#greatpretender – Quillan Kelly-Dunn

#doitanyway, #freedom, #greatpretender, #teens, Anxiety, Badassery, coming of age, Find A Way, Health & Wellness, Mental Health, parenting struggles, relationships, Trauma, under pressure

When the Levy Breaks

February 12, 2024February 15, 2024 quillankellydunn

Have you ever had a vivid memory of an experience from decades ago come flooding back to you out of nowhere?

I had this memory tsunami happen to me yesterday.

I have been doing this Meditation challenge since the beginning of 2024. This app was referred to me by my brilliant colleague. (Links below).

Yesterday morning, I completed session four of the “Taming Anxiety” challenge. The topic was about cognitive distortions.

I haven’t thought about my own battle with cognitive distortions since college.

Feeling compelled to share my experience in case anyone is feeling stuck or discouraged. I could’ve used the information below way earlier.

This life-altering moment occurred when I met with the school counselor about my schedule. Apparently, something I said was a red flag to the counselor that I was struggling with anxiety.

Thankfully, she did not use the word “anxiety” at the time. Unlike now, that uncommon, scary word and its symptoms were foreign back in the 90’s.

The counselor handed me a paper describing cognitive distortions (CD). I distinctly remember reading these, with my eyes bulging out of my head. I was in utter shock that this wasn’t a “normal” way to think.

As a student, I was able to start seeing her weekly for free. If it wasn’t free, I would have never gone through with it. I needed to save my money for nickel beer night. (A non-clinical, absurd cognitive distortion. 😏)

Each week, I discussed all of the stupid, irrational, and impulsive behaviors I did while operating in a perpetually, anxious state-of-mind.

It took a tremendous amount of effort to retrain my brain, unlearn old ways and reframe the CD. I truly believed I would NEVER be able to stop them.

I kept showing up even though I dreaded it and was uncomfortable.

By going to counseling & actively participating, I inadvertently leaned toward anxiety and its clutches.

Then an emotion showed up…humiliation aka cringe.

All I can say is thank effing gawd there were no cell phones or social media back then.

I experienced all of these:

After about 20 sessions, the counselor subtly addressed my lifestyle and inquired about how I have been coping with these tricky little fuckers.

The counselor then pointed out that contrary to popular belief, alcohol will only temporarily help. “Alcohol and marijuana are like a band-aid, and they make anxiety worse if using them to “self-medicate”. They may also cause paranoia.”

Every single one of those pesky, mind-fucking, cognitive distortions were on blast all-of-the-time. Ironically, they were present before, but I did not notice because I was detached from myself.

Suddenly, when I got in-tune with my body & mind, I felt paralyzed with anxiety. I froze, couldn’t make decisions, and just stopped everything.

Which led to…

I was terrified that I would have a panic attack in public. Panic attacks are real & scary AF.

I was very confused that I felt worse in therapy. The counselor gently reminded me that “Things get worse before they get better, it is always darkest before the dawn.” I let go & trusted the process.

Once I accepted it…I became consumed with talking about anxiety and explaining myself to everybody.

Side effect of untreated trauma+anxiety=lack of boundaries…

Thankfully, I had a very, wise friend, who could see the big picture. She said something profound to me like this:

Engaging with a friend who “gets you” without judgement, makes a monumental difference.

With time, patience, and lifestyle changes, this way of thinking extinguished itself. Of course this anxiety got “canceled” by utilizing a combination of counseling, mindfulness, physical exercise, limiting caffeine/sugar/alcohol, spending time outside often, taking vitamins, journaling, yoga/pilates, mindfulness, medication and most importantly, in-person human connection.

Looking back, it appeared to be absolutely impossible to overcome.

Now it seems like no big deal. I had to feel it, do the emotional work and allow it to pass.

I am glad that there is less stigma & more awareness about mental health and anxiety, currently.

However, it should not be used as an excuse to give up. No one IS their diagnosis. The more you avoid, numb, or hide from it, the longer it takes. Running from it only prolongs the process. The process can be conquered with the proper guidance, effort, & dedication.

In 1998, there was no other option in my outlook, except to keep trying. It was also way easier to unplug and detach back in the olden days.

How terrifying for gen z, teenagers & children right now? The social pressure, “cancel culture”, picture-perfect-life-posting and the “it’s-too-hard-I-give-up” mindset is disheartening.

Humans have survived thousands of years before iPhones, social media and the internet.

Reminder: Humans are resilient.

The epiphany empowered me today to push my teens to face uncomfortable emotions that sting.

Pain teaches you something.

Nothing ever grows in a comfort zone.

It’s a constant effort to remind myself of what is considered a big deal to my kids.

Social connection is getting worse, not better. Therefore, it is never too early to start healthy coping strategies. I mean, if nine-year-olds are spending $900 at Sephora on anti-aging skin regimens, then it wouldn’t hurt for a child/teen to unplug their mind for 15 minutes a day.

What I really like about this app is it makes the decision for you. It is like a parent that perhaps all adults need sometimes. “This is what is on the agenda today, do it and stfu.” It has a calendar that keeps track of your progress. Lastly, the founder, Dan Harris, describes how he had a panic attack on national television.

Any generation could understand how mortifying that had to be.

He recovered.

He wrote a book and is now helping others.

https://app.tenpercent.com/link/download

https://open.spotify.com/episode/5NgnSCyzVkaVfgDwzFevtf?si=TU-6WTk5Q8yjLBwYHy7GPg

https://markmanson.net/podcast/david-brooks

https://a.co/d/9WpMZ9K

*If numb & detached, you can’t feel love*

Since I published this, I completed this 7 out 10 day challenge. I don’t know why but this little badge made me feel a slight bit of accomplishment.

#Beyourself, #brenebrown, #doitanyway, #freedom, #greatpretender, #opportunity, brene brown, coming of age, Grief, Health & Wellness, Mental Health, PTSD, unlockingus, vulnerability

Cruel Summer

July 21, 2023July 21, 2023 quillankellydunn

This is a revised re-post. It’s was a therapeutic, free association that is too difficult for me to shorten…

September 8, 2020…When I saw that “Cobra Kai” was the #1 watched series on Netflix, my mouth dropped open. I started trembling. I assume this reaction was due to a level of euphoria that I have not been able to publicly get in touch with since 1986. It was an intoxicating feeling of true belonging, like “I am not that big of a weirdo” after all. Other people in this world are clearly are obsessed with Karate Kid as well.

My siblings and I can quote The Karate Kid pretty much word for word. I’m sure people who have witnessed us in “Karate Kid (“KK quote mode”) must have thought, “Jeez, how many times have you watched this.” Daniel Larusso’s self-righteous anger & Johnny Lawrence with his gleaming, blonde, visor haircut never gets old.

“Belonging is the innate human desire to be part of something larger than us. Because this yearning is so primal, we often try to acquire it by fitting in and by seeking approval.”

Brené Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection

Over the years, there has been brief moments where I’ve had the courage to be my authentic-KK-loving self. This was usually brought on, subconsciously, by enough alcohol that could kill a small child. Some may get white girl wasted, but I prefer to say Mr. Miyagi wasted.

This first incident was released by liquid courage, not true courage. I was 21ish, enjoying the last few hours of the weekend at Reilly’s Daughter. As Cruel Summer by Banana Rama began blaring, one of my sloppy, drunk, guy friends slurred these words to me “Hey! The Karate Kid song!” Omg. Suddenly, there was something there between us that wasn’t there before.

