The Hug Cycle

When I was little, I always thought that the way to fix things was through hugs. I was torn apart when I upset a friend of mine and I had no tools in my mental toolbox to comfort her. All I knew to do was hug her, and it was not what she wanted/needed. I was at an complete loss and felt atrociously guilty for causing the problem, and then making it worse by trying to fix it. Thus started a 'Hug Cycle'. I'd feel like I upset my friend, and want to apologize, so I'd hug her, she'd get more upset and push me away. I'd see that she was more upset, so I'd hug her...And so on and so forth.

My hypothesis is this: My love language is touch. Touch, such as hugging, brings me happiness and comfort, and when I was a kid I thought everyone received love in this way. Of course, that isn't true, people express and receive love in many different ways, and for some people hugging them can be offensive. Such is life.

Unfortunately, hugging to apologize has now turned into profuse expressions of "I'm sorry" over and over and over again until, no matter how sincere I am, the words hold no meaning. I admittedly do the same when I say "Thank you". I mean it every single time I say it, but when said too many times, people seem to no longer feel the gratitude. 

Currently, I'm working on different coping mechanisms to find a happy medium of expressing my gratitude, or my apology, without cheapening the expression and leaving it at that.

Feel free in the comments below to express your ways of showing gratitude and/or apology.

Manifestation Station

I've put together written lists and ideals in the past about what I see as my ideal (human*) life partner, but I've never done a full vision board with pictures and the like. So, I'mma gonna do it here.
                           
*I specify human, as a friend of mine did a full vision board and ended up getting the dog of her dreams.

By the way, I don't own a single one of these pictures. Just pulling them from the web to use for the vision board.

A person, male or female, over 18, under 25 years my senior. Athletic, active, happy, excitable, jovial.

Similar interests as me. Someone who loves to ride and work on motorcycles. Someone who loves to ride and work with horses. A person who loves fencing, Loves to create. Loves to explore. Loves to learn.
The person I believe I could be happiest with would be a kind, adventurous, intelligent human who supports my activities, and who's activities they will share with me, teach me, and I can support. I love doing things together.

I want someone who has an exceptional set of skills and a wide variety of interests. "Don't lead, as I may not follow. Don't follow, as I may not lead. Walk beside me, and be my friend."
I want someone who is independent, and wants to walk their own path and live their own life, parallel to mine. We can support each other, teach each other, help each other as needed, but he or she is not guiding me along, and I am not guiding them. Neither of us should have to drag the other through life. I want to be with someone who is intrinsically motivated. Someone who is financially independent. Someone who is okay with me being independent. Someone who will allow me to have freedom. Someone who lives without jealousy.
I'm looking for a man or a woman who I can grow with. I want us to be on a similar level. I want to teach them, and for them to teach me, but for us to be close enough that neither feel dragged down.

I want someone who is of equal or greater intelligence than me, and who is always seeking knowledge. Always wanting to expand.

I need to have a partner that will not insult me, put me down, or abuse me in any form or fashion. Abuse is 100% unacceptable, from me or from them.

I have to find my partner drop-dead gorgeous, and I need my partner to feel the same for me. A partner who is highly sexual, roughly similar in their sexual drive as me. A partner has to have similar sex interests as me, interested in exploring outside of the norm as well as staying close to fairly normal sex-play.

They must have a similar and compatible music taste as me. I want someone who will send me silly songs that remind them of me. I need them to enjoy it when I send songs to them. I want someone who sends me Girl You Want by Devo, and INXS's song Need You Tonight.

My partner must be comfortable and happy in their own skin. Confident, relaxed, joyous.

