Promiscuous Girl

“Never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor and it can never be used to hurt you.” –Tyrion Lannister GoT Season 1

I start this blog, like all the blogs I’ve done before it, with a quote. It is such a powerful quote, here it is again, “Never forget what you are, the rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor and it can never be used to hurt you.” I recently ventured into the Game of Thrones realm. (BTW- OMG!! I guess some trends are worth investigation!! I LOVE IT!!) This quote struck me in the gut. It is muttered to Snow by Tyrion when Snow shows shame in being the bastard child of Stark. I will share it’s importance to me now.

I was recently involved with someone. I don’t know how else to say that. We were seeing one another, but I don’t believe he really had much intention of sticking around ever, OH but the fun he had toying about with me. ANYWAY, we talked an awful lot about my past. You see, my friends, I have quite a promiscuous one. *Gasp* That is right! While we were involved, he tended to make me very shameful of this fact. He asked for a number. “Why is that important?” I still don’t see the difference it makes, but ah well. I gave him a rough estimate. You see there is a shame. There is a fear. Hell no one likes judgement to be passed upon them. Especially someone who has cared so much about how others look at her. The number was not satisfactory to him. He said that it showed that I “didn’t treat sex as the sacred act it was.” After we stopped seeing one another, one of the many times we stopped seeing each other, I made a list…

Yep. I listed out every person that I have ever “bumped uglies” with. Curious??? Too bad! It is MY list. MY Number. NONE of your business or anyone else’s, unless I specifically choose to discuss that with you! Instead, here is a percentage of my encounters, a stat if you will. 75% of the people I have gone to bed with I either wanted to date, we did date, or they became my significant other.  So kindly stick that up your sacred ass and smoke it! =)

Why do I have sex? Why does anyone have sex? It’s nice! It feels good to be close to someone. For me, it also depends on my mood or what I am going through. Most times, I have sex because I like someone, and care about them, and want to have an intimate moment with that someone. Sometimes, I just don’t give a shit. Could be that I was recently involved, it ended not the way I’d hoped, and so I just wanna get some. (No, not this time, but there have been times.) Sometimes I am a little drunk and feeling a little more fun and fancy free. Sometimes I just don’t know how to say no. I don’t like hurting other people’s feelings or making someone else feel rejected, so it happens. But really, it doesn’t matter why. Even when I don’t give a flying fuck, who is anyone to say what is sacred to me? Every person I have ever had sex with, I had some kind of connection with. May that be friendship, consensual sexship, or a deeper connecting relationship. There is but one exception. I will not say his name.. Matt… oops… okay I won’t say his full name. Deal? 😉 The only person I ever regret letting touch me in any way. He has been so careless, and he did not deserve me. F that guy!

This last guy will be the last to use this against me and make me feel like shit for who I have been. Maybe this means that I have no future with a man, but I am thinking that would not be such a terrible thing after all. I may have been intimate with an uncomfortable amount of boys, but the right man would love me for me., past faults and present flaws. Anyone who truly gets to know me, finds that I am honest, faithful, kind, and loving, and I have been known to make another laugh at least once before. I would not change who I have been with for the world (excluding the exception… forget that guy.. seriously!)

I have had some of the best times getting to know some fascinating people in the most intimate way there is. My armor is on now. You can’t hurt THIS bitch with THAT nonsense. So, move along and get outta here… =)

He left his mark…

“When she was a girl, she expected the world…” Paradise by Coldplay

They do don’t they? Leave their mark that is. When you read that you thought of someone, maybe many someones. They leave their mark. Some that still ache, some that make you smile, but left marks nonetheless. I’m going to let my piercings tell their stories, for each one was gotten after they left their mark.

Nose: Jonathan

The longest relationship I have ever had, coming in at a short amount of 1 year and 7 months. I was married folks… and didn’t last this long. We smiled a lot. He stayed my friend years after. Even now, every once and a while I will randomly get a text from him. He is married and happy now. I am happy for him. I was young and not ready for the maturity our relationship had. I didn’t even know who I was.

Tongue: Colby

My high school sweetheart. I dated him before Jonathan and after Jonathan. He was the first person that I truly loved and gave my heart to. He was the first to break my heart. He made me laugh like no one else could. I think he loved me too, but we didn’t speak the same love language. We broke each other’s heart.

