HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Late, as usual. This is my resolution blog attempt and already I am starting off on my late foot. This is supposed to be my grown up blog. The one where I come out about drinking too much and figuring out all the skeletons in my closet and how they have affected me. Catholic guilt, private girls' school, growing up in the 70s...
My blog is named Bassackward because that is how my life has been. As the youngest of four to 2 very tired parents, I grew up fast and independent. Not that they weren't there, they were, but not really. I was the survival child; they had seen it all with the other kids and They all survived; surely so would I. I lived a secret life and experimented with everything. They caught a glimpse now and then, but nothing bad enough to shake them out of their "perfect private family" imagery. And I was happy to let them believe it.
Up until about 7th grade, life was pretty innocent. Oh, well, except for the alleged sexual assault by a babysitter's husband at 3 that I don't remember and attempted suicide by my sixteen year old brother at nine ( I found him) and the move to the city that I didn't want, then the move back after I began loving it. We came back and my boy craziness was full on, the beginning of my search for something I was missing that I sought through attention from boys and men and paid whatever the cost to get it.
Graduated from a fine all girls' school where I led a double life, went back to the city to my mom and sister's alma mater all girl college where I transferred from after a year. Tried another school close to home and dropped out after a semester for a...wait for it...man/boy. Went to work and partied hard, got engaged to the man/boy. Fortunately moved on after a couple of years.
Had a pretty good career going, met the One, again. We got married in a dream Catholic ceremony, worked and partied hard for three years during a tumultuous marriage and finally divorced. Met another man who I spent 7 years in and out of lust with, like an addiction. Worked hard and partied hard.
In my 35th year, I figured out I really didn't need a man to be happy, and I really was. Had a blast with good friends, excelled at my career, all by myself. And. guess. what? I met
The Old Soul. I think what they say is true; You have to be happy with yourself before someone else can be happy with you. We got married in my 38th year after a very full and lovely 3 years together. We just celebrated our 17th anniversary.
More to follow as the drama continues...
Happy New Year! Late.
Late, as usual. This is my resolution blog attempt and already I am starting off on my late foot. This is supposed to be my grown up blog. The one where I come out about drinking too much and figuring out all the skeletons in my closet and how they have affected me. Catholic guilt, private girls' school, growing up in the 70s...
My blog is named Bassackward because that is how my life has been. As the youngest of four to 2 very tired parents, I grew up fast and independent. Not that they weren't there, they were, but not really. I was the survival child; they had seen it all with the other kids and They all survived; surely so would I. I lived a secret life and experimented with everything. They caught a glimpse now and then, but nothing bad enough to shake them out of their "perfect private family" imagery. And I was happy to let them believe it.
Up until about 7th grade, life was pretty innocent. Oh, well, except for the alleged sexual assault by a babysitter's husband at 3 that I don't remember and attempted suicide by my sixteen year old brother at nine ( I found him) and the move to the city that I didn't want, then the move back after I began loving it. We came back and my boy craziness was full on, the beginning of my search for something I was missing that I sought through attention from boys and men and paid whatever the cost to get it.
Graduated from a fine all girls' school where I led a double life, went back to the city to my mom and sister's alma mater all girl college where I transferred from after a year. Tried another school close to home and dropped out after a semester for a...wait for it...man/boy. Went to work and partied hard, got engaged to the man/boy. Fortunately moved on after a couple of years.
Had a pretty good career going, met the One, again. We got married in a dream Catholic ceremony, worked and partied hard for three years during a tumultuous marriage and finally divorced. Met another man who I spent 7 years in and out of lust with, like an addiction. Worked hard and partied hard.
In my 35th year, I figured out I really didn't need a man to be happy, and I really was. Had a blast with good friends, excelled at my career, all by myself. And. guess. what? I met The Old Soul. I think what they say is true; You have to be happy with yourself before someone else can be happy with you. We got married in my 38th year after a very full and lovely 3 years together. We just celebrated our 17th anniversary.
More to follow as the drama continues...
Happy New Year! Late.
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