Bibbity Boppity Back the Fuck Up.

It's too bad that the Disney princesses are classified as "children's movies". It really is. Even as an adult, I'll admit they still have a hold on me.

Not the 'damsel in distress' or the 'one true love' or the 'happily ever afters'. That's all cliche and while I'm sure it gets others through, it just isn't my cup of tea. While there are several of the princesses I find compelling, I find myself drawn back to a select few. Ariel, Belle, Mulan, and Meg. While several of the others have similar aspects or struggles, I personally find these three stand out among the rest.

We'll start with Ariel; she's a young, headstrong, restless young girl who feels out of place in her environment. Despite the counsel of everyone around her she's determined to try and stand on her own, to seek the life SHE is most drawn to. The harder anyone tries to hold her back, the stronger her curiosity gets until her father by all rights betrays her by destroying her sanctuary because 'he knows what's best' and ultimately drives her to Ursula. Initially, she knew she couldn't be trusted but felt she had no other choice. Eventually, Ariel's misplaced trust brought hardship to her family, thankfully because it's a Disney production it all worked out in the end. Ariel's actions are not excused as justifiable, but she is met with understanding.

Belle's another misfit. She lives in a small, quiet village where she finds respite from the mind numbing tedium of day to day life in her books. Sweeping tales that carry her far away and give her a glimpse of adventure and life that she doesn't have the opportunity to experience for herself. Because she doesn't meet her community's standards, her village gossips and mocks her because she isn't like everyone else. Gaston, the self- absorbed, narcissistic, popular 'alpha' of the town tries to interact with her, but only in order to appease his own desires. He finds her just as odd as the rest, but she visually satisfies him and WHO she is doesn't matter so long as he gets what he wants out of her. Then, she finds herself living with a 'Beast'. Someone that seems irredeemable, cruel, and completely self absorbed. When it comes down to it, Belle stands up for the 'Beast' because she sees something within him that no one else sees because they can't get past his outward appearance. She helps him grow as a person and rediscover his humanity. Again, she DOES get a happily ever after because, Disney.

Then there's Mulan who continues our theme of misfits. She's another young woman who finds herself out of place and is ridiculed by her village as a result. Even her own parents struggle to force her to conform to what is 'expected' of her. Instead, she forges her own path and in the end proves she was doing the right thing all along. Before she completes this journey she (like Ariel) damages her relationship with her parents, is shunned by her friends, and finds herself at a place where it seems impossible that she will ever be able to have a 'normal' or 'respectable' life again. She ends up with her Disney ending, but only because she fights for it and takes it for herself.

I save Meg for last because she's not technically a princess. She's a young woman who finds herself paying for a poor choice she made to protect someone she loved. She's left with trust issues, insecurities, and yet still has the fortitude to stand by her own code in the end despite doing terrible things along the way. Like Ariel, her actions are never skewed to be justifiable nor are they really excused, she's understandable. The people who love her in the end forgive her because they see her for who she is, not only what she's done.

The really funny thing is, I'm not a minority for having watched Disney films. I'm not even a minority for enjoying them as adult. Unfortunately, when the movie ends and the DVD is put away or the stream is turned off, that seems to be the end of it. It's done.

But Ariel, Belle, Mulan and Meg are all real. They are people you know. They're the misfit in the crowd. They're that person who lashes out in fear of going through the same heart break again. They're that person who goes back to the same 'bad' person again and again because they're hoping they can help them. They're that person at the party who everyone sits watching the 'spectacle' or makes people 'uncomfortable' and becomes the town's gossip for a while after.

The really sad part is, in real life, the town doesn't typically come around. Ariel, Belle, Mulan, Meg, they're stuck floundering on their own. Meg has a tough time reaching out because she doesn't know who she can really trust, and who's just going to make her situation worse. Ariel, Mulan and Belle feel trapped in their lives, anxious because no matter what they do they just don't fit, they can't seem to find a way to measure up to what's expected of them but they can't find the courage to do or go where they WILL be able to flourish.

It's much easier to sit and judge from a place of comfort or success than to try to relate. It's easier to laugh and talk about what a mess someone is than it is to show compassion. It's uncomfortable to see someone hit their breaking point or lose control.