Eyebrow: Josh

Married at 20. Enough said. I wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready. We certainly were not ready for a child, but two months into our marriage, I was pregnant. How can I not smile about this one. He gave me my wonderful baby boy. He remains one of my closest friends, my family. I am so thankful I have him to this day.

Snake Bite: Justin

Four years that I waited to give my heart up… and I chose this guy…Yep! This one bruised and bled and swelled (the piercing that is.) Not even close to the pain and humiliation that I suffered for surrendering my heart to someone who completely disregarded everything I had to offer. Even worse, no explanation. He just disappeared. C’est la vie.

Anti-Brow: Zach

This boy… timing has a lot to do with love now doesn’t it? After a month, he had to go… and our story went right with him…into the letters he would send. Stories that would remain stories never to become reality.

Yes! They left their mark.

I have lost a lot that I have loved. Putting my heart out there and getting spit on.

THIS will not stop me from putting my heart out again and again. I am reaching for someone, and some day they will reach back. I am waiting. These men/boys have taught me how to love you… and I will love you so hard. So hurry… I’m waiting…

Breaking Up is Hard to Do… so I stayed

“It’s hard to dance with a devil on your back…” -Florence + The Machine

I met him and fell head over heels…so cliche’. Two weeks later, even though I was reluctant, I agreed to go in on buying a trailer home with him. It took a week or so, but before the end of our first month together we owned a home. That is when everything fell apart. I found out at this time that he suffered from depression, anxiety, bi-polar disorder, and others, in my totally non-degree holding opinion,  multiple personality disorder. I found this out through a series of events that I would rather not dispose of publicly. I myself battle depression and anxiety, but through years of council I feel like I have them in a manageable state. I could not turn my back on someone because they suffer as I do, and even more than I do.

I stayed, even though he made me cry. I stayed.

Arguments quickly escalated. For the first time in a long time, I was fearful when an argument began. Arguments were inevitable. Communication was breaking down before we had a chance to build it up. Everything crashed. Violence and anger rose.

The day after my birthday, he ripped down the decorations he had hung for me. I cried as I picked up the mess and threw it away. “Why pick it up? I am just going to throw it around again!” He said as he whipped the garbage bag around. I cried harder as I swept the mess. He laughed as he said, “When you cry you sound like you have Down Syndrome.” He had been abandoned by everyone he ever thought cared. I had to stay. Can’t you see? I had to stay.

I stayed, even though my heart had shattered, humiliated. I stayed.

He came home late. I wanted to cuddle. I felt so alone. When we cuddled I felt like we could be okay, like we could survive. He took a shower and promised me my cuddles. He got out of the shower and a friend had text him. The friend had a birthday gift for my kid that he could purchase. He wanted to leave, even though I needed him. I wanted to be selfish. Stay. Please stay. Only to cause a fight. At 3 AM he left.  After he left and returned, we fought. He held a pen to his throat. I couldn’t see. My glasses on the table by the couch as I had wanted to sleep there. There was a sound like the pen broke the skin. I called the cops. It was determined that I was crazy. That never happened.

I stayed, even though I was insane, selfish. I stayed.

He had a way with words. Somehow I knew I was in the wrong, always. Admittedly, I went through his personal messages. I sensed something. (I would like to think that my grandma guided me here, but I just knew I had to.) For the last month he was talking to an old “friend.” “I secretly miss you everyday.” “No one could ever replace you. I know that now.” “My Twinflame.” “I miss us.” I was going through hell for this man, and he was giving the words I longed for to another.

I stayed, even though my heart was betrayed. I stayed.

There was a female that had been his friend before me. They “hung out and watched Naruto and she would give me blow jobs.” His words. I was not okay with them hanging out anymore. Every time we fought, he made a public show of it on social media. She reached out, “Message me.” “Talk to me dude.” I told him to just go ahead and talk to the whore. I was over it. Over everything. My heart was done. “Are you that intimidated by me? I never liked you anyway. Don’t get in between my friendship with him. Know your place.” I ignored her and confronted him. “She is just upset. She wants her friend.” I was in the wrong again.

I stayed, even though he stood by someone who wasn’t me. I stayed.

A week later, maybe two as time began to slip away from me, we celebrated my son’s birthday. His kid got an attitude and put him in a mood. When he came home and started in at me I decided I was sleeping on the couch. A ritual I had become accustomed to.

I can be complicated. I am not the easiest person to live with. I have been all but single my whole life. A boyfriend here or there, but single. I am set in my ways and it is going to take an incredible person to tame me. I am not innocent, but I was never cruel. I was loyal, to a fault. I made mistakes. I got upset at typical things, and made to believe I was crazy. It was not normal. It was not okay.

