our senses of see, hear, taste, feel, smell they can get us to do anythi
ng thats programmed in us at nite. They prevent us from bathing, washing our hair, brushing our teeth. They go to extreme measures to stop us from takin
g care of our bodies one of the ways is to turn off our water in our home. For the last 15yrs no matter what I paid the water co. my water would be off.
I paid them in access of about 15,000.00 an they would still find an excuse to turn it off usually more money. They make us reason good hygiene is not
needed. My sister faye bath 2 times a day. Now she says she feels funny when she bath after her surgery. They prevent us from having
Regular Daily bowel movements an urinating by hypnosis an not allowing us to eat vegetables. They also wouldn’t allow me to have my teeth fixed years ago.
I didn’t no why no dentist would repair my gums but now I know that they need bacteria. I no this will sound crazy but they even put roaches in our home
to spread bacteria thats how much they need filth to be able to control an force you to get sick when they are ready an possibly murder us. They go
to extremes to stop us from eating certain foods like green vegetables they have the stores remove foods or increase prices so that we can’t afford them.
my baby doter Tarona has stop eating vegetables an she was very health conscious. So I’m sure they are forcing her to do that with the mind control. Be
fore my mom was murdered by the University of Chicago hospital. She appeared to be afraid to eat mustard an turnip greens an she ate them almost everyda
y before this experiment. I asked her why she can’t eat greens an she said I dont know why. With this mind control they can make us appear to have
Alzhemiers thats what they did to my mom. Then they had a court an gave my moms money to my nephew. Androllno Clay an his new wife, Star D. Clay who I bel
th the help of the dept. of aging My mom had her 4 daughters on her account has her beneficiaries. Now they went an gave the money to some1 that would giv
e the government an Jesse Jackson some of my moms money Star an her mom an dad who I also believe are involved in this conspiracy/genocide on my family
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Professional headshot: the picture that speaks 1,000 words
Late in 2014, I decided to make an investment in myself and obtain a truly professional headshot for my LinkedIn profile, my blog, and other uses. Keep in mind that this was a big decision because quality isn’t cheap and I don’t currently have a job.
A few things you should know about me: I hate having my picture taken and there are very few pictures in existence that I actually like. I’ve had headshot photos taken before and been incredibly disappointed, so it was very difficult to convince me that this experience would be any different. In my mind and experience, getting a headshot is the adult equivalent of elementary school pictures.
My past experience with getting a headshot involved a photographer using one background – generally white – for everyone, positioning me in two or three poses with two or three shots of each pose, and sending me what he thought was the best picture. The entire process would take about 4 minutes. No stopping to adjust the lighting, no editing the picture. Nothing. To be fair, these were done for free at networking events. Proof that you get what you pay for.
My friend Sima Dahl, owner of Sway Factory and marketing and branding guru, holds Headshot Days throughout the year. On these days, she brings in photographer Paul Audia and make-up artist Karen Koenig to offer professional make-up application and photography.
Let’s talk about make-up. I feel pretty confident in my daily make-up application and the colors I choose to wear. As a Mary Kay Consultant, I’ve gone through extensive training on choosing colors for women and teaching them to apply it based on their face shape, eye shape, etc.
But here’s the thing: Every day make-up is not photography make-up. Karen taught me a couple of tricks I didn’t know, including recommending a foundation that would help neutralize my Rosecea. I took her advice and am astounded by the results. Not knowing what colors I normally wear or how I normally do my make-up, I was thrilled when Karen chose color families I regularly wear. I knew I was doing something right.
My favorite new make-up technique was the fake eye-lashes. I’ve never worn them before and couldn’t believe the difference they made. It’s no understatement to tell you that the lashes make my eyes, which are my favorite part of my body, pop out of the photos. They’re subtle enough that they bring the focus to my eyes without focusing on the lashes. I did not ever want to take them off.
Once my make-up was done, I moved over to Audia’s chair. Before he began taking photos, he spent quite a bit of time adjusting my position, the lighting, and backgrounds to get it just right. Then the camera began clicking. He took close to 100 shots with both light and dark backgrounds, different levels of lights, with and without my glasses, and in different poses. I was in his chair for at least 30 minutes.
About a week later, I received a link to off of my proofs. I was then tasked with picking my favorite for him to touch-up. I had a difficult time choosing just one picture because there were so many pictures that I truly loved. Out of about 100 photos, I would have been happy choosing any of more than a dozen. For a woman who doesn’t like having her picture taken, those are phenomenal results. The others weren’t bad; in fact, they were quite good. These 12 just really jumped out at me.
