chey being

For my untempered heart


A key, a whistle and a Post-it.

Flash Fiction Writing Challenge:

I sat at the table in our small hallway of a kitchen.  It’s the kind of table you’d find in a dusty diner somewhere off Highway 50.  A place time had long forgotten.  I was lost in thought for what seemed like hours until my eyes decided to focus across the room onto the cheap vinyl that was curling at the edges.  Even the floor was trying to escape this place.  I gently tapped the table with the key I had been gripping.  I swear I had a metallic taste in my mouth just from holding it.  My eyes wandered up the wall to watch the whistle on a string.  It was hanging on a nail and just barely swaying back and forth from the fan above.  The fan that had a thick layer of dust clinging for dear life on each tired blade.  The whistle was red for Dodge Ball Wednesday’s.  Today was Tuesday.  He’s a gym teacher at a middle school.  He thinks he’s such hot shit.  He lived for Wednesday’s.  I could just picture his pastie white skin contorting as he yells and blows that stupid whistle.  His face always seems to have a sweaty gleam to it that grosses me out.   I turn to my tapping hand and see a lone blank Post-it stuck to the marbled laminate.  It mocks me.  There is nothing here for me.  Could leaving be as easy as peeling this small piece of paper off the table?  I set the key on the Post-it.  The screen door makes a high-pitched groan behind me.  It sounded almost…happy.


Photo Courtesy of Flickr


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Sharing Stories

I am very happy to present below, a guest blogger!  Dear Claire has been very generous in sharing her story and allowing me to post it here on my blog.  Please be sure to check out her beautiful blog where she is “Saving the planet, one green tip at a time.” 


I have had the recent pleasure of taking part in the course.  One of the unexpected bonuses of participating is that I’ve discovered bloggers all around the world who write on such a variety of topics.  Chey Being caught my attention as a fellow blogging student as she writes on a slightly different topic to most ‘divorce’.

My divorce isn’t something I’ve written about in public before but reading Chey Being has given me the confidence to do so.

Back in 2005 I was going through a very rough time in my life having just lost my two grandparents who brought me up and Richard was there to comfort me.  The relationship very quickly progressed and we were living together within only a few weeks and engaged within a few months.  I’m quite an introvert really and find relationships quite difficult and so Richard was in fact my first real relationship so I was swept away.

By 2008 we had our first beautiful child together and were pressured by then by his parents to get married as they didn’t like us being unmarried parents.  To be honest, we nearly split up just before I found out I was pregnant as I found out Richard was exchanging explicit sexual text messages with another much younger woman.  However, with a baby on its way and my confidence being incredibly low I decided to let the text messages go and give Richard another chance.

Fast-forward to the Summer of 2009 we finally got married.  People say the day of your wedding should be the happiest day of your life, well mine wasn’t.  I had niggling doubts in the days leading up to the wedding but I assumed these were just nerves about the day, I wasn’t allowed to invite my family and friends as Richard didn’t get on with them but again he made me believe this was normal; in fact I hadn’t had any contact with my  own family and friends since he decided he didn’t like them.

My wedding day basically involved me looking after our daughter and him getting drunk with his friends.  Not a great start!

Within two years of being married, Richard had an affair and he had signed up to numerous sex chat websites.  I gradually learned to realise that Richard was being increasingly emotionally abusive towards me, he was forever putting me down, banning me from contacting people, shouting at me and verbally abusing me.  My confidence and self-esteem were at an all time low.

I eventually got admitted to a psychiatric hospital as I tried to take my own life things were that bad.

During recovery, I joined an internet forum for a hobby I have.  Over the space of a few months I built up a wonderful friendship with an American that changed my life.  Tom is a few years younger than I am, but we instantly clicked on the site, initially we just commented on each others posts and shared the occasional joke.

Gradually and I mean very slowly we started to private message each other and I confided in him about my situation.  Tom did an incredible job of rebuilding my confidence, made me feel respectable again and eventually gave me the confidence to leave my husband.  Finally I was free of him and it felt wonderful.  I’ll never forget the feeling of it just being me and my daughter int he house and the feeling of happiness washing over me.  Of course I would still have to deal with him for our daughter’s sake but I no longer had to spend time on my own with him.  It was only now that I realised how terrified I was of him.  My daughter also settled too, she was much happier as she could see me in a much more relaxed way; we played like we hadn’t really played before.