As he was clumsily swaying back and forth to the song, holding a pitcher of Lemovox in one hand, a full cup with a cigarette in the other; he stepped out of the friend zone and he became strangely attractive. I was captivated by his lack of rhythm and impeccable hand-eye coordination. I was entranced and ready to make out with him in the middle of the bar; kinda like how Daniel nearly swallowed Ali at Golf ‘n Stuff.

By the grace of God, he slipped and wiped out on the perpetually sticky and damp, bar floor. The pitcher of lemovox spilled all over his clothes, hair and eyes. He stumbled to get up, screeching that the cheap, acidic combo was burning his eyes.

The laughter of all the guys combined with his fall, broke the lemovox induced spell.

Where am I? Perhaps I should re-think this?

Anyways, it was a close call. This was my first indication that my private obsession with Karate Kid could potentially become a big problem. If I acted on my irrational impulses, it would have been, literally, a cruel summer for me. My friends would’ve ripped me apart for the next six months; perhaps years. I made sure to keep this side of me repressed in the future.

The second time, the obsession re-surfaced during an emotionally vulnerable time. I was married for two years and had my first baby. The newness of having a newborn had run its course. The financial pressure of adulting with a mortgage and unpaid maternity leave left me no choice but to be back at work in 10 weeks.

I had just stopped breastfeeding/pumping and the hormonal-fluctuations resulted in giant eruptions on my chin. My body…that awful in-between phase of maternity clothes and regular clothes. Nothing fit right and I felt uncomfortable, bloated, and fugly. My wardrobe consisted of stained tops and a choice of either cameltoe khakis or muffin-top black pants. I wanted to hide.

All this combined with running on 3 hours of sleep and the fluorescent lighting of the emergency room where I worked; left me feeling real attractive.

To make matters worse, my husband and I were working opposite schedules to be home with our son. We slowly became disconnected, sleep-deprived roommates.

Meanwhile, a single, energetic, childless guy started training in our department who was extremely witty and funny. I was shadowing this guy to make sure he was performing the psychological assessments correct. The patient we were evaluating lived in Reseda, Illinois. The guy says to me:

“I never heard of Reseda Illinois. I thought it was in LA. I only know that because of Karate Kid. “Oh you have a date? With whoommm? Not that boy from Reseda.”

My eyes widened and without thinking I replied, “Yeah Dad, he’s from Reseda.” Then I nervously laughed, blushed, & started to sweat.

“Yea whoop dee do. You want me to do cartwheels or something?”

Suddenly, my KK repressed self was unleashed. I could not stop. I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed like this or felt so alive. We continued this banter the rest of the evening; driving my other co-workers nuts. Walking to my car that night, physically exhausted, but mentally, I am was in the best mood. I felt like “me” again.

At the time, I thought he put me in the best mood, but in reality, he just made me feel comfortable to be myself without pretending.

Sometimes joking isn’t about making fun of someone, it’s about making fun of a situation to disconnect ourselves from whatever uncomfortable emotion it creates in us.

Brené Brown
Braving the Wilderness

This guy had the ability to connect with anyone, he had everyone laughing. However, I started getting jealous, wanting his attention. (Don’t judge me, when you’re dying of thirst in the desert, you don’t care who gives you the water.)

However, since I had not felt this type of connection in so long, I continued to make awkward attempts to keep it alive. Thankfully I got the hint eventually and knocked it off.

In hindsight, I did not recognize how disconnected I was from myself, my values and my pain. This having-babies-rite-of passage is a huge adjustment. The more I tried to “pretend” I had it all together to avoid feeling the shame; the more I kept myself in this vicious cycle. Kinda like Daniel LaRusso, who likes to blame the school, his bike, his mom, and moving to LA on his current situation.

Most recently, this movie came up again last year when my son went on his first date. At the time, I didn’t realize it was a first date because my son kept saying they were “just friends”. When I picked her up, I witnessed how the two of them were interacting… Unfortunately, this revelation unfolded in slow motion in my brain; …omg my son is…a GUY.

Flashbacks of my son and I holding hands, snuggling on the couch began to flash before my eyes. My little boy is gone. In the middle of this bittersweet epiphany, the girl’s dad came to the car door to meet me. I behaved like a complete fool, a total awkward nerd. I turned into Lucille LaRusso and I had no control.

Lucille was a damn good mom.

Anyways, I have accepted my siblings and myself are weirdos. I love this about us.

In our defense, we have a good reason. Our memorization of KK wasn’t a typical situation. The Karate Kid was part of our daily routine.

You see, our brother, was non-verbal and wheelchair bound. After he got home from school, there was not much he could do but watch or listen to TV. So this movie was playing continuously in the background. My youngest sister would sit in her playpen eating melba toast and my brother would lay on floor and they would watch this movie (and The Muppets) together almost everyday. It was so cute that we would sit with both of them and watch it, again.

Despite our age difference, this movie connected all of us.

In spite of my brother’s limitations, his stellar personality and sense of humor shined through. Our brother, Johnny, would have this smirk on his face while watching KK.

Over time, we noticed a pattern in what Johnny found the funniest. He laughed the hardest when people were loud, yelling, angry or sniffling/crying. When I say laugh, I mean he displayed that shaking-silent-laughing-so-hard giggle.

One time I was crying about some nonsense, sniffling. My brother erupted with the laughing. I wanted to tell him to shut up, which is funny in itself. I stopped crying and started laughing too. This was the first time I recognized the irony of his reactions. There seemed to be a deeper, non-verbal message he was trying to communicate.

“I’m laying here on the floor, I can’t walk, talk or feed myself. What the hell are you crying for? Get some real problems”. -Johnny Durnell

Johnny passed away from respiratory failure on July 21, 1999 at the age of twenty.

I suppose repressing The Karate Kid is also like repressing the grief and all the uncomfortable emotions that go along with grief. Guilt, anger, despair, resentment, etc. feelings I don’t want to feel.

Trust your gut Johnny, ignoring those feelings. will only hurt you in the end

What these three examples have taught me is that the story I told myself kept me stuck. How repressing these emotions can result in HUGE mistakes if caught in an irrational, raw, vulnerable place.

The most difficult part of our stories is often what we bring to them—what we make up about who we are and how we are perceived by others. Yes, maybe we failed or screwed up, but what makes that story so painful is what we tell ourselves about our own self-worth and value.

Brene Brown

Thinking or talking about The Karate Kid makes me think of my brother, my childhood, and what this movie triggers inside me. It brings me joy, but it makes me feel pain in my heart. This movie unleashes a floodgate of all emotions.

If I want to feel, I have to feel it all. You can’t “show up” and “hide” at the same time.

Alcohol is a slippery slope, especially with trying hard to numb & repress grief. It is a band-aid that works at first, then it just makes it worse. Sleep deprivation, hormones, poor self-worth, disconnection contribute to an irrational & vulnerable state of mind. My coworker caught me at a weak moment emotionally and unknowingly made me feel safe by bringing up this movie. The connection felt euphoric because I blocked my story for so long.

If you won’t allow yourself to feel the sadness, anger, shame, grief and pain; you will also deny yourself the feelings of love, joy, growth and happiness.

Owning our stories means acknowledging our feelings and wrestling with the hard emotions—our fear, anger, aggression, shame, and blame. This isn’t easy, but the alternative—denying our stories and disengaging from emotion—means choosing to live our entire lives in the dark. It means no accountability, no learning, no growth.

Brene Brown

Doubling Down on Love

https://ideas.ted.com/finding-our-way-to-true-belonging/

quillankellydunn | September 8, 2020 at 8:17 am | Categories: #freedom | URL: https://wp.me/p9zGxM-iu Comment See all comments Like

#Beyourself, #freedom, #greatpretender, #millenials, #opportunity, #simonsinek, Badassery, Find A Way, gun control, Hamilton, Lin Manuel Miranda, march for our lives, unlockingus, Women's Fight

BLUE is the new BLACK

January 16, 2021January 16, 2025 quillankellydunn

During my time as an ER crisis worker, I was written up at least once a year for accumulated tardies.