It's not hard to spot someone who doesn't fit into the crowd like Ariel, Belle, or Mulan. It's difficult for Meg to break through her baggage of anxiety and abuse to reach out, much less trust someone else for help. Meg has all those demons and more that she struggles with every day on her own.

I am Ariel. I am Belle. I am Mulan. I am Meg.

I can't sleep at night because my head never stops. I always have a constant replay of the past on loop in my head. Stupid, little, seemingly trifling things in the day can trigger any of them to the surface. I end up lashing out at people who don't honestly deserve it. Typically, I end up suppressing my opinions, curtailing my behavior because I know that who I am and what I think will only earn me further discomfort. I am the girl who has never been who she 'should be'. Who didn't do what was 'expected of her'. I am the girl who never felt like she fit in her own skin. I am the person who has never felt at home, and has always felt a longing for it. None of it has ever changed. I see things in people that others don't, and frequently against better judgement I fight to bring it to the surface. I regret when I get out of hand. I do recognize when I could have handled a situation better. I know my demons. Nights like this are not unusual that I'm up till 5 in the morning.

I am blessed that I have one person who knows ME. Who knows my story, who knows me. All my best qualities and my darkest demons. Someone who I can tell absolutely anything to and not worry about who else it's going to get back to. Someone who always has and always will have my back unconditionally. Who if I admit I am genuinely in trouble will drop everything to get to me, or HAS called in back up if they cannot make it in time. I have a bond that was strong enough to save me from myself. When I found myself at rock bottom depression they pulled me back and supported me until I was myself again. Bullshit is not tolerated, when I am wrong I am wrong and I am not coddled about it. I can be irresponsible, I can be a mess. I am not stupid. I am not a bad person. I am lost, and I WILL be found.

Not everyone has that. Even mine can't be around all the time. Not everyone in a person's life can be there for anyone else like that. The reality of the situation is no one really has to. Understanding. That can be done. Compassion; that's a realistic goal. Stepping down off one's own high horse and seeing what's really going on. Not actively making someone feel out of place. Not degrading a person just because their view or opinion differs from your own. Not being close minded. Trying. Making an effort just to extend a hand.

Life isn't a Disney movie. Not everyone is going to find their happy ending. Every story isn't the same, not every one is going to find the support, acceptance, or just the understanding they need.

Everyone wants to be/find their own Princess; it's rare to find someone who's willing to pull the stick out of their ass and stop being a self absorbed douche bag to make reality any better.

The Other Side of the Story

First of all if you ever read this, I'm truly sorry. I am tired of being painted as the Master Villain of my own story. But as much as it is my story, it was yours first, and hers before yours. Maybe the reason for that is that no one who knew the story was willing to talk about it. It's easier to be the Wicked Queen then to step up, accept your part, and reject any other mantle others would put upon you.

I am breaking that cycle.

It's funny the muses that come to you in the dark in between hours. When you're so completely alone with yourself that you have that chance to pause and reflect at even the quietest whispers your mind utters. Well, tonight here's mine.

For a long time, as long as I can remember even; everyone has always attributed my personality to my mother and ALWAYS with a negative connotation.

"You sound just like your mother"

"Your mother would be proud, did she teach you that?"

But of course my favorite was;

"Your dad didn't beat you hard enough, you're a bitch just like your mother"

The hilarious part is? They all have it wrong. Oh, of course only an asshole would cut your parent down in front of you like that, or try to make you feel lesser for their part of you. But my mother, for all her faults, can only be blamed for the strongest, most resilient parts of me. Sure, we share a similar visage, and my intonations and laugh are reminiscent of my mom. Someone else however, takes the stage for the less appreciated shades of Tia.

Daddy, take a bow.

I don't want anyone to take this the wrong way. I love my Daddy, very dearly. We butted heads harder than anyone, mainly because we shared the same stubborn, willful spirit. But he was, and always will be, my Daddy.

I had a discussion recently about how children are like putty; we shape them from blank forms into who they become. Sure, there's an argument to be made for nature versus nurture, but there is no denying the impact of an environment on a child. Some are going to adapt strongly, whilst others have a weaker adaption.

I was the prior.