So, now nearly two years after I kicked him out, we’ve both moved on.  He still has regular contact with our daughter and I wouldn’t take that away from her, I have a choice who I’m married to she doesn’t have a choice who her Daddy is.

Tom and I stayed in touch and slowly built up a trans-Atlantic relationship.  We’ve met up in person lots of times through the two years and he makes me feel like no-one else has ever done.  He understands me, brought back my smile, he supports me, treasures me and makes me feel like the most special person in the world.  Hopefully one day in the future he’ll actually live over here in the UK with me as I can’t imagine things any other way 🙂

So I’d like to thank Chey Being for giving me the confidence to write about my divorce as it’s actually one of the best things that has happened to me!

Thanks for reading, here is where I normally blog:



This was my thought process the other day when I signed up for Facebook.  Maybe you’ll get a chuckle.

Is my fear of Facebook natural?  Some people have a paralyzing fear of flying and crashing to the ground; well, my fear of Facebook is pretty close.  As some of you may know, I just started my blog and joined Twitter this year.  These were reeeeally BIG steps for me.  To throw myself out there publicly was not easy.  I still struggle with my fears.  What are my fears?  I’m sharing many private details of my past in hopes of helping others, but I do not want my family involved.  I have children of Google age!   I also fear being judged by those close to me.  I’ve been there, done that, wish not to repeat.

I tend to be very distrusting of people, which further fuels my paranoia.  Admittedly, I often imagine the worst in people until proven otherwise.  Either my expectations are too high or I’ve been around  a lot of losers.  I think it’s the first one.  Not to mention, I am getting tired of everyone asking me if I am on Facebook (Related post here).  Can we not come up with better questions to propagate future communication?  For example, “I’ll call you!”  Or, let’s get really hi-tech, “I’ll text you and we’ll meet for lunch next week.”   I feel like a two year old, stamping their little feet because they don’t want to do something.  It is ridiculous.  I’m actually sweating right now with the thought of signing up.  Now, I’m laughing at myself.  Screw it!  I’ll be right back.

Ok, instead of the two year old throwing a temper tantrum, I am now the awkward teenager succumbing to peer pressure.  Obviously, I have some issues to deal with.  I feel defeated.  I feel invaded.  Do I now ask you to follow me on Facebook?  This is so dumb.



Photo Courtesy of Flickr


May I have your attention, please?

Hello all you beautiful people!

As some of you may know, I joined WP’s Blogging 201 a week ago (One more week to go!).  It has been really awesome and really difficult, all at the same time.  I am learning so much!  It has given me the much needed push into social media and in that regard, let’s just pretend this OMG is in like, 72 Font Size.  That is why I have been a bit absent as well.  I’ve also been making changes to the look of my blog (it’s so purdy!) and I have gone through a few name changes, settling on Chey Being, as you may have noticed.

Anyway, I would like to throw out my Twitter and Facebook links to anyone interested.  If you are, that’s cool.  If not, I’ll still think you’re pretty cool 😉  Thanks so much for you’re support.  I couldn’t ask for a better bunch of invisible friends!




Not So Great Expectations Challenge

I bought my first lotto ticket the other day.  I honestly expected to win.  I did not, which is why I am sitting here writing this post.  I still expect to win even though I haven’t purchased another ticket.

Had I won, I would expect not much to change.  I would expect to make a few splurges, like new kitchen counter tops would be nice.  After my children finish college, paid for with my winnings of course, I would expect to travel.

I also expect to be divorced again by this time so I must also expect to find a travel partner.  I would expect to get chubby from enjoying all the foreign cuisine and lack of exercise.  I would expect to visit all the places I have always dreamed of seeing.  I would expect to see the Great Wall of China, the Louvre in Paris, and the Coliseum in Rome, just to name a few.

I would expect to get bored eventually.  I would expect to grow weary of all the self-gratification.  I would expect to want something more meaningful.  I would expect to end up back home.  I would expect to still be searching for my purpose.