They have to want to kiss me, hold me, and physically convey affection whether in public or private. I want a partner who could and would have sex with me in public (probably at an event that has a safe zone to do that in, like a burner event, private camp out with friends, orgy party, swingers group, etc) and who would be happy to go skinny dipping.
I need a person without limits, or at least a person who wants to push their limits. A person who believes in the kind of freedom that has two conditions: as long as it does not hurt others, and does not infringe on anyone else's freedom, then it could be explored. For example, I want to be with a partner who would find enjoyment in running through a festival wearing nothing but body paint and singing songs from The Labyrinth to strangers, but on the flipside would never, ever, be sexual towards a child or harm another human without their consent, just to satisfy their own sadistic interests. I want to be with someone who thinks of others, is not selfish, but also strong enough to say no. Someone who's self-worth is so high that they will not hurt themselves, even if it is for the benefit of someone else.

My partner would have to be someone who will dance with me. Anytime. Anywhere. Doesn't matter how good they are, but they must be excited about breaking down freestyle at a moments notice. With or without music. Ballroom, ballet, bellydance, hiphop, jazz, blues, modern, rave, all forms of dance are awesome.

I want someone who will get down and dirty with me in the shop. Whether it's the motorcycle shop, car repair, armor making shop, blacksmith's forge, carpenters studio, special effects lab, pyrotechnics lab, what have you, they gotta want to make things and we gotta be able to chat about it. I can't describe how happy I would be to be able to send my lover a picture of some carburetors I've been taking apart, to get a pic back of some fabulous thing they've been fiddling with. A severed hand made out of silicone, a old hot rod's engine, a new set of metal elbows they just finished hardening, an explosive they put together to blast a tree stump, whateva. Just has to be something.

They must want to take care of themselves. Someone who's active, doesn't smoke, doesn't drink heavily, only drug they do is psychedelics, eats a mostly healthy diet, eats lots of fruits and vegetables, not addicted to anything, not interested in pot. Someone who uses eastern medicine and herbs as much as possible, and only goes to our western doctors when absolutely necessary.

The partner I could be with would not desire to have children. If the relationship grew, and I become older and change my mind, then that limit may change, but currently I believe that I will not have or desire to have kids.

What I love: Passion. Happiness. Similarities in interests. Athletic inclinations. Independence. Kindness. Love of learning. Questioning information. Utilization of scientific method. Talent. Touch. Intelligence.
What I like: Lots of sex. Creativity. Romance. The ability to create/make things.
What I dislike: Owning a dog. Shyness. Stubbornness. Pot use.
What I can't deal with: Laziness. Sedentary. Abuse in any form. Addiction. Rudeness. Selfishness. Racism. Sexism. Unwillingness to expand ones horizon/grow/learn. Unwillingness to listen.


I receive and express love mostly through touch. My partner would have to be willing to be touched, as well as willing to touch me frequently.

That can mean cuddling, holding hands, roughhousing, kissing, bumping shoulders, sex, close dancing, etc.
 

Honesty is extremely important to me. My partner would need to be willing to tell me if something bothers them or not, and on the opposite end would need to not lie to me or others. White lies, like telling me you're sick instead of the truth that you simply don't want to come, are totally lame. I will always work hard to never do that to my lover, and I'd hope that they would strive to never lie to me.

I want someone who's strong, kind, holds self worth above all, and holds freedom and learning as something for life to revolve around. Someone who loves with a fiery passion. Someone who can relax and let the moment be.

<3

Smiling at Strangers

I've done my best to open my heart. There are so many opportunities in a day to make someone else's day, I can't help but look for those moments and execute them every chance I get. This is my goal, and as I discover how I can spread love, I run into green lights as well as road bumps.

It used to be that (at every reasonable opportunity) I would smile at all strangers. 
Recently, I feel like I've been broken of this. Everyone deserves love, light, and happiness, but some people have no boundaries and don't understand that a smile, a hug, or a complement is not an invitation to take advantage of the giver. Someone freely gives, others freely receive, and happiness is generated. Or so I thought. 

People have responded in many different ways when I smile at them. Some people have responded aggressively by honking, yelling, or swerving their cars at me. Some push it too far, thinking smiling means sex. Some get suspicious, thinking there is something I want from them, and that is why I am expressing kindness towards them. All of these reactions seem inappropriate to me, but that doesn't make them invalid. These people are reacting to what they think the hidden message behind the smile is, instead of being present and accepting.

