If you’d like to keep in touch, you can find me here – JesseBlayne.com.
I hope to see you there.
If you’d like to keep in touch, you can find me here – JesseBlayne.com.
I hope to see you there.
You know how they say everything happens in its own time for a reason.
This morning I woke like any other morning. My back was sore. That’s not new. I made good coffee, also not new.
I checked the emails and the sites and the comments. I read the smattering of news that I can stomach. I made another cup of coffee and greeted Jen and Will.
I considered finishing the 700 word post I’d written yesterday, but opted to do some stretches and listen to Esther Hicks, instead. I found a Hicks tape that talked about bodily pain, resistance, and dwelling on stuff instead of focusing on where I’m heading. I wondered if the post I’d written yesterday had anything to do with the increased pain in my back.
“I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this thing with your dad, but I’m still glad I married him.”
Jenny looked out the car window and said, “It’d be cool if they made some sort of selective amnesia drug. You know, cuz then you could pick and choose what you wanna remember and then forget the dad parts.”
“But a lot of the dad parts have you and your brother in them, and I don’t wanna forget those.”
“Yeah, I know.” Jen turned to look at me, “Well, you know I don’t mean it like, ‘Yeah, we’re awesome, you wouldn’t wanna forget us.'”
I laughed and said, “I know what you meant, honey. You didn’t mean it like a narcissist.” Continue reading →
*As told by the Spirit Guides, because I’ve got to believe they can see auras.
Jon pointed at a woman leaning against a tree. “Look at hers, Margaret. It’s pulsing with silver and turquoise. What does that mean?”
“If I’m not mistaken, Jon, that means she’s very intuitive and compassionate. She might be a healer of some sort. That one there,” Margaret pointed to a fellow who appeared to be angry with his phone, “his is bright yellow.”
Jon turned to look. “What does bright yellow mean?” Continue reading →
You don’t need to tell your kids. If you tell them now, and it takes a while, they’ll sound a lot like, “Mom? Is it today? Is it happening today? When? Mom, when is the change gonna happen?” You don’t need that kind of pressure.
Depending on the relationship you have with your BFF, you may want to wait to tell her. But … if you can’t tell her right away, she’s not the BFF you think she is.
I have no idea how to predict how a guy responds to anything, so whether you tell him, or not, is up to you.
I do know, though, that if you’re dealing with a narcissist, it’s better not to tell him or her at all. Make the change. See if they notice. If they bring up the change, then be prepared to discuss, or more accurately, listen. Continue reading →
Have you ever stood outside a narcissist’s man cave yelling at him that it’s time he helped with the laundry and took a turn at entertaining the kids, only to be told that that is woman’s work?
Have you stood in front of a narcissist, hands on your hips, telling him that you will no longer be ignored and that it’s time that your dreams were made a priority, too, only to hear him say, “But if you focus on my dreams, we’ll both be happy.”
Have you written the letter that says, “I’m done! I will not live like this anymore! For my sake, and for the good of this family, things have to change around this place,” and he responds with, “Geez, settle down. Did you forget to eat breakfast again?”
Has screaming, yelling and demanding attention ever worked with a narcissist? Continue reading →
“Yeah. I guess that’s right.”
He’s organizing his papers and looking at his new schedule. Many pieces have fallen into place to bring him to this point. It has been hectic around here. He’s starting this school sooner than we had expected, and we haven’t considered all the ramifications. I know it hasn’t occurred to him that we won’t be having dinner together. He’s the one who wanted to take his classes at night. He’s a night owl. This is perfect.
It’s dumb that I bring up the dinner thing, but it had just dawned on me. Dinner has always been a big deal to me. As much as I may not want to cook some nights, I love that time of the day when everything that can be done is done, and we can eat dinner and “hit relax mode.”
He zips up his backpack and says, “How are we going to do dinners?” Continue reading →
Three days into this new year and I’m still wincing. I’m apprehensive, unsteady, exhausted and excited – all at the same time. The holidays took over kicking my butt, where 2016 left off. I spent so much time talking about being glad 2016 was over, that I’m nervous about that energy following me into 2017. You know what they say, “Whatever you talk about, you attract.”
I read a “motivational” post the other day that pointed out that all that complaining about 2016 is misdirected. The writer went on to say that we ought to be reevaluating the choices made in 2016 that led to the messes, and make damn sure to point ourselves in a new direction.
That hurt a bit when I read that. So all that was my fault? Really? Don’t tell me to pull up my big girl pants. I hate that expression. As a single mom, I’ve been the one wearing the pants since day one.
Every month, people land on this blog with that search question.
Think of the narcissist as if he went about setting a mouse trap. You are the mouse.
Nice is giving the mouse a plump piece of cheddar cheese, all the while knowing that the goal is to catch/kill the mouse. The mouse can’t help herself. She loves the treat. No matter how many times she sees sharp cheddar on that wooden plate, she forgets that the plate is a trap. Once in awhile, she’s savvy enough to get the cheese off the plate, without getting caught. We all know, though, that the mouse isn’t always that lucky.
