WHY IT SUCKS BEING ME…

WHY IT SUCKS BEING ME…

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“I yam what I yam and dats all what I yam”
― Popeye the Sailor Man

We are born pure and fresh. Then we learn how to communicate to get fed and changed. Our personalities come with us as we learn to navigate our environment, our genetics, our society, our diet, our culture. All the things that make us who we are. We become adults and then through all the good and bad that brought us to that point we have to be responsible for being who we are. We are held up to a standard to be functioning, contributing citizens, aka, grown-ups. What? Was it easier screaming for food? All stages count.

I came for a rambunctious family in Orange County California. It was an all American, law abiding, church going family. Where was Norman Rockwell? We played with neighbors and did not have to be afraid of wandering off, or the Boogie Man. I grew up in a safe environment, I was lucky. A variety of childhoods is a varied as life itself, that was just mine.

Yet I turned out to be me, for better or worse. I can hijack conversations; I can be overly sensitive to words. I am far too impulsive. I often times procrastinate that which is uncomfortable. (Who doesn’t?) I can go to dark places, only to curl up into myself. My brain skips over words, I lean towards being dyslexic. I have made some questionable choices in respect to love and life’s directions. Yet at the end of the day I am still here. I have to look at my little self with as much grace as my future self and as much as my today.

I have an unequivocal belief that I can do and finish what I set out to do. I am determined and forever optimistic. I believe that life is on my side and that I can help others through my words. I feel wholeheartedly that we all have gifts and can make one another better. I can trust very easily, I try to lead with my heart. I may be naïve but I am okay with that.

The irony is, I offer love advise and I am twice divorced. I have written a book, flunked as a senior in high school English writing, oh an and I cannot spell. I have found a wonderful partnership in middle age. If as first…try, try, again.

Nothing is out of reach. No heart calling or goals are too late. If you can hear the voice of your heart that calls you, listen. The only failure is being fearful of trying. But at this time in life I would say push towards your dreams, or don’t. Whatever you do it is your life and you will be you at the beginning, middle, and end of your day.

I am a Louise Hay fan. She led a remarkable life. She self-published her first published book was when she was sixty! She ended up with the largest publishing company in the country. One of her books introduced me to mirror work. It sounds silly but I dare you to try. You may find it hard or awkward. You look yourself in the mirror in the morning and say “I love you, I really love you”. Wow. Easy? I found it painful and I felt shy at first. Getting in touch with who you are good, bad, and work in progress, it can be powerful.

The problem with being me? Nothing, and everything. I have to daily work on listening, grace and uplifting communication. Every day starts out mistake free. What will we do with Ground Hogs Day, another chance?

The me in me wrote a book about my love journey to share with you. Please join me in this adventure we call life and read my book “A Man for Every Purposed My Naked Journey Searching for Love”. Buy the book read the book, life is now!

Feel free to contact me via email at: KatieLLindley@sexlovemantra.com

I look forward to hearing from you, happy reading. Enjoy the you that you are.

My Mantra: “I am blessed to be able to share myself and my journeys”

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2018-06-07T03:16:30+00:00

About the Author:

Tink, Katinka, KatieKate, Mamu. All names given to me depicting the many hats I wear. Although I would like to say I am organized, focused and cookie-cutter, that simply would not be me. I am no different than any other single woman in the world. I love to love, love hard, and, in the end, have learned to love myself above all else. So here I am, writing about the many men and the multiple purposes they have served in my life. I have realized not one man on my roster has fulfilled every single one of my needs. Perhaps one man is not supposed to? I have compiled snippets of the men that have entered my world. In the end, they have shoved me towards my bathroom mirror, forcing me to take a better look at myself.