It's hard for me to continue to smile at strangers now, because I am having a hard time being present myself and I fear an inappropriate reaction from the receiver(s). What I'm working on is setting up an energetic 'tone' to my presence, so I can freely give love with no expectations and not invite negative responses.

These are my opinions and hypotheses, feel free to leave yours on the comments below.

To Hit or Not to Hit? I'm thinking Not.

I have been following a Facebook page called  Nonviolent Parenting, and I am loving what they have to say.  
I was hit occasionally as a child by people who were reacting in anger, and I recall being so confused as to why they hit me that I never really got the "message" they were trying to tell me. I could not connect what had happened to what was happening now, let alone understand and reason what I had done to cause them to hit me.  So any form of corporal punishment from what I have seen and experienced is offensive and disturbing to a child, but not informative. 
Take this video for example: 

It indicates that violent means of "correcting" a behavior rears the opposite of the desired result most (if not all) of the time. So, why do people hit their children? There are plenty of excuses, but if you really stop and think about it, non of them can be carried for very long in an argument. Unless you do what many severely blocked and conditioned people do, which is repeat exactly the same thing over and over until the other person walks away, but if you're to behave that way, learning a new way to function is probably not something you're very interested in. Take "I was hit as a kid, and I turned out just fine!" Well, do you think that you learned positive behavior from being hit? Did you understand why your parents, who you depend on for love, acceptance, sustenance, and safety, were striking your physical body? Did you enjoy being struck? Do you want to pass on those experiences to your child, who may eventually grow to be an adult, who may have an impact on the world and may raise their own children, having then to decide if they do or do not want to pass on the way you raised them to their child?

I know that the way my parents responded to me and the feeling I got from the way they behaved impacted how I interacted and still interact with other people.
I remember angering my friend, then, wanting to comfort her, I did what my parents would do for me when I was distressed, and I hugged her, which bothered her even more. In response to that, I hugged her again, which made things worse. I felt terrible because I could not comfort my friend in any way that I knew of because when I was upset, I knew that having a hug was the best thing anyone could do to make me feel better, and when that didn't work on her, I was at a loss.
When another child was behaving in a way I didn't like, I verbally insulted them; I tried to make them feel like they were not as good as me, and sometimes physically hurt them. That was the only way I knew how to deal with other people who were not doing something I liked. No one taught me how to talk through conflict in a positive, productive manner. My family when they got upset tended not to stop, walk away, and then come back later to calmly talk about things with minds clear of anger and frustration. Instead, they screamed and yelled and insulted each other right in the heat of anger. 

From what I remember, when I was four years old, I walked past my brother while humming a song, I believe it was "Hit me Baby" by Brittany S. He picked me up and threw me into an open-faced box fan. I am making an assumption that he didn't like the song and wanted me to stop, and that is why he hurt me, but time twists memories and he may not even remember this at all now.
I am by no means saying that anyone in my family really physically abused me, I don't remember even having bruises, but still I do not like the way they reacted to me or to others.
Whenever I felt like I did something wrong when I was little, and there was no one around to punish me, I would punish myself. If I accidentally hurt the cat, I would take the cat's paw and scratch myself with its claws. If I knocked something over and broke it, I would bite my arm and scratch myself as hard as I could with my nails or other objects until I felt as though justice was served.

Now, I am battling with urges to cut myself in reaction to stress. It sounds like to me that this current behavior links back to me being physically punished by myself or others as a child. Just a hunch. So, why take the risk? Why increase a child's likelihood of growing up bullying others, hurting themselves, beating their spouses, hitting their children, lowering their IQ and so fourth when there are other options out there like creating a healthy, calm place where when you are having a conflict you can stop, and let the tides of fierce emotion dissipate? It takes time to let anger, fear, sadness and all other emotion drain from your glands. Emotion hits the body and mind hard because it is not just spiritual and energetic, it IS physical! It is chemicals rushing through your brain and body. 