When I received my final photo from Audia, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Without a doubt, it’s my favorite photo of me ever. I’m so glad that made the investment in me and took this step. Today, more than ever, first impressions count and we can’t just use any photo for our LinkedIn profile picture. My previous photo was fine, but my new photo takes me to the next level. I’ve also noticed that my profile views on LinkedIn have gone up significantly since I changed out my photo.
I would absolutely participate in Headshot Days again to keep my photo updated. I also highly recommend this experience to everyone. I walked out that day feeling more confident about myself and when I went out that night, I felt sexy.
To get on Sima’s email list for Headshot Days, connect with her on LinkedIn.
NOTE: I adore Sima, Sway Factory, Audia, and Karen Koenig and the phenomenal work they did on my headshot, but I did not receive any compensation for this blog post. If you sign up for Headshot Days, I will not receive any compensation. This post is 100% my opinion.
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Livingston Gifford Gardner, June 8, 1916 – January 11, 1995
Twenty years ago today, my paternal grandfather, Livingston Gifford Gardner, died. It wasn’t unexpected. Grandpa had been sick for as long as I could remember and we’d gotten a call in early December 1994 saying that doctors gave him about a month to live.
Although he’d been sick for close to 20 years, I can’t remember the name of what he had. His illness claimed both of his legs in separate amputations, but he always looked on the bright side of things and I never once heard him complain.
Grandpa was an incredibly generous and compassionate man. He was involved in the early days of Lambs Farm when he and his company, Pioneer Pet Supply, donated the inventory that helped begin the pet store staffed by people with developmental disabilities. That pet store eventually became Lambs Farm and Grandpa sat on their Board of Directors from their inception until 1977, when he and Grandma moved to Sanibel Island, Fla.
In the Summer of 1980, Grandpa introduced me to politics as we watched Ronald Reagan accept the nomination for president at the Republican National Committee. I remember sitting at his knee on the lanai of his and Grandma’s Sanibel Island home, sharing his favorite snack of peanut butter on Ritz Crackers as he shared with me how Ronald Reagan would change the world. I fell in love with politics that summer and think of Grandpa every time I vote.
Grandma and Grandpa had five children – Giff, John (my dad), Jeff, Kathy, and Ray – and after the mid-1970s, they were spread between Chicago, St. Louis, Minneapolis, and Colorado. Because it was not easy keeping up with everyone, every month without fail, Grandpa would write a family letter summarizing all the news. Of course, this was long before the internet including email and Facebook, so these monthly letters were the best way to keep up with my aunts, uncles, and cousins. I always loved it when I received a shout-out from Grandpa.
I sent this to Grandpa in 1993, but after he died, Grandma sent it to me with a note telling me how much he loved it and that it hung on the wall in his room at the nursing home for a long time. (c) Jessica L. Gardner My favorite memory of Grandpa is our annual bet on the All-Star Baseball Game in July. Even though he grew up on the North Shore, Grandpa had the unfortunate affliction of being a die-hard White Sox fan, while I have bled Cubbie Blue for my entire life. The bet was simple: He took the American League and I had the National League. Originally we bet 25¢, but we eventually increased our bet to $1.00. Even though we both knew we were betting, our official rules stated that we had to seal the deal with a phone call prior to the first pitch. We both paid up promptly when we lost, although one year, I had to invoice Grandpa because he was a bit lax in his payment.
About 4 or 5 weeks before Grandpa died, the call came saying he had a month or maybe six weeks to live. I was devastated. He would be my first grandparent to die in my lifetime and I just didn’t know how to process it. I cried and cried and then did the only thing I could think of to do: I booked a ticket to Florida for early January.
I remember my parents trying to talk me out of the weekend trip. They insisted I’d regret seeing Grandpa in the state he was in those final few weeks. He wouldn’t recognize me and he couldn’t talk, they said. I went anyway. My dad was already in Fort Myers when I arrived.
We visited with Grandma and then went over to the nursing home to see Grandpa. He didn’t look much like I remembered, and although he was mostly non-verbal, he still had his laugh as Dad, Grandma, and I shared stories and memories. I even fed him.