I have also been put on levels for mistakes I made.

I am one of two individuals in the history of my department that was on a “level”. (Level three is termination.) How unfair right!?

Back story: When I first started, I got so mad about a PTO policy that changed; I impulsively went straight to the CEO. 🙈😬 Soon after, I began to receive levels for “minor” mistakes.

Upon receiving this level, I went into full-on JED mode (justify, explain, defend) a.k.a JJM (JOLIET JAKE MODE) to my boss.

I was FURIOUS at her audacity because I had stayed late the night before!

HOW DARE SHE!?

How dare THEY!!!”

I then exclaimed, “It was 7:01! Can’t you let this slide?” (What about the other six late clock-ins? 🤔)

I pissed and moaned about it to my coworkers.

One day, a nurse in another department candidly told me “I’ve been on a level before. You know what? It’s just to help you learn. It’s not like a jail sentence.”

When I stopped blaming, I was able to see clearly what I did wrong and how I need to change. I DESERVED the LEVEL.

This level was about a choice I made.

This level was about a mistake I made.

My justification that it’s “no big deal” or my valid reasons for committing this violation does not matter.

It is a rule, policy, procedure etc. and I broke it. PERIOD.

I needed to THINK.

OWN IT. Learn from it. Accept. Admit. I.was.wrong.

I needed to feel the pain and shame of the consequences in order to change.

I preferred to “get in trouble” individually than have my whole team suffer for my mistake, my ignorance, and my stupidity.

Just as I HATED it when I was a kid and we lost recess because of the one asshole who wouldn’t stop talking. I never wanted to be that kid.

I didn’t want to be that coworker.

This “dumb” rule and it’s “unfair” consequences is to prevent much bigger mistakes from occurring in the future.

I attended a mandatory re-training, with clear concise examples and the consequences if not followed-ahead of time. Also annual trainings to keep this fresh in our mind.

Oh and remember how I went straight to the CEO when I wanted to have a tantrum about what I didn’t like? I learned to follow the chain of command. It is there for a reason. I get it…now. If I didn’t make those mistakes, perhaps I wouldn’t have.

Do I deserve to lose my pension because I made some bad choices?

Should my entire department lose their pension because of my mistake?

Speaking of losing pensions, here is another authoritative tale where I believed I was right…This is in regards to the countless tickets I have received for speeding, failure to come to a complete stop at a red light prior to turning right, and blowing red lights.

After my violation, I would respectfully hand over my insurance card and license to the police officer with a sweet, innocent smile. Sometimes, in a vain attempt to get out of the ticket, I may have flirted a little.

This manipulative behavior on my part would be dismissed with a “nice try” nod or a wink as if to acknowledge the effort. Then the police officer did their job by handing me the ticket.

Later, while attending court to fight this outlandish claim: I smiled, apologized and respectfully presented my case.

After all, I had VALID reasons why!!!

However, deep down I knew the truth.

I wasn’t truly sorry….I was sorry because I got caught. Perhaps this ONE time I may have been right; but what about was 27 other times I made the same mistake and didn’t get caught.

I was only sorry for my behavior because it hit me where it hurt. 💰 💴 ⏰ I could not afford the consequences.

Therefore, I was not GENUINELY sorry, but feeling sorry for myself.

After my presentation at court, you know what the police officer or judge would reply 97% of the time? Something like:

“You weren’t even close.”😂😎

I didn’t get out of it.

I didn’t have a tantrum. I didn’t persuade anyone in powerful positions that “I know” to get me out of it.

I was stuck with the consequences as I should be.

I paid the $200 fine. I went to traffic school. I drove more cautiously to avoid future infractions. I learned to stop the behavior.

Should I have gotten a lower fine because I’m a woman?

Should I have gotten a lower fine because women earn less than men?

Would a man have gotten out of this?

Was I just pulled over because I am a female?

Was I written up because I am a female?

I don’t know all the answers but I’m leaning toward a hard NO. My point is, we are all humans and make mistakes. I can at least own my part. Shouldn’t we all?

Some make worse mistakes than others and those individuals need to receive their appropriate consequences.

We still ALL EQUALLY need consequences to continue to learn and function in society. Yes, of course there are racist and sexist people in this world; but there are many more who are not.

What happened to accountability?

I knew the rules and I still chose to break them.

I am aware if I commit a serious crime, I go to jail. No getting out of it. I respect my freedom so I obey the law. (See below for Chris Rock- obey the law skit)

I DO NOT deserve special treatment because I am a woman.

I SHOULD NOT be let off easy because I’m really, really good looking 😜(Zoolander). (See halo effect)

People should not get out of consequences because they have alot of money. EVERYONE should have the same punishment for the crime.

That is the BOTTOM LINE.

There are NO excuses.

There are no valid reasons.

I should receive consequences and re-training.

It never even OCCURRED to me to argue with police or judges.

Perhaps some would call this an example of “white privilege.”

I call it RESPECT FOR AUTHORITY.

I call it RESPECT for our COUNTRY.

I call it RESPECT for the RULES.

I call it respect for those HUMAN BEINGS who are doing their extremely difficult job to enforce the rules.

I don’t know about you, but I NEED rules.

I need authority.

I’m not sure when all this ENABLING started, but it has to stop.

In a time, not too long ago, we used be like this:

A time when people laughed instead of being offended about everything.

How can we get back to this? Where we laughed and celebrated our differences? When we could joke and laugh about our stereotypes.

How can we move forward from today and stop being so divided? In the end, we are all equal human beings, aren’t we?

Perhaps making everyone read this book below as a mandatory part of being a United States Citizen would help us remember.

Talking to Strangers: What We Should Know about the People We Don’t Know https://www.amazon.com/dp/0316478520/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_glc_fabc_3j2aGb1RGFC5V

Regardless of what any of us think of our previous president, he is human too. One person cannot be held responsible for everything. There is a LONG chain of command that is also accountable. We NEED Many LEADERS! Like thousands!

#brenebrown, #doitanyway, #freedom, #greatpretender, #homeschoolingrealshit, #millenials, #opportunity, #sidehustle, Badassery, brene brown, glennondoyle, Health & Wellness, Lin Manuel Miranda, narcissism, narcisstic personality disorder, parenting struggles, relationships, unlockingus, vulnerability, Women's Fight, Yoga Pants

Sympathy For The Devil

November 23, 2020January 16, 2025 quillankellydunn

I may not KNOW a lot of things but one thing I do believe for sure is that BOB (Esai Morales) from La Bamba is one BADASS mother fucker. He has to be THEE coolest and most captivating actor on the planet.

He should have won an OSCAR for best supporting actor for his performance; (Esai Morales) truly MADE the movie.

He literally SEDUCES the audience.

That being said, what I find most ironic is that no matter what he did or said, I still liked his character. I thought he was hilarious, I still do. What is even more puzzling, is that he is a complete dick.

(Side note: Esai also appeared on Ozark for a season or two- I was immediately entranced. )

As a woman, I completely identify with Rosie. As a mother and wife, I empathize with how she feels; I hate how she is treated by Bob. What was also puzzling is that she ANNOYED me. 🙈

I can actually feel her pain, grief, & confusion. You can see it written on her face. The “wait…wtf-just-happened?” face. The “how-in-the-hell-did-I-end-up-here” face. She displays this facial expression the majority of the movie. We all know that face.

