Now she's gone... So is he...

A few weeks later, the post is back... Sorry for not posting for a while, busy life has being in the way making it difficult to write, especially when the inspiration isn't around. Can't force it... So welcome back! 


Have you ever dreamed of becoming famous? Be a wealthy lawyer? Have a pool in your home? Own a Ferrari? Dreamed of becoming the next best world dancer? Have a family with a dog? Own your own company? 

A dream? A simple dream?
I sure had lots of them as a kid, and despite obstacles that life threw at me, I still have them to this day. My mother always told me to believe in them, to do whatever it takes to make them a reality, to believe in myself, but sadly, I never truly thought I was capable of much. Even my teachers, on my school year report card, "B... needs to believe in herself a bit more. She is capable of a lot, but lack of self-confidence is making her be in the back more often than the front..." And I will pass on the details of what they all thought of me. Apparently, I was doing acceptable work, but since I was lacking such self-esteem, my teachers always had something to say on the subject. It never helped me, I always took it as a bad comment for myself. The more they said it, the more they had to comment on the view I had on myself, the more they made it seem like something was wrong with me, the less I was going to think good things about myself... I never grew out of this insane loop, the twist is the more they would talk about my low-self-esteem, the more I was going to have it. It never helped.
Not only I had to read comments from teachers, but my father never truly supported my decisions, supported my dreams... Supported me in general. One could say "He did, what are you talking about? When you were playing piano, he was forcing you, putting you down as soon as you made a slight mistake, he was pushing you to do better." Not sure if that would be supporting me. To me, it felt more like a "need to be better" than " if you want to be better". 

I can't argue with this, but you have to be in my shoes for just a second, and for that to happen, let me tell you a short story.
Once upon a time... 
Just kidding, I won't start with the most common beginning.
"I can hear the mistake you just made, start from the beginning!" My father would tell me when my finger slipped on the wrong note. Yes, it would happen, a slight slide towards another note would be fatal, but I was careful, and still learning so I had excuses. For my father, it was a whole different story! I started piano when I was young, feeling the keys under my fingertips, being in control of what I was playing was quite a nice feeling altogether. I was a fast learning, and my piano teacher saw the opportunity to write new piano sheets for me, between the pop rock and the unbearable indie, alternative songs that I would love to listen to, he had work to do. My piano teacher was an amazing pianist, and he always managed to write music sheets according to my level. I think he was one of those people who sent me higher, telling me I was talented and if I continued I would do much more. But life got in the way, and once again a dream was cut short. Today, I don't own a piano, but still play around on hard surfaces, having melodies playing in my head, melodies which I haven't played in years, but only with my fingers playing around. The ones I would enjoy singing along to as they were famous pop-rock songs from an old French band. Yes, even at a young age, I was fascinated with oldies. I was never one for lessons, but if I had the chance to play something I loved, I would go right ahead. Going to school for piano wasn't a desire, but I could have got the chance to go if I desired, but that again, is one more lost cause. The day I change my mind on something set, it will be snowing in Santa Barbara, and let's be honest, I don't see that coming soon.

To get back to the short story, my father made my life a living nightmare when it came to practising. He would force me, put me down whenever he had the chance to, and even if I was performing well, no applause,  no reactions just, "Continue" or "Start again". Talk about dictatorship... Playing piano was never a dream but it slowly became one. I dreamed of playing and owning my own grand piano, the long black ones. To play for hours even if I was awful at it, I would keep going. I lost a lot of my capacity over the years of non-playing. Each time I touch a piano, my mind goes directly to the bad comments that my father would say on each occasion.
Owning my own black long piano is a dream, and it could potentially happen, I'm not on my deathbed yet, I've got time, I hope I do, so I can make this dream come true..."

Dreams may sound like the wishes that are nearly impossible to do, to have, that's why they are called dreams. The things you wish you had, the things you could do, could say. The things that are in the back of your head, waiting for you to fall asleep to surface and send you to dreamland, the land of every possibility.

Tonight, my mother decided to message me, to tell me how she wants to see me happy even if that means not seeing me as much. As for the past few months now, I want to go to back to Europe, live there and not come back to the States. To finalise my stay back in Ireland where I belong. It's difficult when you don't belong in a country you don't understand others' life views. A country where half of the population is ignorant enough to make you think twice about why you started talking to them in the first place. Tough times, tough life, tough situations, it's only getting worse... The more I see and talk to people in Santa Barbara, the more I miss home, I miss Europe in general. 
Even though I live in California, my mind is elsewhere, somewhere where I feel like home, feel like I belong there without asking myself questions. And with this, I started developing a dream, a goal of a sort. Own my little pub where there'll be books to read in the back of the little pub, sort of like a tea shop/ library. Combining three of my favourites, tea, pub, and books. 