Although I’d been pretty stoic for the entire weekend, on my last night in Fort Myers, I was very emotional. About 9:00, I told my dad I was going for a walk and would be right back, but I had to see Grandpa one last time. I sat in his room, held his hand, and spoke to him for what seemed like hours, but was probably no more than an hour. Visiting hours had long ended, but the nurses never asked me to leave.
Eventually, dad found me and all but had to physically remove me from Grandpa’s room. I simply didn’t want to say good-bye.
Grandpa hadn’t coherently spoken all weekend, but as Dad and I walked out of his room, I turned around one last time and said, “Good bye. I love you Grandpa.” Clear as day and without missing a beat, Grandpa replied, “I love you, Jessica.”
I boarded my flight back to D.C. early the next morning and sobbed from the moment I boarded until the moment I walked back into my office.
Grandpa died peacefully a couple of nights later. Although it was incredibly painful seeing Grandpa in those final days, I’ve never regretted that trip for one moment and I’ll always his final words to me in my heart. It’s hard to believe that it’s been 20 years since he passed away because I still miss him. Fortunately, he still visits me every so often in a dream.
In researching Grandpa recently, I came across some pretty cool documents that I’d never seen before:
- “Obituary of Livingston Gifford, Ph.B. 1875,” Yale University Obituary Record, 1936-1937, p. 140. (Livington Gifford was Grandpa’s grandfather and Grandpa was a member of the Yale Class of 1940)
- “Henry Gardners tell betrothal of Marie Louise,” Chicago Daily Tribune, Oct. 3, 1938, p. 15. (Marie Louise was one of Grandpa’s sisters)
- “Miss Peggy Bear’s Engagement to Gifford Gardner Announced,” Chicago Daily Tribune, Mar. 31, 1941, p. 13.
- “Obituary of Livingston Gifford Gardner,” Chicago Tribune, Jan. 21, 1995. (I’ve seen Grandpa’s obituary before).
- “L. Gifford Gardner; Helped Teachers Found Lambs Farm,” Chicago Sun-Times, Jan. 21, 1995. (I’d never seen this obituary until tonight)
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Winter Driving 101 (or how to drive in Chicago without being a jackass)
The dawn of the New Year has brought Winter to Chicago and with it snow, ice, sleet, cold, and winter driving. Now ideally, no one would leave their home from now until June (just in time for my birthday), but the reality is that sometimes, we have to leave the house to run crazy errands like get to work, take the kids to school, and get groceries. Unless you live within walking or public transportation distance of all of these things, you find yourself in a car during Winter at some point.
Winter Driving is fundamentally different from Summer Driving. The roads are regularly wet; black ice is a threat; snow, sleet, and wind can be blinding; your car needs different care; and you must change the way you drive to avoid spinouts, accidents, breakdowns, and running off the road.
I learned to drive during the Chicago Winter of 1987. Part of my education included my mom specifically putting me into situations with black ice in empty parking lots and in a cul-du-sac in our neighborhood. She also made me get out on the main roads and learn about keeping proper distance and maintaining safe speeds in inclement weather. We took things slowly, but she didn’t shy away from putting me in these situations. Her philosophy was that it was better for me to learn with her in the car in a pretty safe environment, than for me to have to learn later on my own when mistakes could be deadly.
Frankly, I thought everyone learned how to drive this way. And every single Winter, I’m reminded just how many Chicagoans have no idea that Winter Driving is a whole new ball game. A few years ago, on Little Merry Sunshine 1.0, I blogged about Winter Driving on a number of occasions, which you can read at Little Merry Sunshine’s Rules of the Road, Little Merry Sunshine’s Blizzard Driving Tips, and LMS’s Winter Driving Tips Revisited.
At the risk of repeating myself and because I had the pleasure of being out on the roads last night, during the snowfall, it’s time to update my tips. Of course, my Winter Driving Rules do not replace the actual State of Illinois 2014 Rules of the Road. Read them and know them. For your convenience, I’ve categorized my Winter Driving Rules.
Car Maintenance
- Keep all of your fluids topped off. Winter is no time to run out of windshield washer fluid. Keep yours full and keep an extra gallon of it in your trunk.
- Make sure that all of your lights are working. It takes two seconds to confirm that your brake lights, , emergency blinkers, turn signals, back-up lights, and headlights are all working. Doing this with a buddy speeds up the two second process. Get burned out lights fixed.
- Invest in winter wiper blades. I don’t know how they magically work to keep your windshield cleaner, but they do. They’re a little more expensive than regular blades, but being able to see on the road is priceless. Every car repair shop has them.