We all know that feeling: When you realize you’ve been had. You got screwed over. The worst part about it, the majority of it was your own doing. You assumed. ASS-U-ME.

I get how she assumed as well. Any woman in a could easily fall into Bob’s trap; especially the married ones. Bob’s seductive allure could have wise woman entranced in his spell: After Bob flirts with you: Huh? What kids? What husband? You don’t have a job you say? Ballsy. Hot…You drink every day? Wild & crazy. You live in your mom’s trailer? Sounds cozy. Humina Humina 😍🥰😛

I am embarrassed to admit this, but I remember thinking: Awwww just leave him alone Rosie.. it’s your own fault you got yo self knocked up…

I STILL liked him after that horrible, disrespectful and honest statement by Bob. Like “Dayyyuuumm.” Why?

I am an educated & wise woman, yet I still like Bob. Wtf!? How come? 1. Clearly excellent acting by Esai Morales 2. Amazing directing

However, I am not satisfied with this. Inquiring minds want to know!!!

I was concerned with my reaction when I watching this movie recently. When the mother, Connie Valenzuela, minimized Bob’s cartoonist abilities and reminded him that he is about to become a father, I thought: Jeez Connie, buzzkill, what did you have to go and do that for!? Why don’t you get out of Richie’s ass and pay attention to poor Bob. He is trying. POOR BOB

Poor Bob: your womanizing, chauvinistic, selfish, entitled, immature, unemployed, alcoholic, manipulative, man-baby-son who just was released from prison.🤔 (Bob sounds like a real catch on paper doesn’t he?🤥😂)

Idle hands are the devil’s workshop; idle lips are his mouthpiece.Proverbs 16

From a biological & genetic standpoint, Bob does what Bob does best. Bob is a an alpha male who is genetically predisposed to flock his sexy shit to attract females. Bob does whatever possible to get laid; ultimately procreating more human beings to populate the earth. (Biology 101: It is vital for males to compete for reproduction and for females to choose between those competing males.

If a member of the opposite sex finds your tail, your song, or your dance moves sexy, you will have a chance to fulfill your primary biological role as a member of your species: to reproduce.
https://biogeoplanet.com/how-do-animals-find-mates-sex-and-sexual-selection/

This is “Bob’s” “primary biological role” aka his job and he rocks it. He got Rosie pregnant so now he needs to “move on” and to do this again.

It’s not his fault…yet. (Please don’t get angry, hear me out;)

From a biological/genetic standpoint, Bob is doing his job. He behaves how all male animals act. Bob is genetically predisposed to be what humans would consider “an asshole”.

The problem is, he also doesn’t know any better. No one has taught him otherwise. No one has had the chance to teach Bob to step above his biological urges.

Please don’t cause him to feel inadequate by making him have to THINK.

Don’t make him feel like a failure by asking him to have COMPASSION or EMPATHY? That is NO FUN.

What would cause a human being to behave this way? Or to treat women this way?

Bob’s True Story & my psychological interpretation😜:

Just like Rosie, Connie also hooked up with a bad boy at a young age and got herself impregnated. The hot, sexy biological father took off.

I know you “love him” Rosie, but unless you want to cook dinner on his motorcycle…

Connie then met someone else (Steve) and Connie married Steve when Bob was two years old. Steve loved Bob and treated him as his own. Steve and Connie then had a child together, Ritchie. Ritchie was a reflection to Connie what she did right=Ritchie=golden boy. However, Bob was a reminder of her bad decisions.

Connie, Steve, Bob & Ritchie were doing well together for a while. Bob assumed Steve was his biological father and Bob loved him.

In an interview, the real Bob Morales states his life took a bad turn when he was 14 and his parents (Connie & Steve) separated.

“I moved in with my mom while Ritchie went with my dad. One day I told my mom that I wanted to live with my dad and and that’s when my aunt told me ‘Why do you want to go with him if he’s not even your real father.’Bob Morales

Despite Steve conveying to Bob that he loved him as his own son, the shock devastated Bob. Also, it was horrible timing for Bob to find this out because soon after this discovery, Bob began high school.

Bob was getting into fights frequently so he stopped attending. Instead he gave money to the homeless nearby who would buy him alcohol.

While his now single-mom was working two jobs, Bob was not going to school and had no structure all day, no guidance, no direction=idle time which is the DEVIL’s playground.

Therefore, Bob ended up going to a detention center from age 12-17! Connie, his mother, signed him over as a ward of the state. He did not see his family that entire time he was locked up.

👆🏻Bob’s inner child translation: Go Fuck yourself Connie. I will never let a woman hurt me again.

The first time Bob saw his mother or Ritchie in years; was the day of Steve’s funeral. Which also means he didn’t get to say goodbye to Steve or to grieve properly.

Bob learned to adapt to his lonely life by becoming the life of the party. He learned how to get what he needed by finding comfort in women and selfishly move on. This probably soothed his resentment toward his mother for while, but then he felt guilty; so he drank the pain away.

Of course he was jealous of Ritchie. Ritchie got his Dad and his Mom. He got nobody.

The point is that all of US are capable of evil depending on what we are exposed to.

I thought of this blog when I was about to bitch at my son for not cleaning up the mess he made after making quesadillas. I realized that I can’t assume he knows how. I’m not going to shame him like Connie. (Wtf is wrong with you? Think like a woman) Instead, I showed him how clean it up. I EDUCATED him on what I want. I told him that this is what I expect. I didn’t talk to him like he was stupid. I thanked him for making his own food. I didn’t clean it up for him. This is the only way they learn.

Mothers: We cannot assume that our sons are just going to know how to treat women when they’re older. We cannot assume that their Dad’s are going to teach them either. Most Dads are working their ass off and are never home. (Probably chasing tail 😂 not knowing why. Kidding!🤪)

We have to teach OUR SONS what WE want from them so they can learn how to GIVE this to their future partners. We need to teach them about affection, connection, friendship, compatibility, respect, and the long term.

We have to teach them that this may be a biological urge to continue to chase women and populate the world, HOWEVER, we are not animals. Reality: kids are expensive AF.

It costs a lot of time, money, energy to raise a human child properly into a respectable adult.

We need to teach them that human females can be hot and smart. Women can be attractive, fun, brilliant, and confident. We have to teach them, not ASSUME, that a Human FEMALE’S purpose is not only to populate the world.

It’s Biology Rosie- I’m kidding!
You can have both!

We also have to teach our daughters: What they tolerate will become their future. Being a victim will not get you anywhere.

It’s OUR job to ALSO teach the FUTURE MEN of this world these skills. We need to teach them how to love unconditionally. Parents need to be a TEAM.

There is a chapter in this book on how we “go easy” on our sons because we don’t think they can manage it all and are tougher on our daughters 🙈

https://markmanson.net/love

https://markmanson.net/compatibility-and-chemistry

#markmanson

#ericthomas

#glennondoyle

#brenebrown, #doitanyway, #freedom, #greatpretender, Badassery, Find A Way, parenting struggles, relationships, unlockingus, Women's Fight

True Romance…

September 4, 2020January 13, 2025 quillankellydunn

When I win my Oscar for best screenplay and give my speech; I would love to say “and last of all, I’d like to thank my husband for not giving a shit.”

Despite how it sounds, I mean this in a good way. By his “not giving a shit” or being “too tired right now” is actually helpful. My anger at him forces me to figure it out myself.

When I do, my self-esteem sky rockets. I am no longer mad at him because I am too empowered; but not in a self-righteous kind of way. Like in a “men and women are equal” way.

