This isn’t a beginning, for all that it’s my first post on here. I’ve been writing on and off most of my life. Words are an essential part of my being and not just in a ‘required for life’ oxygen sort of way but in a required for truly LIVING sort of way (unless the endorphins get in the way but more on that later…).

This isn’t an ending, though there will be some postings of past musings as I hope to use this space to gather the scattered writings I’ve done publicly and privately and whatnot.

Besides, the best stories start somewhere in the middle. The middle is an especially comfortable place to be for someone who doesn’t identify strongly with binaries. It isn’t the center – this isn’t a linear spectrum – it is an unspecified location within the vast miasma of between. I relish the fuzzy grey areas, the challenging bits that don’t play nicely with pigeon-holes, the venn diagram overlaps –> the utter rejection of mutual exclusivity when it comes to identity, self-expression, and enjoyment.

Stay tuned for glimpses of my middle 😉



I went to your class last night and it was magical. Not just the topic but the entire package. Yes, part of it was that you and they were there and hot and teasing and got me all flustered and lip-bitingly anxiously excited. Part of it was being in that space after so long away and realising that I made the right choice when I decided on a break, and that my pain was soothed rather than deepened at the knowledge that I am not welcome to proceed along the path I thought would be mine. A huge part of it was the conceptualising of magic as a reframing for the stuff we do that has the most value.

The best bit though – that was the witchy GQ of you and the delightful honesty of them. When you built them a boner and finally managed to embarrass them, it was beautiful because there is obvious joy between you and you shared it with the class so generously. I felt safe and comforted basking in that joy. I enjoyed the so-called humiliation afterward more than you can know. I babbled for a good hour and a half, with my cheeks flushed and fuzzy, high as the proverbial kite.

When I woke up this morning I had so much residual energy and jazz-handedness that I would swear the daily post prompt was “Magical” and I was thrilled to write on that theme. Well, thrilled to think about writing and you and them and other wonderfully magical friends in my life. Apparently the word is “identical” so the old adage of seeing what we want to see held true 🙂

Thank you. Thank you for the magic. Thank you for the comfort and safety. Thank you for holding space. Thank you for the flirting. Thank you for the deviousness and glee. Thank you.

“Ooooooh-ooooh-hooo, witchy GQ
See how high they fly-ay-ay
Ooooooh-ooooh-hooo, witchy GQ
They got the moon in their eye-ay-ay-ays”

In other news … the YA series name thing at the top of this post popped up in my feed as I was noodling and I adore it. A kitchen of amethyst and rain sounds pretty fucking magical to me!



I’ve heard it said that love and hate are but too sides of the same coin. I remember once you told me that you weren’t overly worried about any negative feelings I might harbour toward you – that it was my indifference you feared. Well. I hate that I’m not indifferent. I don’t know how to get there. I want so badly to get there.

My life comes and goes around me. Things move on. Everything has changed and yet stayed the same. I’m so frustrated by the problematic individuals in my life that my therapist asked me to write a set of criteria / commandments that I want to govern the friends I make – and she, of course, asked me to track how well I can live by them as what use is a standard one can’t hold oneself to?

You don’t fit. You don’t qualify. You wouldn’t be able to meet these rules. I doubt I could honestly say that you are able to pass even one. Yet I long for you in the darkest recesses of my heart. I don’t talk about it. I’m not willing to suffer the scorn and reprimands, however well meant, of those around me.

Most days I manage to suppress the longing. I go whole weeks without even thinking of you. Then there you are, in front of me as though the universe just can’t get enough of that sick, twisting knife of the perverse.

I hate that you don’t care, that you likely never did. I hate that I probably don’t ever flit across your mind. I hate that I’m not indifferent. But I’m not.

The Point of No Return

I envy her. I didn’t before. Hell before I giddily relished my position as superior to hers – it wouldn’t have been possible for me to envy her. I feel foolish thinking of it now. Pitying her for the meagre scraps she was forced to accept… for the fact that she couldn’t know all of you.

Hindsight being what it is – I can’t help but look back and want to slap my younger self. I KNEW better. My gut screamed at me about it but, oh, how desperately my heart refused to hear.