- Keep your gas tank at least half full. Traffic jams happen and the last thing you want is to run out of gas in the midst of one. I like to keep my tank three-quarters full in the winter, but that’s my preference.
- Park your car in a garage. I understand that not everyone has this luxury, but if you do, take advantage of it. It will save you time scraping the snow off your car, digging yourself out after the plows come through, warming it up, and will prevent others from carelessly ramming into your car parked safely in the lot or on the street.
- Invest in winter tires. Yes, this is a serious investment, but they make an enormous difference by giving you far better traction in wet and icy conditions. If you remove them in the summer, you’ll be able to get at least a couple of winters out of them. You’ll extend the life of your regular tires, as well.
- Before Winter arrives, have all the routine maintenance done and check any funky noises in your car. Really, the reasons for this should be obvious.
- Invest in some inexpensive tools that will make parking outside less painful.
- A windshield cover is a must. This is the one that I have. I love it. It keeps my front windshield and side mirror free from snow and ice. Sure, I have to brush the snow off the cover, but once I remove the cover, my windshield and mirrors are 100% clean.
- A couple of good snow and ice scrapers. I primarily use the SNOBRuM because it doesn’t scratch the paint on my car. I also have other scrapers that are good at getting the ice off my windows and windshield.
- Get a shovel and some cat litter to keep in your trunk. Any brand will do. The shovel is obviously to dig you out when you’ve been plowed in and the cat litter not only adds weight to the rear of your car, but also can be spread out on ice or snow to help you gain traction when you’re stuck.
- Let your car properly warm up. It doesn’t take 20 minutes to do this. It takes less than five minutes. I like to do this while I . . .
- Properly remove snow from my car. A car that’s warming up helps melt the ice, making it easier to scrape. Two birds, one stone. Scrape off not only your windows and windshields, but also your hood, trunk, roof, and all lights. I know some people use their wipers to clear snow from their front and back windshields, but this is a horrible idea. It tears up your wipers and doesn’t clear the entire windshield, thus reducing your visibility. Yes, it takes time to remove snow from your hood, roof, trunk, and lights, but if you’ve ever been behind a car with 6 inches of snow on its roof when all that snow blows off and lands on your windshield blinding you, you know what a danger this is for other drivers. Clearing all of your lights not only makes it easier for you to see what’s ahead, but makes it easier for others to see you.
- Confirm that your spare tire is inflated and know how to change a tire. Here’s a great video from Saab on how to change a tire. If you have to change a tire, remember that your spare tire is just that and you’ll still need to get a real new tire as soon as possible.
Personal safety in your car
- Carry your fully-charged cell phone with you and invest in a car charger to keep it fully charged. When I’m driving anywhere of any significant distance in the Winter, my phone is on the charger.
- Don’t text and drive or talk on your phone unless you’re using a hands-free device. For one, it’s illegal in Illinois to do either of these things 24/7/365. For another, blue tooth devices are pretty cheap these days. You never know when you’ll need your phone, so use it safely. Obviously, you’ll need to keep your hands-free device fully charged, but you can also get car chargers for them.
- Carry an emergency bag. Mine is packed with my sleeping bag; hand and foot warmers; extra socks, gloves, and hats; a few bottles of water, some snacks, paper towels, an actual towel, flashlight, and a first aid kit. You could also have glow-in-the-dark signs requesting help or other.
- Carry jumper cables and know how to use them. Here’s a great video in case you don’t know how to use them.
- Dress appropriately for winter. This sounds silly, but if you break down in your car in a blizzard, you really don’t want to be wearing flip flops.
- Wear your seatbelt and confirm that your kids are properly buckled in. It’s the law.
Driving Rules
- Turn on your headlights. Yes, it may be the middle of the afternoon on a kinda cloudy day and you can see just fine. Your headlights help others see you though. Through my completely scientific research of driving around Chicago, it seems that the most popular car color is in the gray and silver category. On gray days, your car becomes the same color as the weather. Turning on your headlights lets others know you’re there.
- Using your wipers? Illinois law requires your headlights to be on. This seems like it’s a no-brainer, but obviously so few people do this, Illinois had to codify it.
- Leave extra space between you and the car in front of you. It takes longer to stop on wet and icy roads. Plus, tailgating even in good weather is just a jerk move.
