She sighs as she examines her naked body in the mirror. She was getting older, and it was showing.

Her perfect perky 18-year-old breasts are now sagging- pulled down from the weight of mothers’ milk.
Her days of going braless were over.

Her hips were rounder, widened by childbirth. Too wide for her favorite kilt, the one that drove her lover wild. Yet, some things are worth the trade-off, as she examines the hourglass her body has become and smiles.

I like quotes, and recently, I found the following in an old notebook, so I thought I would share.

“Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who tells you differently is selling something.” Princess Bride (Wesley to Buttercup)

“Our repetitive thoughts become our beliefs and life has a way of delivering experiences that match our beliefs” Guy W. Shilts, Jr. (In his book Guy’d Lines: Rules for Living from my 30 years as a Psychotherapist) He was also one of my Internship supervisors.

I found this one last night, and it resonated with me.
"The biggest coward is a man who awakens a woman's love without the intention of loving her." Bob Marley

I also like to write down words that I find interesting:    
Solipsistic: A theory in philosophy that your own existence is the only thing that is real or can be known (Adjective)

I know I have not been posting much. In truth, I have been going through somethings, and the words I normally post here either are not coming or are to personal that I’m not ready to share. I thank you for your continued support. Knowing that at least one person is taking the time to read what I write is enough. I like to write, mostly because I feel unheard most of the time. I’m working on changing this to become healthier and more confident in the fact that I matter. (Everyone does)

~Jodie Nicole~

Still the one that very few see.

There is always another shining next to me.

I treasure the ones who actually do see,

the light that shines inside of me.

~JN~

Abuse is a cycle that is difficult to break. Especially when you share children with your abuser, you still need to maintain some level of contact.

It’s more difficult when the abuse seems to end with you. They move on, get remarried, and you watch them praised for being a good husband, father, etc., on social media, and you wonder what’s wrong with you. Why could they not be those things with you? Then there is the wonder, “Did I make up those things?” “Turn them into a villain?” “Were things not as bad as I had thought?”

Yet you still have the memories of people’s response, unkindness, when you forgot to apply cover-up to the handprints on your neck, or your daughter asking why there is a hole in the wall the size of the top of your head.

You try to forget, blame yourself, move forward. Yet the necessary contact, due to sharing children, brings it all back even if it’s just visceral.

Breaking the cycle is a must, and it starts with you learning to love and accept yourself, which is probably the hardest thing of all.

~Jodie Nicole~

His mouth is on mine before I could think to pull away.

His embrace tight, his hands on my chest, welcomed.

I have the privilege.

The knowledge that I have access to something that millions of people do not.

The knowledge that getting it means that someone else will not.

The want to ride out the storm, my immunity intact, nothing extra added. For I have had no reason to get tested.

Yet with privilege comes responsibility.

Voice of reason, drowned out by their screams.

Screams of injustices

Of entitlement lost,

By their taskmaster’s voice. As he plays with his “crown” in his oval office.

They follow his voice, and scale the Capitals walls.

They smile with glee as they loot the symbols of Democracy.

Entitled tourists, disrespecting for the “ultimate selfie”

I knew it was not going to happen

So, I did not get my hopes up.

Yet, why does it still sting to be right?