Unfortunately, the traits that others hate so strongly are not so much the result of something that was done directly to me, it was adapting to sway events.

For all that I adore and idolize my Father, he was not a perfect man, he had demons who were very known. My Daddy was an addict, his poisons of preference being cigarettes and alcohol. Daddy liked to go to the bar with his "friends" to sit, drink, play pool, listen to music and "relax". He earned it because he worked every day. He got to the point where it was a near every day thing. When he couldn't afford to go to the bar, or they wouldn't run him another tab, he would simply buy a pack of beer or a bottle or two of liquor on his way home. Suddenly when he was low, his "buddies" didn't seem as prolific. Oh how I remember the arguments. Daddy being incoherent and incapable of keeping a straight conversation but too stubborn to acknowledge it and just pressing away at his "point". It didn't matter what you said, you were wrong. There was no reasoning with Daddy. Depending on if was a certain date, or he was particularly angry, anyone tried to stay out of reach.

That's when I learned how to shout, how to not back down, how to flinch. Which parts of the scalp were most sensitive if you pulled one's hair, the most tender parts of a person's face, where on a throat to grab. I learned how to bite back tears, how to be cold.

But as I said, that was the exception, not the rule. I loved my Daddy. I wanted him home, I wanted to ride my bike with him, and play catch, practice with swords, wrestle, watch Tarzan and Charlie Chan. I wanted to sit up all night watching the classic Hammer Horror flicks, and listen to the stories he told that he truly believed were true. Daddy was my best friend, and I wanted him home with me not out with people who were only friends with him so long as they could use him.

I just had to convince him.

I tried a million different wordings of a million different phrases. I changed my tones and expressions and found out what worked and what didn't. I knew I had to be careful not to "sound like my mother" because he always stopped listening when he thought I did. I was thrilled when it worked, and crushed when it didn't. I can honestly say there's no feeling worse than when the person you care about most picks someone or something over you. Especially if it's a something. Some of my biggest trauma came from knowing I was an option to someone else. It twists your sense of self-worth. What's so wrong with you that you're less important. Should you have said or done something differently? Maybe you really just aren't that important. There are few pains that exceed that of a child who knows their parent chooses to be absent. I hated the people and things Daddy chose over me. I became resentful, suspicious, even apathetic to most people. You're only worth what they can get from you, the minute you don't benefit them they disappear. Gods, do I hate people. So superficial and greedy.

Then while I was in the tender molding hands of school I learned the terrible effects of my Daddy's other love: smoking. Once again, I put my skills of persuasion (my soon to be ex-husband likes the word manipulation) to work to try to get my Daddy to quit. I was terrified that eventually I was going to lose the most important person in my life to smoking. It didn't work. Once again, Daddy's substances were more dear to him than I was. Deeper crept in the guilt. Why couldn't I get Daddy to understand? What if I just explained it differently, tried harder?

It got oh so much worse later. The birthday I'll never forget. Too bad no wish could blow out that candle.

But by that time of course I'd found someone else I loved. Someone who I realized too late I was drawn to because they reminded me of Daddy. The good times were so amazing, but the cycle continued. It continued for a long time. I gave birth to my daughter, and son. I began to hear how much my daughter reminded everyone of me, and saw myself looking at me through her eyes.

It was unacceptable. So, I made the decision my mother couldn't; I stepped off the wheel. I can't say I saved him any more than I did Daddy, though I don't think that path is going to end in the same blaze; but I did free myself. I spent months in my own head, avoiding everyone, hitting the reset as it were. I reconnected with an old friend who helped jar a few other things into place.

Then, when I wasn't really quite ready, I started down a new path. Hopefully I find this one more pleasant, but at least I know to look for familiar road signs.

More to the point, I am not a direct product of my mother. It is my belief that she and I (possibly my Nana and Great Nana as well) are all products of the same man, carried over through generations as unfinished business. I'm simply accepting that sometimes people have to save themselves.

~Night Rose

Trips, motives, and musings.

It's funny how fast time passes. For how quickly time seems to fly by the fleeting moments can contain a lot of events. It seems like I just updated this blog yesterday yet when I look at my last post it was over a year ago. A lot has happened since that yesterday, yet I didn't seem to document any of it.