- Use your turn signals and turn them off when you’re done. Believe it or not, turn signals are not decorative. They serve a purpose in letting other drivers know what you’re about to do. Use them when you’re exiting the highway, entering the highway, turning a corner, and changing lanes. Seriously, this isn’t complicated. It’s also the law.
- Slow down. The roads are deceptive and Winter Driving requires you to anticipate these optical illusions. Black ice is a very real danger and unless you are a professional race car driver (you’re not, trust me), you will have great difficulties controlling your car at high speeds. I’m not saying that you must always drive like your grandmother, but I am saying that you need to adjust your style as conditions warrant. I will spare you stories of the dangerous drivers I shared the road with last night. Just trust me.
- Use the appropriate lane. This is a rule that applies all year long. Slower drivers should stay to the right.
- Don’t be afraid to use your blinkers. If you are driving particularly slowly, turn on your emergency blinkers to let other drivers know and stay as far to the right as possible.
- Use an app like Waze. I discovered this app recently when I was stuck in horrendous traffic because of a car accident ahead of me. What I like about Waze is that it has real-time road conditions provided by other people using the app (“Wazers”). This allows it to change your route appropriately. Just make sure you plug in your destination before leaving home because it won’t let you do it while you’re driving. I also like it’s mapping service better than other apps.
- Let people know where you’re going. I’m not suggesting you go back to being 16 and telling your mom of your whereabouts 24/7, but especially if you’re going to be traveling somewhere off your regularly-beaten-pather, letting someone know can save your life. If you need help, but can’t communicate on your own, this will make it easier to find you.
- Know how to drive on black ice and respond when your car begins to skid. Having these skills could save your life. Read these instructions for driving on black ice and instructions for getting out of a skid.
Breakdowns & Accidents – If you’ve followed all of my tips above, you’ll hopefully not have a breakdown or an accident, but if you do, I’ve got you covered.
- If possible, pull off to the side of the road. This will hopefully prevent others from hitting you and will keep everyone on the road safer.
- No matter what, turn on your emergency hazard lights. Duh.
- Call 911. This will start the process of getting help to you. You’ll need some basic information including your location and what happened. Keep in mind that all calls to 911 are triaged and prioritized. This means that depending on your situation and how many other calls there are to 911, you may be waiting awhile. Accidents with injuries and that are blocking the road take priority. If you’re sitting on the side of the road with a flat tire, be prepared to wait. This is why I always recommend having . . .
- Membership in AAA or other emergency roadside assistance club. Do not call AAA if you’ve been in an accident. Call them if you’ve got a flat, you run out of gas, or if your car won’t start, etc. Sure, it’s $100 a year or so to join, but when you need them, it’s the best deal around.
- Always stay with your car. Seriously, I can’t think of a reason why you should ever get out of your car and walk for help in winter driving conditions. If you do need to get out of your car . . .
- Get out of your car on the side that is away from traffic. If you’re stranded for any length of time, you’ll want to get out and remove snow from your tailpipe so you don’t die of carbon monoxide poisoning. You may also want to remove snow from your windows occasionally. Do this on the far side of your car, away from traffic for your own safety.
- If you can, run the engine occasionally for warmth, but keep a window open a little and keep the tailpipe free of snow. We discussed how and why above.
Bottom line: Use common sense and don’t be a jackass.
Follow my rules for the road and you’ll be safe driving this Winter.
Note: I’ve included links to products and services I like. I do not, however, receive any sort of benefit for mentioning them in my blog nor do I receive any benefit should you click on the links or purchase the products or services.
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How do you say goodbye to a lifelong dream?
In just over 24 hours, I will give up all chances of fulfilling my greatest lifelong dream: becoming a biological mother.
That’s right, I will no longer be able to have my own children. And I’m doing this sort of by choice.
Let’s back up . . .
Earlier this year, and quite by accident when I had a CT Scan after my car accident, it was discovered that I have fibroids in my uterus. If you’re not a woman or otherwise not familiar with fibroids, the Mayo Clinic explains that “[u]terine fibroids develop from the smooth muscular tissue of the uterus (myometrium). A single cell divides repeatedly, eventually creating a firm, rubbery mass distinct from nearby tissue.” Fibroids are very common and many women don’t even know they have them because they don’t experience symptoms, or like me, don’t realize their symptoms are symptoms.
Last month, I finally decided to check out the issue of these fibroids at my annual exam. Dr. Susan Shaw, a very kind and compassionate OB-GYN, said she could feel them (I guess when you know what you’re feeling for, they’re not so tough to find), which meant they weren’t tiny. We joked that they were sizable enough and my uterus was swollen enough that I must be having fibroid babies. She ordered an ultrasound to determine their exact size and placement and called me with the results shortly after Thanksgiving.