Maybe this is why I did not win the lotto.  Even though that is what I wanted, the universe knew that winning is not what I needed.  I must dream of greater expectations.

But it would make for a lovely detour, don’t you think?

Great Expectations Writing Challenge


Image: flickr

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She came home with Froot Loops

I have two specific memories of a pivotal time during my childhood.  I grew up in a home where we had home cooked meals every night.  This was normal back in my day.  We never had pop, sugared cereals, white bread, or the typical junk food.  This was a time before fast food restaurants lined the streets and eating out was common place.  My parents weren’t strict health nuts or anything, my mom just knew that certain foods were not all-together natural.

My dad was a big cereal fan so this was our usual breakfast growing up.  We always had some variety of bran flakes, shredded wheat and granola.  This may explain why I knew something was horribly wrong the day I saw a box of Froot Loops sticking out of the grocery bag my mom had brought home.  I remember the feeling of panic, but I don’t remember if I asked her specifically why she had brought home this forbidden fruit.  I do remember that it was the very same day she sat me down on the window seat in the family room to talk.  She told me that her and my father were thinking of getting a divorce.  This was very uncommon back then but I imagine the feeling is still the same for any child.  I only remember crying, pleading, and feeling scared.

My mother never mentioned it again and I never asked.  I always felt the detachment my mother had for my father.  I always felt she would have rather been some place else.  She was unhappy and I knew it, but she kept our family together.  Years later, as I had grown into a young adult, she told me she would not leave my dad until after he received his retirement.  She felt she was somehow owed this for her time and suffering.  However, by that time she felt too old to start life over.  It took over ten years later for her to decide it was time to live her life as she wants to live it.  She is now leaving my father (I talk more about this in another post, Grow old along with me?)

For a long time I carried a certain amount of guilt, thinking that I was the reason my mother stayed.  I have also carried a great sadness because it made me feel unwanted.  Perhaps, I was the cause.  Perhaps, my reaction on that fateful day was the deciding factor on how my mother was to spend her next 30 years.  Ultimately, it was her decision and I can not take responsibility for it.  My mother did teach me something however.  She taught me that I never want to live the life she lived.  Unfortunately, I have somehow landed in her footsteps.

On a lighter note, maybe the real lesson to be learned here is never try to bribe a child with Froot Loops.



A word about the word, Conscious.

Google defines conscious as, aware of and responding to one’s surroundings; awake.

The word “conscious” has been in the media quite a bit recently since Gwyneth Paltrow (famous actress) announced her “Conscious Uncoupling.” Seven years ago, I began to write my thoughts about my path to divorce and titled it, My Conscious Journey to Divorce (which I also use in my blog). When I heard the phrase that Paltrow used to describe her separation, it made me very happy; I could really understand the meaning behind it. Then, much to my surprise, immediately following the announcement, Paltrow was ridiculed for how she came forth with her news. Now, I understand that she has a certain “goody two-shoes” reputation, and thus every move she makes is seen through this lens. However, I find it incredibly sad. Here is someone who is actually divorcing SMART! I believe her phrase tells the world that she and her husband are making a conscious effort to do right by everyone. They are not letting emotions run the terms of their separation. This decision should be praised, talked about in high regard, and emulated. How wonderful this is for the children! And no, you don’t have to be rich to emulate another person’s actions.

After my ex and I told our children we were divorcing, I lived at home for the six months it took for our divorce to finalize. It spoke volumes to our children. They were extremely frightened because they did not know what was going to happen, but their world did not immediately change. They were able to adjust to the idea without having to adjust to ten other things at the same time. They could see that their mom and dad could treat each other respectfully even though they were no longer going to be married. I believe this was instrumental in my children adjusting so well from my divorce. Was it easy? Of course not. But we were doing everything we could do make it as easy as possible for them. We made a conscious effort in separating to help our children through it. I also came to decide upon divorce in a conscious manner. That is so important. I will talk about this further as I continue my posts on my journey (see below).

I understand that everyone’s situation is unique and we all have a story. I simply want to create awareness. How conscious are you? Are you letting your emotions rule your life? As the word conscious is defined, are you awake?

In the beginning..

My Decent.

A secret life..