In the heat of a debate. We Both stubborn AF

Whenever I ask my husband for help, it is like an imaginary tennis match. He takes his pretend racket (tongue-on-roof-of-mouth-click-sound effect) and he just hits that request right back to me. My rebuttal (tongue-click) back to him. The longer I debate, the longer the match. Kinda like this: https://www.instagram.com/p/B-e3V7MDtMi/?igshid=z3swsvcatt03

I hate asking for help and I’m not a damsel-in-distress type of chic. I do not need or want to be taken care of or to be saved. (It does feel nice to think about it, perhaps my stubborn pride gets in the way.) When he does offer suggestions or the “right” way of doing things; he is met with a straight up tirade of obscenities from me. Therefore, deep down, I really do not want help.

Or…I would rather do it myself than deal with this:👇🏻

My husband after getting rid of yellow jacket nest 👆🏻

My old man is the most tired man in America; he works three jobs; so it’s understandable why he is exhausted. However, it was kinda weird that he was able to stay up through rain delays until 1:45am when the Cubs won the World Series. Miraculously, he was still able to get up for work at 5am the next day. But…that’s another story…😂

Anyways, I get that he’s tired; which is why I cannot expect much from him. They say having no expectations leaves you pleasantly surprised right? My expectations are so low it’s kinda like when someone goes out for a pack of cigarettes and doesn’t come back. 😜 When show back up, you are pleasantly surprised.

So I live my life expecting him not to come back, but he keeps showing back up to sleep, eat and watch sports here so now what? 😜

I work full time as well and handle everything at home with kids such as an being an Unpaid Uber driver, bank teller, chef, grocery shopper , scheduler, drama processor… I’m TIRED!….

I know that he knows it’s difficult at home and more difficult than what he does because my situation is unpredictable. He will never admit it. Raising kids/teens is not black and white how he prefers. I hate things that are black and white except movies. Being at home with kids plus working is all mutha-effin gray. You never know what you’re going to get.

Anyways, back to our most recent endeavor. About a month ago, our washing machine stopped working. It’s a LG High Efficiency washer, equipped with smart diagnosis. This means that I can connect my IPhone to the washer and it can diagnose what’s wrong. My washer continued to display “IE”. He has an Android, I have an iPhone which probably contributed to his feelings of inadequacy. 😂

For every insult, there’s a counter insult.
No one ever wins. 😉

In the manual, “IE” means that you have to clean out the water inlet valve, the Manual says to clean inlet valve monthly. I know we have NEVER done this. So I asked my old man to do it. He didn’t feel like fixing it right now which led to the “tennis match”.

While sitting on the couch, he told me to call the repairman we used for the dishwasher. The woman who answered the phone asked me what was wrong and I told her.

She replied, “Yea, that Washing machine brand isn’t the greatest. That code means you need to clean out the water inlet valve”. I said “Like I know what that is or how to do that, thats why I’m calling you.” (Whorebag, in my head)

So she calls me back and said she can get me in on Saturday between 12pm-4pm.

Me: “Ummm that’s four days from now, you have nothing sooner?” Whorebag: “Nope. Mmm-mmm. No. We will call you the day before AND the morning of to confirm.”

Me: “Ok, thanks” (In head: “Dont you condescend me, man. I’ll fuckin kill you man.)👇🏻

I confirmed the service call from the know-it-all, condescending lady on Friday night and Saturday morning. We go out to breakfast to do something together since he is going to work and I have to be home by noon for repair man.

I overeat carbs to feed my resentment.

So on my day off, in the middle of a Saturday afternoon, I have to wait. Me sitting on the couch, after a large, carby meal and doing nothing but waiting is not a normal situation and unfortunately, I fall asleep.

Three unanswered calls later from the fix it guy, I missed my repair window. His voicemail:

“Yea, since you aren’t answering the phone, I am not wasting a 20-minute trip since you are my only call out there today.” Me: Ew. Wasting his time? Who the hell does this guy think he is?

Off topic: True magician, Gary Oldman as the pimp Drexel Spivy

Me: (Furiously calling him back-but I get the awful lady 😫) Me: “I thought after I confirmed three times, he would just show up. I left a note on the front door for him to just come in. I missed his call but I have been here waiting.”

Know-It-All-Lady: “Yea, no, he’s too busy. If you missed his calls, then we have to reschedule. Where were you anyway?”

Me: (wtf-now who does SHE think she is?) “Where was I? I was home, sitting here waiting, doing nothing. I never do that so I fell asleep.”

Know-It-All-Lady: “You fell Asleep???”

Now if my husband dozed off on the couch, this would completely accepted and understandable. For a woman to fall asleep-Unheard of. This woman should know how tired women are in general as a species; this is a complete betrayal.

I’d rather die than have you fix my washing machine bitch

Me: “Well, I think it’s ridiculous that you guys make me wait four days for this appointment. Despite my confirming both calls and wait on my day off on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. His time is too valuable to drive here? I’m sorry my shitty machine isn’t worth his time. I’ll call another company.” She began to talk and hung up on her. (Damn that felt good)

So… I have had a hell of a time finding someone to fix this thing; but I REFUSE to call that company back. I really do not enjoy cleaning my cleaning appliances. 😂

So, I swallowed my pride, watched some you tube how-to’s DIY fix it videos and did it.

I thought of the jerky boys while doing this. “Should I bring all my tools?” https://youtu.be/5F-VQtEfbTU

Yea, I fixed it. It cost NOTHING. I’m a bad ass. I’m muthafuckin Charlie Bronson👇🏻.

In the end, I know how to fix the washing machine. I know what a water inlet valve is and what a pair of pliers is. I don’t need him to admit that I’m a bad ass. I’m not even mad anymore. The irrational thoughts have left and I’m left with realizing this was about a stupid, replaceable washing machine. As much as I hate his guts in the moment, I realize now I’m doing the same thing he is doing. Everything I say about him, he could say about me. He handles stuff that I don’t think about. I don’t give a shit either. 😂

However,👇🏻Admitting it is sexy, I hope men don’t wait until they are this old to see the truth.

Off topic: See the best of Floyd: I still laugh 18 years later

#freedom, #greatpretender, parenting struggles, vulnerability, Women's Fight

I am Henrietta Hill

January 21, 2020January 22, 2020 quillankellydunn

The last three days have been interesting…

It’s the First time BOTH of my kids have had projects at the same time.

(Be sure to check out hilarious science fair pics)

I hear myself sounding just like my mother and as much as I hated what she told me … she was right.

I was so rotten as a teenager.

But I guess that was my job.

Maybe that’s the point of having kids. To learn how much of an asshole you were and truly appreciate your own parents.

The other day, I said to my son

“I didn’t have kids to have them stare at a screen like a zombie all evening.”

His reply, “Then what did you have kids for?”.

That’s a good question.

I actually didn’t have an answer ….

I always said I DIDN’T want kids.

I was the oldest and I had to change three of my siblings diapers and feed them.

I remember cleaning poop from under my brothers balls and thinking “The hell with this.”😂

As teenagers, I remembered how atrocious my siblings and I were to my mother.

I never understood why my mom wouldn’t just go to bed when I was out 😂🙈😜

Now I pick my kids up bitching and whining at 9:30pm because I want to go to bed.

I never wanted to deal with that.

I wanted to avoid that struggle and stress; Just completely bypass that journey.

Then I fell for how adorable pregnant bellies are, how good babies smell & how cute and funny kids are when they are little. I got suckered into it.😂😜

My maternal instinct kicked in I suppose.

My heart wanted something despite what my brain said.

But still…What did I have kids for?

After I drive back and forth on 127th street twelve times in a day with school, practices, games while juggling work, laundry, appointments, and making dinner; I think of Henry Hill and the last half hour of Good Fellas.