What my mother hasn't realised is my mind has set, and I won't change it, I will leave this country, this state and even if it doesn't make her happy, I know deep down, she'll understand. Not sure how I'll break the news to her, but I will... Somehow...

To conclude this post, if you have a dream, don't let anyone make you think twice about it. Just go for it, fight for it, believe in it and never give up because everything is possible if you set your mind to it. 
Dreams are here for reasons, to give you hope, faith in yourself. Just don't let yourself down, don't cut yourself short because an obstacle is in the way. You never know what may come around, because if you haven't succeeded it just means it's still on its way to you. A little more time is required, that's all. 

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." -Eleanor Roosevelt

~Bella

It's never too late to realize...

A couple of years ago, my whole perspective of life was different from now. You may think to yourself, "Well people mature up, develop, think differently over the years."
Not everyone will agree with this, but I do because my views on life have changed. I grew up in a couple of years...
Experiences, life events, issues that I had to cope with... They may change your mind on a few things, I know they did for me. 

Here's a little story, without too many details! 

Since I could remember, my relationship with my father hasn't been the best. He was always away at work and would come home during the weekend just to work in the garden or on the house. To be fairly honest, he wouldn't spend much time with me, a little more with my brother, though! Not something I minded since I had my mother, brother, and friends around. But then things started to become horrific, out of control after my mother talked about divorce. I don't think anyone will jump up and down, joyful nor excited about such a news. Yet, 'some respect is supposed to be socially acceptable. It didn't happen though. My father took it awfully badly which led to many terrible events and non-acceptable comments. To this day, my father hates my mother, despise to the point of making her sick, emotionally sick. Hating her with a passion even after rebuilding a new life with a new woman and a new child. 
I haven't talked or seen him for over 4 years now, quite a while to be fairly honest. Didn't occur to me to forgive him for what he had done, until just a couple of weeks ago. No, I'm still not ready to forgive him, I'm just ready to move on from him, from my own father. 
I'm finally accepting the fact that my dear father doesn't want anything to do with me. Accepting the fact that my father will never want to apologize for his past and recent actions, or will let see my half sister. Hopefully not never...
This said, even if I'm ready to move on, I'm far from believing I will ever be able to forgive my father's actions, sayings, behaviors. 
How can you forgive someone when that same person doesn't give you any explanations, no reasons behind their actions? 
I don't think anyone would be able to forgive my father, even if he was apologizing because saying, "sorry" hurts him too much. 
My father has a big mouth,  but when it comes to saying the right thing, he shut his mouth. No actions, nothing. It's sad but true! 

Moving forward means saying goodbye to the past and saying hello to the now. It's a new adventure that awaits you! Indeed it is scary as we do not know what the future holds, but remember that without today and a tomorrow, you get stuck in the past, the already written past, the one who is supposed to teach you a valuable lesson. 
My childhood isn't the greatest one, and I had to mature up faster than most kids, but at the end of the day, I'm still here, growing up every day. So you may feel like you are alone, but you aren't, many of us are just like you with difficult childhoods. My story may not have had such a happy beginning, but I will make sure to have a happy ending! Just like in Disney movies... 

"Confine yourself to the present." - Marcus Aurelius

~Bella

Little once, little forever...

I didn't know how to start this post, it is quite personal but people don't know half of what makes me, me... Not many will know what I had to go through at a young age and what I still have to deal with at my age. Yes, I'll be talking about ten year or more ago. Yes, it's going to be about me, but also how it may affect others as well. I know there's worse people than me who have to go through a lot more at a younger age. Everyone deals with situations differently, and this is how I've dealt with a few things. 

To make you understand a few things, I never really lived with my father as he worked the entire week, and would come back only on weekends. I never had a father at home like most of my peers from school, and I was alright with that. I still had my mother and brother with me! Second, my parents divorced when I was about ten years of age, leaving my brother being six. 
Children don't comprehend why their parents separate until the day one or both parents talk about the subject, calmly with plenty of explanation that the child will understand. It will be a stressful time for everyone, and many children react badly, abandonment, violence will be present, verbally or physically. Other kids will just be shut off, introverted, depressed, will ignore everyone and everything. And some will just live their life, leaving their parents to deal with the problem themselves. 