He confused a story of a deceased friend once saying three years ago and once saying four. I asked, “Was it 3 or 4 years?” He snapped. I had disrespected his dead friend. He yelled at me like I was nothing, in front of my son. I told him I would be gone tomorrow. A threat I had made before but I stayed. “I’m happy you’re leaving. I hope your son doesn’t end up like you. I am glad he is leaving and getting away from you.”

I couldn’t forget. I can’t forget. I wish I could help him. I wish I was strong enough to help him.

This time, I left. Even though I was broken, weak, uncontrollably saddened, and defeated. I left.

Writer’s Note: Those that know me, know who I am writing about. Please do not give him any trouble. There has been so much pain with everything already. I am simply writing to start my healing process. He has another truth, I write mine. 


“There are moments when you fall to the ground, but you are stronger than you feel you are now. You don’t always have to speak so loud. Be as you are.”- Mike Posner “Be As You Are.”

I have been thinking a lot lately about identity. Mostly because the college I work at just put on it’s annual Humanites Festival with “Identity” as it’s theme, but also because some personal life happenings. Who are you? What identity have you chosen for yourself? What are the parts of you that you hide? Why do you hide? HOW do you hide?

The keynote for the festival said something that really stuck with me. She said that you should be who you are and do what you want, as long as you don’t hurt anyone else. You might offend someone, you might make them angry or upset because of who you are and what you do, but as long as you aren’t really hurting them… why not? I could get into a whole lot of philosophical mumbo jumbo here about who gets to say what hurt is, but I will leave that to you. The hurt you leave behind is on you. You decide what that hurt may be.

I am  …


No… I was going to go into all the ways that I identify myself. Really though, it isn’t important. What is important is that everyday I am me, no matter what, without fail. Of course my identity is important to me, but it shouldn’t really matter to anyone else. It is me, and it is for me. How others react to it is on them. How YOU react to someone’s identity is part of your identity. We have to learn to be more accepting of others. We only make ourselves miserable by not doing so. We all have our faults. We all have our demons. We all handle life differently. Some of us drink. Some of us swear. Some of us dance. Some of us smoke. Some of us have anxiety. Some of us don’t. We are all okay exactly as we are, as long as we aren’t hurting anyone.

Find out who you are, who you want to be. Wake up everyday being that or striving to be so. Everything you say and do should be exactly what you want to say and do as you. No shame… as long as you don’t hurt anybody.

BE HAPPY! We only get this one life… as far as we know.

Don’t hide. Ever.

If you find that you are hiding, unless that is part of who you are and who you want to be, then stop. Be exactly as you are.

Just be YOU!

…and if that doesn’t work pretend you are someone else. HA!



“Just know you’re not alone. I’m gonna make this place your home.” —“Home” by Phillip Phillips

Where is home? What is home? How do you find home?

Depending on who who are, the answers to these questions may vary. Most would say that, simply put, home is the place where one lives. Again, depending on who you are, this definition is either simple or complicated. You see, it could be where one resides or it could be where one “lives.” What is living to you?

Instead of trying to guess what you, the reader, considers home, I will instead dive into what home means to me…

I can honestly say that most of my life I never felt home. Everywhere was just a temporary somewhere. I would move, things would change, nothing ever felt like a “happy place.” The closest I ever came to home was staying with my grandparents after one of my mother’s and mine’s infamous throw-downs. My grandma would make up the guest bedroom and set up a spare TV for me. She would make me breakfast for dinner and give me the warmest hugs. She would tell me,”You don’t have to like your mom all the time, but you always have to love her.” That felt like home. I did not reside there. Hell, I didn’t even live there. I was not doing anything that made me feel alive. So, how could that be home? Sometimes, home is a feeling. I felt warm and safe and happy. That is what home means to me.

As an adult, I have found it quite rare for moments to come along where I feel warm and safe and happy. It has been almost 9 years since I made the decision that I wanted my own home. When I had my son, I wanted to provide him with a place that he could always come back to. This place would always have a “Nic” place. If he found himself lost, he could come home. For 9 years I have wanted to settle down and make a stable life for both myself and my son.