It’s so painful to have figured out the moment it changed, to have made the connection between those deep undercurrents and to know – with every fibre of my being – that nothing would have convinced me to make a different choice at the time.

That’s a sign that all the subterfuge works I guess. We’re supposed to want it and I did. Oh, how I wanted it. If I’d known that it was linked to you, that it would be the point of no return in our relationship … but that’s a useless hypothetical. There’s no way I’d have understood the connection at the time and no one would’ve clued me in because they wanted me to make that choice. I know they meant well, most of them any way, but that still sucks.

It hurts so much that your decisions were based on my answer that night … and that you weren’t honest with me about it. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like I can point to a moment between us where you were honest and up front. Yet somehow you see me as the villain.

Gods, I envy her and her blissful ignorance.

“One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand”

Which way is the best way?

A problematic person once made an analogy about how the universe communicates that really resonated at the time but then they were exposed as problematic and I let go of that knowledge for a bit.

I also applied the analogy in a very specific way and contendedly moved on without questioning my read.

Funny how assumptions work – even when we think we’re on guard against them.

The basic analogy is that if you’re not on the best path toward your best self, the universe will send you nudges in the hopes you’ll realise your error and make the necessary change. These nudges start small and then escalate. If you insist on staying the (inappropriate) course, things will get progressively worse.

When the universe hits you with a 2×4, that’s an escalation. When the universe derails your train with a Mack truck – another escalation, and one that has worrisome prospects if one blithely continues along one’s way.

One of my nearest and dearest said something to me today about how it seems like I got hit by a semi cuz of the life stopping consequences of a certain situation and mentioned a 2×4 in the same conversation and – if you’ll excuse the pun – it hit me that not only was she right, so was the asshole six months ago. I just applied the idea to the wrong end of the stick.

So, okay universe. I hear you. I’m catching on. I’m making the change.

People keep talking about the dumpster fire that was 2017 and here’s to throwing that – and them – into the fire and letting go.

“God help you if you are a Phoenix, and you dare to rise up from the ash”

Well, I said a few days ago that 2018 would be the year of the Phoenix and here’s to reaffirming that. I’m daring. It’s happening.

Thanks to the universe for ACTUAL integrity (as opposed to the snake oil variety being sold) and knowing one’s value. Thanks to the universe for Felix, for friends that are friends, and for recognition of the “nudges” that have been sent my way.



Felix Felicis

I’m starting to get why JK named her good luck potion after happiness ❤

Felix is starting to become a force to be reckoned with in my life and I couldn’t be happier about it, especially since he came at me out of left field.

2018 may end up being the year of the Felix as well as the Fénix 😉

If only

“I’m not a king, no, not a hero, not a fool,
I’m not perfect, I’m flesh and bones,
And I’m exactly what you need.”

If only our wants were aligned with our needs. If only you loved yourself enough to insist on getting your needs met. If only …

Ah, well.



It’s the night before the annual making of resolutions. I could be out revelling. I’m not. I can’t be around happy people right now – even if the happiness is somewhat forced and contrived.

I’m not happy.

I have happy moments. I have a pretty spectacular life when it comes down to it. I have worked hard to get where I am and my current life is the result of immense growth and change – especially in 2017. It was a rollercoaster year.

I should be happy … or so the voice  in my head tells me …

It’s not even an asshole voice, as so many of them are. It truly wants what is best for me. It genuinely strives for my best interests.

I just can’t. I’m just not.

I resolve that 2018 will be alright. That I will be alright. I don’t know what that looks like. I don’t know how to get there. I’m terrified of the not knowing. I’m already exhausted at the prospect.

I want to wish you happiness. I want to wish you the best. But I’m selfish. I know I can’t make those things contingent on other outcomes … but if I’m honest those other outcomes are what I really want.

I resolve to learn more. To be a better love. Better able to handle your absence.

I resolve to let you go on to your next iteration. I don’t know how and I resolve to accept that I will never know.

I love you. I’m holding out my hand to you. I’m still here. Abandoned.

I resolve. I’m resolved.