Happy Ever After….

My gripe for today is fairy tales. I have been reading a lot of literature both serious and quirky that suggests that fairy tales are the downfall of the female psyche. This makes an incredible amount of sense. Like a light bulb going on in your head (I don’t do this often, it annoys the voices when I do that) and you realize that you can actually blame your parents for this one. Ok well they pretty innocent in this matter, blame Disney, that horrible chauvinist cult! (Note to my lawyer…sorry I mean attorney, can I write this?)

You see the term a “Happy Ending” has many linguistic meanings when one delves deeper into the matter. Firstly it implies that the beginning and middle is not happy. Secondly what is with the ending bit? Are you telling me that after the princess rides off into the sunset that is the end of your life? With the exception of Princess Fiona, the curvy and rebellious ogre, we rarely see a sequel to a fairy tale. This scares me.

Another thing about Fairy Tales that gets to me is that they insinuate that your life is meaningless unless you meet Prince Charming who will save you from your tedious life. This is why women all over the world still panic when everyone around them are getting married. And we plan these elaborate Fairy Tale weddings with the princess dress and tiara and all the trimmings. (PLEASE NOTE: This is a generalization, and I know there the strong willed types out there that do not conform to these ideals. This is personal opinion)

So here we are, the result of fairy tales, women that have careers, belts, earring, cars, shoes, clothes, bags, investment policies, and the other essentials and we still waiting for someone to save us. Now my burning question is: “What exactly do we need to be saved from?”. The only dragon I saw lately was a crazy big butted woman at the licensing department; she looked like she could breathe fire.

That all said and done, try and convince a little girl that she should give up Barbie and all her princess dress up gear. You will be in for a screaming session of note. We women love the whole ideal. The magic and romance that comes with Fairy Tales is something that is irresistible.

I think we can have the romance and the nice guy, but he does not have to save us. My life is personally far from tedious. I like it most days.

It comes down to a case of self worth, if you believe that you need to be saved you doomed to ride off into the sunset and your glory days will be over once the confetti is being sprinkled as you leave with your Prince Charming.

Rather believe that you are a princess right now and that you rule your kingdom in the fabulous designer gowns and shoes that you purchased with the profits from your growing economy, filled with cheerful citizens and no crime. The process of marriage will simply be a combining of your royal kingdom with his and you can share tips on how increase the agriculture sector and deal with international markets.

It’s all your how you perceive your life. This will define your ultimate success.



My head hurts,
Stop the noise
Please can I have some silence?
I don’t want this chaos

My head hurts
Take away the images
Please can I no longer see?
I don’t want these memories

My head hurts
It won’t stop
The Noise and Images won’t stop
It just streams on and on and on

I said hush!!
But it doesn’t stop
And my head never stops hurting

And I know,
My head hurts because my soul needs someone to talk to
It speaks to my head because my heart won’t listen
My heart has turned its back on me, because I never get it right

Us & Them

By having an “Us” and a “Them”, we create judgment, simply because we create a barrier,

By defining your world, your society or your religion, you create a stereotype. And you separate yourself from the rest of humanity by creating a them. They believe certain things and we believe different, they are different to us.

We all bleed the same color, we all turn to dust, we take nothing with us when we die.

If we continue to box ourselves into a world that we create, we create bigger barriers in the world.

In a generation that are globally connected via technology, we have yet to evolve to the point where we can destroy the labels that we have attached to ourselves.

God created us different, he did not want us to be the same. But why would he want us to judge each other or decide which image he created is better than the next?

I am alive, I am human, and so are you, therefore you have my respect

Clean Slate

I have wiped my slate clean
I do not know who I am
I do not know what to be
I do not care who I should be

We are told to be something
Society boxes us into neat packages called communities
And we rarely escape to open new gifts
We create a reality within the boundaries

Fear governs everything that we are ever thought


I am a puppet
Pull my strings
Make me dance
Move my head
Make me look in the direction that you want

I am your puppet
Close my curtain when you are done
Lay me to rest
Then pick me up when you are ready

I am your puppet
Dress me up
Make a show of me
I know you are my master

I am your puppet
But I wish I could cut my strings
I wish my puppet legs could run
I wish I could move my mouth and speak