…and so I will continue to fight to find it

Learning to Live in Love

“You live, you learn. You love, your learn. You cry, you learn. You lose, you learn. You bleed, you learn. You scream, you learn.” -Alanis Morissette

Every relationship is a learning opportunity, may it be that relationship lasting 7 hours, 7 days, or 7 years. Doesn’t matter. From day one, I’m talking 1st grade here people, I have always fallen hard and fast. I blame Disney. I have always longed for the kind of love you would die for. Sometimes when you think  you have it, it turns out that you were very wrong. It happens. Then you give yourself one night, (or if your me a whole damn week) to cry , get it all out, and get over it. **Times may vary depending on length of relationship and level of fucks given.**

It is hard. I know. I have been the brokenhearted and I have been the heart breaker. Both equally suck if you have any heart whatsoever. This isn’t about that. This is about the take away. You learn something from everything, especially when there is hurt. Just have to decide. Worth it? The Struts sing “I wanna taste love and pain. Wanna feel pride and shame. I don’t wanna take my time. Don’t wanna waste one line. I wanna live better days. Never look back and say, could have been me. It could have been me” Is the lesson worth the knife in your gut when he says he doesn’t feel the same, or worse your heart dying because when he looks at you the love you saw just yesterday wasn’t there?

The answer is suppose to be yes.

The answer is suppose to be I learned.

“All I’ve ever learned from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you.”

I started this blog with a very different attitude. I apologize for the change. No…I apologize if you don’t like the change. The change is because of a heavy heart and I will not apologize for feeling so deeply that it affects all I say, do, and think.

Everything he wants…

“And you’ll be just fine
With all of your time
It’s only what you’re waiting for…” -Vertical Herizon

“Not Janie Briggs. She has glasses and a pony tail!” -Not Another Teen Movie

In the movie they followed with “and don’t forget the paint colored overalls.” Who needs paint covered overalls when you have the mother of all nerdness… braces!

Recently, I put myself back out into the world of dating. Not an exaggeration to call it a world either as it has it’s own set of human rules that not one person has mastered. If you think you have mastered them you are lying to  yourself. I put myself back in and almost instantly re-benched myself. Yep! No thanks! See you later coach! Hasta Luega!

Why would one do such a thing? Enter and immediately withdraw? The reason is a simple one… Humans are absolutely the most insane, unpredictable, dishonest, and cruel beings out there. All it takes is a toe dip in the the water to be reminded of that minor detail and the nice safe bench in the dugout looks like a lovely safe haven. Some people can hang in that kind of environment. Not me. Now, I am not saying that every human inhabits all the afore mentioned adjectives, although there are some that do. For instance, I will gladly confess to you that I know that I am clearly insane (in my own way), as most people are, and I can be a bit unpredictable at times,though mostly I am not. I am, however, honest and always as kind as I can be.

Here is the thing that really has me spinning wheels. It almost seems like the dating environment encourages lies and deceit. “Make ’em fall in love with you and THEN show ’em the crazy (or show ’em the real you).” WHAT-EV-ER! I am going to be exactly who I am. I may die alone, but at least I will never have had to trick someone into being my partner. LAME!

Yes I know exactly what I have to do to get you to be attracted to me. I know the words. I know what to wear. I know how to bat my pretty little eyes. I know how I should look and act to get you to fall for this woman (even if just for the night). Throw a curve ball? It’s okay. I got back-up for that too. You want sex? SEND NUDES>>> WIN!! I KNOW how to get a man.I KNOW how to pretend to be interested in what you’re saying. I just really don’t wanna play that game. I am not saying that every man is after a naked body, but let’s go back to the biological tick of humans. Men are naturally sexual creatures and women are the nurturers. Yea yea yea… women are having their sexual revolution and men are the gentle beasts. Boooooring… it all comes back to our natural instinct of reproduction and keeping the offspring alive.

I know I am not the prettiest, the sexiest, or the smartest. BUT I AM pretty, sexy, and smart. So I don’t worry about me. I will either die alone… YIKES-A-BEE!!… or I will fall in love truly madly deeply…honestly.

I am coming to you after a week where I was “dumped” (we had one date so I wasn’t dumped in the traditional sense…but I liked the guy and I won’t be seeing him again) and I got stood up another night. Rough week right?!? (Side note: If you aren’t into someone…JUST SAY IT!! No excuses! I don’t care if the bitch is crazy…honesty…HONESTLY.) My point is, I will not be everything every one I date is after, and not everyone I date is going to be what I am looking for. Someday, though, I will find what I am looking for and I will be everything he wants…

OR you can find me living in my brother’s basement… crazy aunt woot!