Then, when you come back it is easier to think about what you're going to say before you say it. Communicate YOUR feelings, don't tell the other person (children are people too) that they are doing things wrong and it's their fault. Tell them how, when they bite you, or don't wash the dishes, or run away when you call them, makes YOU feel. 

They will understand and learn from these positive behaviors that I have listed above much more easily than they would from being yelled at, accused, threatened, and/or hit.
This information is relevant to the way one could interact with infants, children, adolescents, young adults, adults, middle aged, and all the way up to seniors. And if you think that talking to an infant or child is preposterous, then I ask you: How can one learn, what one has never been taught? Talk to your kids, do what you can for them, help them work through conflicts, and they will learn to do the same for you and for others in life.

"Spanking is just hitting."

Happy Father's Day!

Just a tribute to fathers everywhere.

Goji berry cookies I am making for my father for Father’s Day!

Green Man mask inspiration for my Father’s Day gift.

Peter

Growing up, my family were nudists.

I too always ran around bare, which wasn't a problem because we lived out in the pine forests, so no neighbors to worry about. Except for when I went out on the park road and got picked up by strangers and taken back home screaming.

Whenever someone would visit, which was rare, I would run and hide. I knew that it wasn't right to be naked in front of strangers, so I would run somewhere I felt safe, either to the horses, or if I wanted to see who it was, I would hide in my "bower", which was made of a couple of yopan bushes that had grown tall and thin, with few low branches, covered in white honeysuckle right next to my father's house.

I used to collect quarts crystals and pretty pieces of flint to make alters on a big piece of sandstone in the safety of my bower. 

Snakes and spiders were abundant on our land, but never once did I see one in my precious bower.

I appreciate how free my childhood was; I was homeschooled, naked, and left to play all day.

Freedom can come with a price; the price I payed was my family leaving the land without telling me, being alone often, and eventually turning to the one person who gave me attention whenever I wanted it, however unconventional. Peter was his name, who I returned to because he made me feel good and valued my opinion. I didn't understand that he was raping me, I always thought rape was violent and painful, he never hurt me physically or said any harsh words to me the entire time he lived out on our land. I was used to adults being impatient and quick to scream at me, so his company was a relief at first. Eventually, it got to where I would lie to my parents to go see him, saying I was going to get a glass of water or whatever other lame excuse a toddler could come up with. On top of him giving me attention whenever I wanted, my mother loved him, which made it even harder to convince myself to tell her what was going on. He told me not to tell, of course. And I knew what I was doing wasn't right, I felt guilty, like I had some say in it, I felt that it was consensual even though I was just three years old.

It took me three more pedophiles, from when I was age six to nine, and one man trying to kiss me in a dark alley when I was twelve to really understand what was going on.

Peter lived on our land for two years. I never told any of my family about what happened.

Childhood Dreams Die Hard

When I was little, I was always pretending to be an animal.

Usually I'd pretend to be a horse or unicorn, but sometimes I would be a cat, or a fairy.

I used to play a computer game called Barbie's Riding Stable, where you play as Barbie and get to ride four different horses around the game in first person.

I loved that game, and when I was out pretending to be a horse or riding my horse I would pretend I was in the game and say things to myself like "Let's go to Rabbit Run!" or quote some other repetitive shpeal Barbie would say in the game.

Even now, while playing video games where you get to ride horses like in Red Dead Redemption and Mo' Creatures mod for Minecraft, I still am reminded of galloping about in that 1990's computer game.

When pretending to be a horse, I would whinny, and squeal, hardly ever breaking character, which certainly didn't make me any friends, especially when I grew up and no one wanted to pretend to be an animal with me anymore.

What I always wanted and wished for was to become a horse, and what I thought would be the closest thing to that was to run with a herd of people, all pretending to be horses. I would eat wild plants my father had told me were edible, snort, toss my head and do my best at bounding around like a horse would. 

If I am alone in nature, I still do all of these things whenever possible. And I dream of the day when I can run with a herd.