Now, most parents will talk in front of the children, and this will be the end of the beautiful, innocence that children have as they mature up quicker. It's a fault, but not talking, telling the truth doesn't help either. Kids need some reassurance, confidence, as well as space to process what's going on, and the parents need to be open minded to the possibility of responding to questions, without being evil about the other parent. 

My parents had violent fights as well as dishes being thrown, hits from my father to my mother, bloody hands, and yelling, lots of yelling especially from my father. Treats and revengeful words were thrown as well as death treats from my father to my mother. 
When you hear about guns and killing your mother, trust me, you will start being afraid of the consequence, the future, what your father is capable of doing. 
People don't understand why I don't trust men, why I have such a hard time being able to act "normally" around them and why I'm so distant at times. It's not a hatred against men, it's more a cautious side that shows up more often than what I anticipate. Imagine this...

You are about ten, you had your first kiss, you have a younger brother, you are finishing elementary school (In France, 6th grade is in junior high and not elementary). You play piano and teach your cat an easy song. You are a bookworm with earplugs almost all the time... Have amazing grades in literature and history, bad grades in math. You spend hours trying to fix issues with friends, listening to their problems as well as ignoring your own. Then one day, your mother decides to leave your father. That one doesn't take it slightly, making treats, being even more violent than he usually is, hits more than before, and yells all the time. You see, your mother sleep upstairs in the spare bed while your father is downstairs in the bedroom which happen to be below yours. You wake up suddenly in the middle of the night just to hear him cry or yell or making noises as he search wardrobes for whatever. 
This is just a passage as you leave a few months later to live in another city, another school, and you go see your father one or two weekends each month. You feel a little better, your mother explains why she left, but  you are living in fear that your father comes around to kill you and your mother, brother. Whenever you go back to his place, all he does is complain, breaks photo frame, shows you the blood that runs down his hand, even if he knows you can't see it because you either faint or throw up. He barely makes dinner so you are stuck doing it yourself, makes grocery shopping lists for the next day, you are stuck with telling your brother to go shower before dinner time. Putting your brother to bed and play with him. Stuck with the responsibility of dealing with a father that only cries, complains and pretends to be the good guy when it's the opposite. Stuck with the responsibility of protecting your brother by getting the hits yourself, by telling him to go back upstairs and lock the door in case something goes wrong...

How would you deal with all that? 
How would you feel about all this? 
How would you behave in this situation?
Would you still trust a man? Talk to your father? 

My mother helped me a lot, supported me, but I still felt alone, and I had to mature up quicker than everyone my age. None of my friends would understand and I barely talked because, let's be honest, it's embarrassing. It's like a woman who is dealing with domestic violence, will she speak up? Will she leave? Most the time, they are too scared to do that. So a ten years old girl isn't capable of much. 
I'm turning twenty-one in a couple months from now, and no, I've never really talked about it all to someone except a few things to some people who I thought would understand and listen. Sadly, people still manage to tell me that I have a problem, that I don't trust enough people, that I'm too honest, that I shut down quickly, I judge people too fast. After my teenage years, I had to deal with liars, manipulators, a father that rejected me, and you expect me to be all trusting? I don't think so.  You can't expect me to not trust my gusts when I'm usually right about someone. Over the years, I learned that not every man is the same, that some are actually lovable and sweet, the opposite of my father. But, still, do not expect me to trust you, to not be cold at first, and behave differently than I am. 

Traumas don't go away, they stay, heal over time, but they stay. Just like you forgive, but never forget! In my case, I won't be able to forgive a man that insulting me, hit me, proved that I was nothing to him for years, that doesn't try to explain or apologize for his action! Before you judge the way I am, try and comprehend why I became the way I am today. Instead of putting me down by insulting me, my behavior, or telling me to change, try and listen to my story. 
Everyone doesn't get the chance to have a happy childhood, joyful teenage years, being the little princess or prince. Some have to deal with screams, violence, and others. We may be strong, we may strive and let the past be the past, move on, but the trauma is still here, it may affect us in a way that we cannot always control!

"It's not the future that you're afraid of. It's repeating the past that makes you anxious. "

~Bella