I wish I could see beyond this box you keep me in
I am your puppet
Because you own me
I belong to me

But my puppet soul knows there is more

The Plight of the Dark Phoenix

She rose once from the ashes
The fire that consumed her when she searched for love, left her in scorched and empty
Then she found a new love, a greater love, a love that was hers
This love was not a man, this was a love affair with herself

There were boys, there were men
There was one that touched her deep in her soul and whispered: “It’s ok to be as you are”
He was a gift on her journey to becoming
It was never meant to be forever, but the Dark Phoenix knew he would stay in a part of her forever
He enabled her to move forward, he helped her unlock the cage

She has flown, she has been free
But the cage beckoned again
The cage is very sly
It whispers suggestions, it tricks you and makes you think you can rest in it but still fly whenever you like

She rested within the cage,
There is comfort in what you know
But slowly the door is closing
And when one sleeps, they are not aware

She sees the trick now,
She must fly again
But when her wings get tired, where will she rest?

The sisterhood of stretchmark cream

I was pregnant. Yes me, the same girl who has a few sets of Hello Kitty pajama’s.

My friends continue to focus on their careers, and do trendy things that I cannot do while pregnant. There they were frolicking around in smokey places with people who get shit faced and discuss politics and social issues. I was reading baby books and expanding….rapidly.

Unfortunately I was not the basketball mum. You know the type – skinny with a basketball under their top? Maybe I could have been; but I also did not do any preggy bellies and other exercises designed to keep you fit when pregnant.

The thought of exercise made me more tired than I was already was. So as my body and love for chocolate expanded simultaneous, I was naturally become concerned with the most dreaded word in pregnancy.

STRETCHMARKS!!!! (cue scary musical score)

This is why I was canvasing my local pharmacy in search of creams and potions to ward off this evil curse.

Ok maybe it’s not a curse, but let’s face it. Every woman wants to be the smug one saying “I didn’t get any stretchmarks” as she shows off her flawless tummy, and prances around the beach in a bikini.

Society has created the stigma and consumerism had made us believe that we have to buy in to perfection expectation that they have created.

And here I was happily buying into it right now. Oils. Lotions and some herbal potions. I am happily and frantically clocking up a giant bill that will in fact make no difference to my genetic make up. I will only discover this in about 3 months and 5 days. But right now every bottle symbolizes hope and success!

What was really unexpected in my frenzy of magic lotion shopping, is the advice that appears so unexpectedly!

Usually shop assistants have the look of disdain on their faces. Disdain at the store, their job and the human race that frequents this place. Usually you have to approach them with caution and politely request assistance. Whereby they look down at your hopeful face and say something like: aisle 3.

But today my world has opened up!

I may not be “popular” anymore. I was sulking because no one ever invites me out anymore. Just because I am going to say no; doesn’t mean the bitches need to place me in pregnant exile.

But who cares! The mums are talking to me. The pregnant ones. The current mums. Even the ones who have kids with kids! And they are dispensing advise faster than cat videos go viral.

“Use the tissue oil creme AND and the pure tissue oil”

“Swop to a richer body lotion”

“Make sure you soak often”

“Don’t scratch!! What ever you do….never ever ever scratch”

I followed this advise like a religion. Devoted for once to something besides watching TV.

36 weeks in. And not a stretch mark in site. I was so ready to brag.

Then came the waiting for baby to arrive. 40 weeks and the kid was still procrastinating. My stomach was so huge I switched on mentally on went on auto pilot.

My husband however saw the lines appearing. He said nothing of course. He has a good sense of self preservation.

But eventually after 3 days of my labour starting and stopping which landed up in emergency c-section; I met my princess. Life was beautiful.

Until….. I finally saw my body again. There they were – the damn stretchmarks.

After all that time and money!

But somehow it only mattered for a few minutes. And it didn’t matter one bit.

There is life after being sexy and fabulous. There is being sexy and fabulous with some Stretchmarks.

More importantly there is the sisterhood of stretch mark cream. When I see a frantic pregnant woman in the pharmacy,  I give her advise and guidance in the store. And I know that even though it may not work, she will be ok with it. Because she is a mum now, and she is part of a sisterhood that can only be understood by someone who has real compassion for the giant change you entering into.