Post-ultrasound, the official diagnosis was two sizable uterine fibroids (I’ve named the Fibroid Twins Thing 1 and Thing 2), that are lodged within my uterine wall (specifically called Intramural Fibroids – are they playing after-school volleyball in there?), and look like Mickey Mouse ears on the films. Dr. Shaw and I had another discussion about my symptoms (I have at least five of them) and my options for treatment.
After studying the multiple treatment options, I quickly narrowed my choices down to the “do nothing and see what happens” plan or having a Uterine Artery Embolization (“UAE”). The UAE is a fairly simply procedure that involves cutting off the blood supply to the uterus, which in turn causes the fibroids to shrivel up and die (source: Mayo Clinic). Don’t let the “simple procedure” description to fool you. From what I’ve learned, recovery is a bitch and takes anywhere from 10 days to one month.
As part of my decision making process, I obtained the required MRI, which provided us full technicolor images of Thing 1 and Thing 2, and met with Dr. Eliot Hohlastos, an interventional radiologist at Northwestern Lake Forest Hospital, to learn all about what I could expect if I chose to move forward. I learned, that part of the procedure includes an epidural and cramping on the level of labor pains for up to a month after the procedure. Yay! I get to experience the super fun parts of childbirth without actually getting to go home with a new baby. Thing 1 and Thing 2 will be coming home with me, but they’ll remain in my uterus wall where they’ll die.
Because it’s unknown exactly how long Thing 1 and Thing 2 have been growing inside of me and because the good folks who found them in April didn’t measure them, it’s impossible to know quickly they’re growing. I can pinpoint my symptoms to the past 18 months or so, so that gives us some idea about when the fibroids began growing.
One of the fun facts about fibroids is that they can cause infertility and pregnancy loss, so it’s entirely possible that I’ve been unable to get pregnant for a long time. And let’s be honest, at 43, I’m not getting more fertile. Cutting off the blood supply to my uterus, as part of the UAE, eliminates whatever remaining chances I have for getting pregnant.
Being a biological mother has been a dream of mine for as long as I remember. I looked forward to being pregnant one day, giving birth, and being a very involved mom, although not a Helicopter Mom. I dreamed of letting my daughter and son play with the Legos; blocks; puzzles; dolls; Star Wars action figures; Fischer Price house, airport, farm; Nancy Drew, Little House on the Prairie, and Anne of Greene Gables books; and more, that Dave and I shared. Yes, my mom saved all of it.
I had dreams of creating tea parties for my children, like my mom did for me, using my child-sized china tea party set that was my mom’s before it was mine. I eagerly anticipated playing Santa and the magic of Christmas morning, the way my parents created that magic for us.
I dreamed of helping my children with homework, even learning Common Core math, and volunteering at their schools and attending parent-teacher conferences. Heck, knowing me, I’d probably even be the PTA president.
I even dreamed of the raucous tween and teen years, when my children would try my patience far more than I tried my mom’s patience.
Of course, there is still the possibility of becoming a step-mom and I can choose to adopt. Both of these options to becoming a mother are choices I could be perfectly happy with in the next few years. They’re just not the dream I’ve had for as long as I can remember.
Now that I’ve been dealing with this reality for the past few weeks, I can tell you that I’m sad and have shed a lot of tears. The last few nights, I’ve had fitful sleep and dreams. I even had a pretty public meltdown about 15 minutes after making the decision. I know that not every dream turns into reality, but this is one I just always believed would.
Quite unlike the lumpectomy I had in November, I’ve held this decision close to my chest and only a very few people have known about it until now. I’ve done so because I was afraid of Monday morning quarterbacking that would lead me to second guess myself. Believe me, I’ve done enough of that on my own. I also just didn’t know how to talk about it.
I know in my gut that having the UAE is the right decision because it will significantly decrease my symptoms, I’ve still asked the “what if” questions. What if I meet the right man for me tomorrow? If I do, he’ll love me for me and not because he hopes I’m a baby making machine. What if I just hang on a little longer and maybe the symptoms will go away on their own? They won’t. The list goes on.
I’ve spent hours in reflection about my decision, talked to professionals, and sought counseling. I know this is the right choice for me.
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Jessica L Gardner 