While he is driving around, the helicopter is following him yet he attempts to go about his overbooked day…paranoid.

•Henry: 6:55am Doing a line of Coke

(Me: 5:55am – Energize drank🤪)

•7:30am Henry: Attempt to drop off guns to Jimmy (Me: Attempt to drive kids to school as fast as I can while kids fight)

•Henry: Get screamed at by Jimmy that guns are wrong and the drugs are turning his brain into mush

(Me: Kids bitch the whole way to school that they are always late because of me.)

•Henry: Dropping off guns in a paper bag

(Me: Finally Dropping kids off at school with lunches. Kids bitch about what’s in their lunch)

•Henry: Pick his brother up from hospital

(Me: Pick up medications from CVS)

•Henry: Braise veal, pork shanks and sausage for tomato sauce and while also getting some other great ideas for an appetizer

(Me: Scrolling on Pinterest for something to make for dinner and then end up giving up and default to spaghetti and frozen meatballs)

•Henry: Pick up a morose Karen

(Me: Pick up annoyed kids from school)

•Henry: Ditch the guns at his mother-in laws

(Me:Drop one kid at practice)

•Henry: Go pick up Drugs for Pittsburg deal

(Me: Pick up one kid from practice, drop one at a game early, go back home to drop other one off to finish homework, go back to other kids game -now late)

•Henry: Go to his side chic’s house to have her cut the drugs while she berates him; he eventually escapes cackling and she whips a cup of coke at him.

(Me: Make my kids do science projects and get the shit off dining room table while they bitch the whole time that they have to do this project. Get this project out of my life!!!)

•Finally eating dinner

••Like me, Henry did Not anticipate any setbacks like:

•Henry: The guns will be wrong and he has to figure out how to get money back.

(Me: Return some gifts the kids said they wanted for Christmas; but changed their mind- if I don’t do it today within the 30 day mark I will have to accept store credit🤬)

•Henry: Argue with his wife, Schmooze side chic to get drugs, and debate with his drug mule

(Me: Debate with old man about who drives where and why he thinks he can sit on the couch while discussing this.;)

•Henry: Give instructions to his old babysitter now drug mule only for her to ignore what he said, do exactly what he said not to and also forget her hat

(Me: Tell kids how to do science fair poster measurements, they say they understand, get annoyed with me and then they do exactly what I said not to do, all crooked- plus forgot science book)

•Henry: Almost getting into a car accident While looking at helicopter

(Me: Trying to find the away game location, not looking in front of me and almost back ending someone)

•Henry: When picking up his brother from hospital, the doctor made him sit down for an evaluation because he was so stressed out. (Me: Sitting at game with massive RBF, other parents who got it together ask me if I’m ok.)

Then all that shit doesn’t matter suddenly because the Cops arrive as Henry is about to leave to get his old babysitter’s hat. All the craziness Henry Is doing, doing, doing, STOPS. All that business aka BUSY-ness stops. There’s a GUN to his head. He HAS to stop!

Me: In an attempt to maximize some time, I think it’s a good idea to put two boxes of Christmas decorations away in the shed while kids doing project. It’s dark out and I trip on a frozen hose (that’s been left out since summer🙈) and completely wipe out on my right side smashing into the frozen brick-like ground. I’m tangled in the hose as if a boa constrictor is wrapped around my legs. I can barely get up my right arm hurts so much.

I’m laying on the cold, hard ground, wailing in pain, furious with myself exclaiming “everything sucks!”.

I manage to roll onto my back – still entangled in the stiff, frozen snake-hose. I continue to sob feeling sorry for myself as the pain slowly subsides.

I stare up at the lightly snowing sky.

I stop crying.

It’s so quiet and peaceful. I laid there for what seemed forever but it was probably two minutes. Had an Epiphany:

Who cares when I get all this done? What am I in such a hurry for?

I surrender. I raise the white flag.

I walk back into the house using only my left arm, laughing at myself thinking of Molly Shannon walking without using her arms. None of this matters. Now I can’t use my right arm so I’m forced to stop.

I sit down with the kids at the table. I let them ask me questions.

I let them TELL ME how they are going to do their project. I STAY QUIET. I let them tell me what they learned. I’m actually learning something new as well. I laugh at some of the pictures they found.

Instead of “getting it done” I realize I can enjoy the process of getting it done. I need to stop and BE where my kids currently are.

They just need me there for reassurance. They want to make sure they are doing it right. They need me to be PRESENT… KINDA like a mama bird does before she kicks them out of the nest…

I never thought I would miss them being toddlers and I totally do now… My heart hurts when I see pictures or videos of them when they are little. I stare at my toddler nephews in awe and amazement.

I suppose I will miss being an unpaid Uber driver, them saying mom 749 times a day and all this schedule craziness as well someday.

I had kids to enjoy them.

Just as Henry is alive and free, he is bored as hell and “there’s no action.” He misses “The Life”. I suppose I will too. However, I refuse to be bored…I plan on binge/watching all the shows I don’t have time for now😜

#henryhill

#motherhood

#gretchenrubin

#goodfellas

#greatpretender, #landmarkforum, Badassery, empath, Grief, gun control, Health & Wellness, march for our lives, vulnerability

Finding Time For Grace

September 6, 2019May 21, 2025 quillankellydunn

I decided in the last year that I’m not cooking dinner anymore. I decided this but I still felt guilty like I “should” cook dinner.

I definitely had this unrealistic vision of sitting down together every night, saying grace, eating a balanced meal and connecting about the highs and lows of our day. Reality: we end up fighting•everyone sighs in disgust when I put the food down• kids are never hungry because I have to feed them a “pre-dinner” because they are ravenous after school. Then a “post” dinner -again conveniently before bedtime. I make them breakfast, lunch, & snacks.

Kids have games, practices, homework, and us parents may have unfinished work from both our full time jobs and side jobs, traffic to fight and no energy left to use 15 dishes and load dishwasher for the 2nd or 3rd time that day.

Last year, one of my friends with five kids, 11 and under, said to me “I don’t cook”. I was in awe. She said that sometimes she goes to Mariano’s to get chicken and they grill it for her for free. Sometimes they have sandwiches. She doesn’t cook…ever.

She is my hero.

However, she does have time and energy to do fun things with her kids, coach them and spend time with them. Kids will remember her presence; not the amazing dinner she cooked. I decided to do this too, however I always had this nagging “should” guilt. This is also exacerbated when my daughter exclaims “you don’t feed me.”

I wrote myself a permission slip this week to myself, for myself, that I no longer have to cook dinner and permission to not feel guilt. (Concept by Brene Brown). A permission slip, means “it’s okay”& “I’m off the hook.” Like how you write a permission slip to excuse your kids for stuff; do it for yourself.

I stopped comparing myself to other families and feeling like a loser because other people eat dinner together. It might work for other families and their schedule. For my family, it doesn’t work… ever. It never has and I doubt it ever will.

My kids are old enough now to read directions and make their own dinner. You want chicken nuggets, go for it. Frozen pizza- I don’t care- go ahead. I surrender this battle. If my husband wants dinner, he can cook it, we both work. He also is a way better cook with less mess. I’m done with this standoff every night on who will suck it up and cook. 😂

Since giving myself permission and by letting go of this guilt; I have felt very liberated and free. One day last week we were all home together so I actually cooked dinner because “I felt like it.”

I discovered that I now have more time for other things than making dinner and saying grace. I now have time to notice grace.

Despite my kids going to Catholic school, I struggle with my faith at times. With all the tragedies and evil that is done, it is difficult to not become jaded.

Which in turn may cause a person to question their faith and remembering how to stay on their own path.

