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 😉


“Oh. You’re THAT Jeni.”


Yup. I am indeed, even though I strongly suspect that whatever you’ve heard to turn me into “THAT Jeni” in your mental catalogue doesn’t remotely approach the whole picture and it certainly isn’t likely to be an accurate portrait of me as a person.

It is what it is though. There’s a part of me that wishes forlornly for a time when I’ll no longer be in danger of being “THAT Jeni” but it’s a small part. Our history is part of who we are and this particular bit of history has had so much influence on who I am now that I can no longer imagine myself without it.

Which sucks. I can no longer remember the pre-trauma Jeni. I suppose I should be specific and say the pre-this-trauma Jeni. Ugh.

Someone posted a meme today that when faced with any obstacle, one can choose growth or one can choose safety — as though those are the only two options or as though the choice is always in the hands of the person facing the obstacle. I’m all for taking accountability for my choices but what is someone who has had their autonomy and their agency stolen from them supposed to do with that lil pearl of wisdom? Be grateful for the growth opportunity? Fuck that.

Fuck also the people who have all along been more concerned with mitigating the impact my presence might have on the perpetrators’ ability to continue blithely sailing through life than on the grievous harm those perpetrators caused — and not just to me, as it seems a vain hope that injury to “just” one person would be sufficient cause for people to re-examine these assholes and their place in our community.

For the record – I’m not remotely interested in hearing from ANYONE what good guys these perpetrators are in their other dealings. I will never be friends with them. Stop trying to make that happen.

Cautiously Hopeful

I did it. I opened up and let them in. I needed to do it, especially last night and especially after what happened over the weekend, but I still didn’t expect to do it and I certainly didn’t expect to do it in the way that it happened.

It feels … right. I went with my gut and I took my cues from the universe. That said, I’m worried. I don’t want to focus on all the ways this could suck for me if it goes bad, but after living through the past eight months I don’t know how to tune the anxiety out.

So I’m hopeful. Cautiously, yes, but hopeful.



I’ve figured out what I want … that is to say, I’ve admitted it to myself. Phew. It isn’t something I’m super proud of but it feels true and, despite my conflicted feelings about whether or not I *should* want it, it resonates on the deepest level.

I also know that I’m unlikely to get what I want. That’s the joy of wanting things that involve other people … they’re messy and things don’t always, or even often, turn out the way one might hope. That’s part of the feeling behind knowing I ‘shouldn’t’ want this.

I do though. I absolutely do. I’ve spent all weekend sitting with these feelings and processing through them. I’m letting go of the “shoulds” and I’m letting go of worrying about what she is going to say – it won’t be supportive, I know that. That’s one of the hardest things to come to terms with.

She worries for me. She doesn’t want to see me get hurt and going after what I truly want means allowing myself to be vulnerable to you. She understands though and that means so very much to me. She’s been there. She knows.

I’m a bit anxious, more than a bit honestly, about how you will react to this. The processing I’ve done this weekend has centered around letting go of any expectations one way or the other. I can’t control anyone but me. I know what I want. I want it, even if you’re against it now. It would mean so much to me if you supported this and I’ll be ok if you don’t. I know that – whatever feels and judgies this will bring up for you – it was what you wanted before you went tits up and any objections you have at this point are around the discomfort you’re likely to feel and the work we’ll have to do together.

He’s likely to feel a bit blindsided by this. I’m not entirely sure what’s going on with him, apart from his own sitting with challenging shit and working through the road bumps of this so-called life. If we’d been together as planned last night, both of us would’ve avoided dealing with this decision for awhile. The avoidance game is so tempting sometimes, especially around the deep feels – especially around owning where things are with you. It’ll be good growth for both of us, though he’s less likely to see it through that lens initially.

She’s going to be MAD. She may cut me off entirely. She’s most of the way there already. I hope that isn’t how this works out. I hope she can hear me.

She’s going to be thrilled. I’m a little annoyed that she’s had any kind of influence – and I’m really annoyed that she might have been right cuz she was SUCH a jerk about it. Grumble.