The narcissist is setting a trap when he is being nice. He hopes you will forget that he’s setting a trap. The cheese might be diamonds or dinners or promises of good behavior. He might set the trap with organic peanut butter, just to change things up a bit, but he’s still setting a trap. Continue reading →
She gets there as soon as the ice is free for open skating. She’s quick to tie her laces and get out there. This gives her time, even before the loud music starts, to skate a couple laps before the crowd starts filtering in.
I watch her glide. I can hear her blades every now and then. The sound brings us both to the moment. I notice thoughts of yesterday drifting from my brain. I assume they are headed for the car. My brain tries to coerce me into thinking about what to make for dinner. I ignore it. I feel my hand wanting to reach for my phone and I resist.
I imagine she has, by now, trained her mind to focus on what her legs and arms are doing. She’s graceful in the skating. Her arms are relaxed. Her face appears calm, with a hint of a smile – eyes trained ahead.
The quiet is blissful, even if for only a few precious minutes.
You were in 5th or 6th grade and I’d just gotten home from work. I was putting dinner together and asked, “How was your day, honey?”
“It was okay.”
“How was recess?”
“Recess was crazy. All the kids were chasing each other and running all over the playground.” Continue reading →
I was going to tell you that I’ve been working on removing barriers. I have noticed that good (thriving) feeling returning, and I planned to give you a secret for removing barriers that might keep you from thriving.
But that’s silly because one person’s barrier is another person’s bump in the road. I can only share my experience and hope it helps you in some way.
Creativity is a direct path to thriving. If we can stop the harmful self-talk and just make stuff, we’ll get to a better feeling place. The connection between creativity and thriving is undeniable. Thriving leads to creativity, and creativity leads to thriving. Get to one, and the other naturally follows. Continue reading →
The other night we were watching David Blaine on Netflix. I’m not into magic, but I was humoring Will. It was good, except my overthinking brain churns on trying to figure out the tricks. In one segment, Blaine approached a fellow and said, “Pick a card.” A Jack of Clubs popped into my head. Before I could say, “You guys, it’s a Jack of Clubs,” the fellow on the TV said, “Jack of Clubs.” I told the kids and they were less than surprised, because that stuff happens all the time around here.
We can’t turn on the car radio without one of them saying, “I woke up with that song on my mind, and there it is. They never play that one.” Or, “Hey, I was just thinking about so-and-so and they left a message on my voicemail.”
(Doesn’t mean I don’t love you if I don’t pick up when you call. INFJ, remember?)
Or Jen says, “Hey, we should go to Cafe Rio tonight,” and Will blurts out, “I was just gonna say that!” We do spend a lot of time together, but that doesn’t explain all of these incidences. We’re not reading each other’s minds just because we are always together. Besides, the older Will gets, the less I’m able to read his mind.
Intuition is a big deal to all three of us. It drives our passions. Intuition tells Will where the fishing will be better. Intuition guides Jen as she creates figures out of sculpey. As an INFJ, I’m hard-pressed to think of anything that can’t be enhanced, improved or avoided if I’ve been paying attention to my intuition. Continue reading →
Let’s be real. The only reason you’d read this if you aren’t an INFJ is because you are my mom or my aunt. We know that narcissists wouldn’t read this series, so we’ll rule them out.
If anyone other than an INFJ stumbled upon this series, they’d be saying, “What were you thinking? Why did you put up with that? Why didn’t you leave sooner? Hell! Why did you marry him to begin with? Maybe you are the one with the problems. YOU are the one with the issues. Why would you lose yourself in a relationship like that?”
To the INFJs reading this, I don’t need to explain. You know why I stayed as long as I did.
You, dear INFJ, are here to find some sort of compassion or understanding or an explanation. You want to know that you aren’t the only person (please stop calling yourself a fool) who would put up with so much bullshit. You want to believe that there are people out there who care about relationships as deeply as you do. Continue reading →
Six years ago, when on a road trip, we had stopped for treats and Will took a good 15 minutes to decide between types of beef jerky. (How different can they be?) Jen and I would have used the restroom, gotten our drinks and goodies, and stood by the car watching the sun setting while he was still trying to make a choice.
I remember thinking I’ve got to help that kid learn how to choose without worrying about making a mistake. He’d grown accustomed to having his choices doubted and questioned. He’d pick a blue t-shirt and his dad would say, “Why did you pick that color. You should pick green.” He would order a coke, and his dad would say, “No! You are having lemonade.”
Will had a history of making “bad” choices, as far as his dad was concerned, so any time he was faced with making a decision, he was paralyzed. Even if his dad wasn’t there.
Now, when Will drives up to a convenience store, he’s in and out faster than I am. And when it comes to making the big choices, like his first rifle or a pair of skis, he does his homework. He looks at reviews online. He asks for the opinions of others. He’ll search out a clerk at the store and pummel him with questions. When he feels confident with his choice – and he does – he proceeds.
It’s a beautiful thing to see. Continue reading →