How can you experience joy while people are getting killed by some senseless massacre? How are you supposed to feel content and at peace when there is terrible illnesses in this world? I feel like a real asshole experiencing frustration about my kids game conflicts or having fun with my friends when there is so much pain in the world.

I put this audiobook on hold at the library a long time ago (like 15 weeks). I forgot about it. The book became available at exactly when I needed it.

All chapters are summaries of different super soul Sunday’s that Oprah has done. (Now you may have a pre-judgement about Oprah as I once did and immediately say, “I don’t like Oprah. She bugs me. She’s full of herself.” Oprah will tell you and admit “I am full of myself, I have to be full in order to give.”) I now understand her more and realize I was judging her instead of paying attention to what her true intention is…to serve others.

Every chapter of this book gives you something truly thought provoking.

I see patients at my job who are disabled. Many have dementia and Alzheimer’s. I have to keep my boundaries up at work to stay unbiased, objective and remain detached. This is healthy and necessary to prevent burn out. These boundaries are to prevent myself from becoming too emotionally attached. The brain is truly fascinating how it can be trained to do certain things. My “fortress“ goes up in work mode as if I push a button in my brain. It just…happens.

I am sure police officers, firemen, nurses, doctors and anyone in service industry all possess a similar capability. It’s essential for survival.

Anyways, I am at home where my boundaries are not up and going through the motions of doing this online training for work…it was on Alzheimer’s.

Alzheimer’s makes me cry.

Alzheimer’s makes my heart hurt.

Alzheimer’s makes me question my faith.

I don’t want to feel this.

I don’t want to think about it.

I don’t want to think of this harsh reality. I don’t want to think of my friends who have had parents go through this. I don’t want to think about my mother-in-law.

This CBT work training was 10 chapters, I was on chapter 6 when I felt this overpowering need to stop.

I was becoming crabby, frustrated and sad.

I wanted to keep bulldozing through it and “get it done”. Then things continued to happen; my kids needed me, I got a phone call, I had to go to the bathroom…etc.

Finally I surrendered and gave up attempting to finish the work training.

I woke up yesterday morning on my own… very early. I took this opportunity to “get this dumb training done.”

I was listening to the book-Chapter 8 on GRACE; Oprah interviews Dr. Caroline Myss.

Oprah asks Dr. Caroline Myss, “What is Grace?”

Caroline: “Grace is something that will prevent you from doing something that you cannot take back. Grace comes in and says “you will be OK”. Grace is a power that comes in and transforms a moment into something better.”

Oprah asks Caroline “How does Grace work?” .

Caroline: “When you are in a huge argument and you are so angry and you want to say something so intentionally hurtful and mean…and that inner voice says, “You sure you want to do that?” …That’s Grace. 🤯

Finally, something I can use!😂

She also answers questions raw & real like:

“What is prayer?”

“What is your definition of God?”

“How do you know when to surrender and let go?”

“How do I know I am making the right decision?”

You have to listen to this for yourself to discover your own enlightenment.

I will share though, Dr. Caroline Myss’s concept of “The Sacred Contract”

“The shared contract is the reason you were born. It’s not a literal document. It’s a spiritual document that our soul recognizes. It’s the feeling of “there’s something I know I was meant to do.” It’s a fundamental agreement that you simply feel because it reveals itself to you through ideas, coincidences, synchronicity’s, obligations that you can’t get out of, mad love you can’t stop, serendipity’s. People are in the dark about their reason for being here. People define it by what they want instead of what they have. People suffer when they pursue a life or chase a dream that doesn’t belong to them.”

So I listened and cried…I was vulnerable and my heart was wide open. (I try to avoid feeling this way🙈 Hello white claw, amazon, donuts, gossip, Netflix binges.) This time I sat with it. I felt it. I resisted the urge to run away and “do” something else. I resisted the urge to stop “feeling”.

I got it together eventually and turned on my computer to finish my training for work on Alzheimer’s.

There it was…all the answers to my questions.

Chapter 7 SPIRITUAL & PALLIATIVE CARE FOR ALZHEIMER’S

Right there…was GRACE.

If I read this last night while crabby, frustrated and jaded- I would’ve missed what I really needed to learn. Thankfully grace intervened telling me to take a break, it’s ok. Grace was giving me permission.

I was now able to read this chapter on spirituality and what individuals with Alzheimer’s need with an open heart and open mind; despite my struggling with my faith the day before. Instead of being annoyed and complaining about this training I had to do; I was exceptionally grateful that I was given this opportunity from my employer to learn this. I realized by “hurrying up” and “just trying to get it done”; I would have missed the joy and pain of learning this.

I oddly found clarity by feeling both sadness and gratitude/joy and pain simultaneously. I was able to see the answer to my earlier question about “how am I supposed to feel joy without guilt?” to fully grasp and recognize what I read last week in Brene Brown’s Braving the Wilderness below:

“The more we diminish our own pain or rank it compared to what others have survived…the less empathetic we become. When we surrender our own pain to make others feel less alone… or to make ourselves feel less guilty… we deplete ourselves of what it feels like to be fully alive and fueled by purpose.” -Brene Brown

Below is Caroline Myss Ted talk.

https://youtu.be/-KysuBl2m_w

Caroline Myss

http://www.supersoul.tv/tag/caroline-myss

Brene Brown On Practicing civility

https://brenebrown.com/articles/2017/11/08/gun-reform-speaking-truth-bullshit-practicing-civility-effecting-change-2/

Permission slips

https://youtu.be/NY6hZf6kI4g

#Beyourself, #greatpretender, #landmarkforum, #simonsinek, Badassery, vulnerability

The Great Pretender

November 13, 2018January 13, 2025 quillankellydunn

“We live in a world where we don’t say what we are thinking and feeling, we say what we think other people want to hear.” Kyle Cease

When I published my book last year, I was petrified what people would think. I assumed I would be judged and that is why it took me so long to just do it. I actually lost my entire book at one point because I did not back it up to a zip drive and the laptop crashed. I attempted to re-write it, eliminating parts that may make people uncomfortable; however the same story played in my head again the same way as I wrote it the second time.

To me, my book is JUST A STORY.

What feeling uncomfortable being vulnerable feels like. 👆🏻

It is a story I created in my head with some true and untrue things. I changed a lot of my story because…I can. My past cannot define who I am. I wrote from the heart, I wrote my from soul, and I wrote whatever popped in my head regardless if it made sense, really happened or who I thought of when I wrote it. If I wrote exactly what happened with an outline and bullet points; I may have lost connection to the reader.

Either way, it is a compliment.

I have never felt like I belonged anywhere because I’ve always said what I meant, felt or thought. Many times people were offended or viewed my words as a weakness, stupid or my honesty blunt or abrasive.

Therefore, I viewed myself as weak, weird and that I did not fit in. Oddly, once I completed my book, my past seemed to stop defining me. Perhaps because I faced it, embraced it and moved on; I realized that the past can be changed and it truly is just a story. I found it to be very therapeutic being real, raw and honest.

There is nothing more attractive to me than someone who speaks the truth about their emotions or thoughts. If you are a guy on a first date and feeling nervous AF, say “I am thinking so hard of something to good to say” or “I am nervous AF”. That is SEXY AF to me. If you play the “cool card” and behave aloof, distant and stand offish (dickish); then you may attract the same person who finds this attractive because they also are not being themselves.

Instead of talking about some lame weather comment in an elevator, say what you think or feel like, “elevator rides are always so awkward aren’t they?”