For those of you following along at home —> there are multiple hes and shes involved here, in case that wasn’t clear. There’s only one you … even if you’re so many different people and things lately.

I love you. I know what I want. Your death doesn’t mean my desires shall go unfulfilled. Oddly enough, even with the worry over how you’ll react, I know that this is what you want for me. When all is said and done – this is what both of us wanted and, now that I’m able to see it, it’s what I still want.

My hand is out to you. I can feel your fingers curling around mine. I can feel the squeeze you give them. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things if those are phantom fingers and squeezes. They’re there. I can see you. I SEE YOU.


God I want you inside me tonight. In class today we talked about anatomy and sexual technique and I couldn’t stop remembering the last time I had your cock in my mouth… the smug expression on your face as you watched me squirm uncontrollably with your hand in my cunt… the love in your eyes, your voice, your manner as you told me all the things you were feeling as we fucked, the hoarseness as you described how it felt to hear me call out your name as I came…

I miss you. I love you. I’m sorry. I’m holding out my hand. Why are you gone? Where are you?


With friends like these …

I’m in a pretty dark place tonight. My anxiety is off the charts, I talked to my therapist about some of the most traumatic events in my past today, and my period started yesterday – knowing those things, I really shouldn’t take anything my brain is saying seriously right now … but how does one do that? How does one completely dissociate from the noise? I know there are those that can pull it off – and, to be clear, I don’t exactly envy them – but I’ve never managed that trick.

I’ve been thinking – and feeling, let’s be honest – a lot about friendship for the past few days. I am very fortunate to have some of the best friends any person could ask for. People who really and truly care, who have held me together during some pretty terrible things over the past twenty years or so, not to mention the shitstorm that has been the past two years. But I’m tired of being mired in the muck and I can only imagine the toll it has taken on them to constantly be propping me up. Still they’re consistently there. They drop what they’re doing to help.

Then there are … others. I’ve had a few friendships implode in my life for various reasons, these moments generally come about once every seven years or so … until this past July. Since the middle of July I’ve lost about fifteen ranging from the friendly acquaintance to the deeply loved. There have been some extreme circumstances, sure, and a crucible is a much better test of character than a field of flowers but I can’t help but wonder what is going on with me. Am I just that bad at picking people? Am I just that bad of a friend?

I had one of the deeply loved ones tell me recently that it’s hard to be my friend because I’m too self-absorbed. Ouch. She gave me some things to work on in order to keep her friendship and, while some are the very real and valid get out of my own head and be better at listening sort of things, some feel like total bullshit. It feels like she doesn’t actually want to be my friend – she wants to mold me into someone I’m not. She doesn’t approve of how I manage my other relationships, she is tired of me grieving something she doesn’t think I should want or be involved in, she doesn’t want to deal with my tears, I’m not queer enough to have a shareable opinion about being queer, I’m not allowed to ask that she not use the word ‘cunt’ as an insulting description of a female-identified person, I’m not experienced enough to provide guidance to other newbies, etc. I don’t even know how to approach a conversation about this cuz how do I express any of this without making it all about me?

Another one, this one somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, has decided that we aren’t friends anymore because I asked for some space and, when she didn’t give it to me – that is to say, when she told me over and over and over again about how she was going to give it to me – I took it for myself. I gave myself a few days off. She’d just given me a diatribe about how the trauma I experienced recently and the resultant fallout have negatively impacted her ability to develop a new partner relationship… even though neither she nor this potential partner (nor that person’s current partner) were in any way involved in what happened to me.

Then again, I’m totally stuck in my head so of course I can come up with all sorts of reasons why they’re the jerks and I’m the victim. God, I’m so fucking sick of feeling like a victim. Of all the aspects of my mother that I NEVER want to claim for myself, that’s got to be at the top of the fucking list. I read over this and that’s the feeling I get though.

I feel like such an impostor in my own skin.