The definition of “Stand off” is a situation in which neither of two opposing groups or forces will make a move until the other one does something, so nothing can happen until one of them gives away; a stalemate

If people keep “pretending” to be themselves then there is a deadlock and intimacy can never happen. “Pretending” to be happy. “Pretending” to be fine. I attended a conference called THE LANDMARK FORUM this weekend and it was a mind-blowing experience. This Forum brings a new meaning to “BEING YO SELF”. Trust me, everyone should go!

It seems like I can now see ….clearly. Human interaction makes so much more sense. Of course a movie popped in my head that portrays exactly what happens. (This is an example from the movie Swingers.)

Mike: So how long do I wait to call?
Trent: A day.
Mike: Tomorrow.
Sue: Tomorrow, then a day.
Trent: Yeah.
Mike: So two days?
Trent: Yeah, I guess you could call it that, two days.
Sue: Definitely, two days is like industry standard.
Trent: You know I used to wait two days to call anybody, but now it’s like everyone in town waits two days. So I think three days is kind of money. What do you think?
Sue: Yeah, but two’s enough not to look anxious.
Trent: But I think three days is kind of money. You know because you…
Mike: Yeah, but you know what, maybe I’ll wait 3 weeks. How’s that? And tell her I was cleaning out my wallet and I just happened to run into her number.
Charles: Then ask her where you met her.
Mike: Yeah, I’ll ask her where I met her. I don’t remember. What does she look like? And then I’ll asked if we fucked. Is that… would that be… T, would that be the money?
Trent: You know what. Ha ha ha Mike, laugh all you want but if you call too soon you might scare off a nice baby who’s ready to party.
Mike: Well how long are you guys gonna wait to call your babies?
Trent, Sue: Six days.

In Swingers, the entire movie Mike is struggling with a break up and listening to his friends about how to act in the dating scene and “bag some beautiful babies”. He’s awkward, uncomfortable and does not fit in the whole movie. His two buddies say what they think everyone wants to hear and they are bagging chics non-stop (who are also pretending). Finally at the end, Mike meets a girl who is also going through a break up. They are both honest, real, awkward but their chemistry explodes. Mike whips out some ballroom swing dancing at the end leaving his “great pretender” buddies mind-blown and jaws dropped open.

In the moment, we are always feeling something so if you say what you are feeling, another person may respond like “I know what that feels like” and connect with you. When you feel one way, but pretend to be another way, this mixed signal will have others put their walls up and pretend too.

Say what you FEEL. Say what you MEAN. MEAN what YOU SAY. Be REAL. Be AUTHENTIC. Be YOU.

#brenebrown, #greatpretender, #homeschoolingrealshit, #opportunity, #sidehustle, Find A Way, parenting struggles, Uncategorized, Women's Fight, Yoga Pants

My Brain Is Oatmeal

March 28, 2018July 7, 2020 quillankellydunn

I was home (in between jobs 😜)from January 12th-March 6th. Sounds awesome right? However about after a month and not having money (because not working kinda limits all the “fun things” and “projects” you want to do while off.)

I have found it doesn’t take much to throw off your momentum and routine. I believe sick kids is literally the #1 routine- sabotager for moms. Somehow shit is everywhere, you are trapped at home and eventually you have to give in at some point.

Just throw in the towel and watch movies with your sick child who requires hourly snacks and drinks. (Ironically they never eat this much when they are well.) Then of course, mom succumbs to the illness, further jacking up the routine for another week or two.

Then the “getting back on track” phase begins, where you want to jump back into action, however you have mountains of crap to catch up on and clean because the sick child’s stuff is all over. Finally after about three days, you are ready to get back to your “routine”.

My “routine”…After I get the kids to school and calm down from the morning rage of screaming at each other to get going; I do the morning dishes. I wipe the counter and table, which leads to scrubbing the stove, and then washing floor in the kitchen. Let’s be real, cooking real dinners are messy AF and since I was “off”, making real dinners, not chicken nuggets or pizza, was expected. Reasoning: I am off work, I should be able to start dinner. Hence, “Should.”

I am an unintentional slob while cooking. I leave cabinets open, I always over boil pasta and get the filmy stain on the stove. Most of the stuff I chop ends up on the floor, and I have like 15 different seasonings and ingredients on the counter. I’m like an OCD person’s worst nightmare.

I move on to the laundry and find myself frustrated about the baskets of unmatching socks mixed with items the kids barely wore and putting it in the wash. I sit on the floor attempting to match my daughters 17 pairs of socks in various colors, that are “almost the same” color but not quite. I cuss and then realize I also have many different colored socks that require matching and curse myself for being me. When I start becoming euphoric when I find a sock match, I know it’s time for me to get a life and do something else. I stand up feeling old AF because my hips and knees ache from siting like that so long.

I decide to take a break from the maddening sock-matching battle, get out of the house and take an exercise class. When I arrive home, I’m starving and thirsty so then I ponder about what to make that is the least messy to clean up. While I’m thinking, I mindlessly eat some donkey chips or nuts. Once I make something, I clean up again, try to figure out what to make for dinner and I’m now exhausted.

I aim to take a “meditation nap” while listening to headphones by 1pm before I shower and pick the kids up. I wake up to my alarm at 2:00pm and check my texts, somehow I’m on some article on Social media and 30 minutes goes by. Son of a… so no shower…again.

I’m getting headaches frequently, probably from dehydration because I keep forgetting to drink water. None of my clothes fit except yoga pants. I have no energy to walk in addition to my workouts. I am barely hitting 5000 steps on my Fitbit. I have forgotten two appointments and like 6 of my kids practices already because I didn’t put it in my calendar. My house is being consumed by clutter and randomness, and the sad thing is, I don’t even care. However, I do begin caring about dumb shit and worrying like “my friend didn’t text me back, is she mad at me?”

I noticed the universal intervention while I kept procrastinating about cleaning my bathroom. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” Until one fateful day, in the middle of washing my face and my daughter asked me something. I dried my face , went to help her and brought kids to school. When I arrive home, I discover the back room floor wet. “Damn kids, what the hell?” I think. Until I go upstairs and realize I left the sink running the entire time. Now I really have to clean my bathroom. Declutter and throw away tons of crap that should’ve been gone years ago.

Fast Forward: Start job March 6th.

•Have to wake up at 4:20am in order to get everything done and leave a time-window open for my scatterbrain-ness•

Below is all that I accomplished:

•Exercise•Shower•Get dressed•Wake kids•Make them breakfast•Ensure they are ready and brush their teeth to eliminate dragon breath before I leave•(why don’t kids care these days about not being the smelly kid).
The Night before all this is ready: Kids lunches/snacks/water•Meal prep my lunch/snacks•Run dishwasher•Laundry•kids uniforms/shoes/socks all ready•(the cursed sock and shoe search is the biggest daily time sucker).•Lay out my workout clothes (with socks and shoes)•Pick out work clothes including underwear, bra, socks and shoes (I am just as bad as my kids, who am I kidding?)•
Leave for train at 6:35am.
Hall ass 25 minutes in the cold to my building
I eat the food I brought with me.
I drink tons of water, probably 20 ounces an hour without thinking about it.
I get 10,000+ steps in by halling ass back to the train station.
No naps,
Home by 5:30

It continues…

•Make dinner•Clock in as an unpaid Uber driver and cart kids from school extended day, games and practices•No missed practices because I put everything my calendar immediately upon receiving the coach’s email•I keep on the kids about putting their crap away•I hold kids accountable to get their shit ready for the morning•No guilt•

Repeat.

Notice the difference? Now it is clear and concise like a fucking resume. Lots of Action Words.

No bullshit.

It’s all done. No elaboration, no details.

It’s completed because it has to be.

I don’t have a choice.

There’s no time to think.

No time to procrastinate.

I have to just do it.

The less time you have, the less time you waste.