Here's the thing about this blog- I only update it when I have something to say. For the main reason that the majority of the people I know wouldn't give two shits about the things I post about here. Mainly because the majority of people I know don't really care period. I'm surrounded by facades. Everyone thinks they're so clever; no one could possibly know about their dispassion for everything.

I do.

For example, recently I shared this little slice of myself with two of the people I consider closest to me. I didn't really think the subjects I wrote about here would be overly interesting to either of them, but I wanted to share myself. And while the subjects of the posts may not be interesting, they definitely offer another insight into the insanity that is me.

One of them disappointed me. Badly. It takes a lot of trust for me to share with anyone. Any little piece I give is typically later used for pain, humiliation, or a mix of the two. It takes a lot for me to really share with anyone. I can't say I was surprised by the reaction; but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

...and the other surprised me. Genuinely. I'm still working through their reaction. While I don't think they read it (although I was told it was bookmarked) they thanked me for it. It caught me off guard. Honestly, that particular person does that quite a bit. While the first makes grand gestures to show that I'm "important" (on occasion, when it's convenient) the second does weird, little, every day things. The thing about grand gestures is, they're SUPPOSED to stand out. That's the whole point behind them. They're a means to an end.

Those little gestures though, the mindless ones, those typically show who a person really is. One can say whatever they want but it's the little things they do that show the truth. Concern, compassion, companionship. Even the silly jokes. Interest in unimportant details of a day.

The whole motive may not be clear,  but this trip certainly has given me time for reflection.

~Night Rose

Rememberance and Tolerance

Tonight I will be explaining the significance of tomorrow to my children. Aaron's taking a field trip to a Fire Station to pay respects to firefighters, and Erica's been asked to wear Red, White and Blue.

I will be explaining to them that a group of people sought to bring fear to our country. They wanted to hurt others in order to demonstrate their dedication to what they believed. That many, many innocent people died. And I will be telling them of the brave souls who sacrificed themselves in a Pennsylvania field to ensure they did not become weapons at well. I will tell them of how this one terrible event unified our country, and stoked the flame of patriotism.

I will explain to them that this was done by Terrorists. I will, unfortunately, have to explain to them that many generalize these Terrorists with the term Muslims. For my children, the idea of a Muslim is their aunt, who colors with them and spoils them rotten. Already today my feed is alight with anti-Islamic memes but to blame the actions of a few radicalists on an entire culture is wrong. That is like blaming the picketing of soldier's funerals on ALL Christians rather than on the Westboro Baptists. I'm pretty sure any Christian would be offended to be associated in such a manner, just like my children would hate to see their aunt's people slandered for a crime they did not commit. I am glad that I can teach my children tolerance, and I hope I am not alone.

Remember the Victims and Heroes of 9/11, may they rest in peace and may we who carry their memories do so in honor.

~Night Rose

So... the last post was heartfelt and moving... time for the controversial one.

Well, here it goes.

I'm not Christian.


I support Gay Marriage


I do not support religious advertising, in any form, in a common public forum from ANY religious cult/sect/organization/commune/etc. The ONLY flags that should be displayed in any public place are the flags of Country, State, the P.O.W. flag, or the flag affiliated the location or the company operating it.


No one whether individual or assembly should have the power to condone or ratify actions which cause permanent damage to our planet or its resources. We do not own the planet, it is on loan from our children and it's their throats we slit every time such a decision is made.


Oh, you're still reading. Now we get into the good stuff.


Lately, religious slogans and icons have been being pulled from government buildings and schools. Changes are being made that give religion less influence over the country en masse and limiting overall exposure, particularly with the Christian sects. I have to admit, when this started I let out a breath of relief. Sure, for a little while there was a spike in Pastor Bob trying to "save" you outside your local convenience store, but there was a lessening in the awkward "No, I don't go to church" or "No, my children have no idea who Jesus Christ is except that it's an exclamation of severe frustration" conversations. I was nervous about ever having to testify in court and being made to swear an oath over a Christian bible- 'cause there's no better way to prove your trustworthiness than to lie by swearing to some book you don't give a rat's ass about. Now, a person goes in and it's a reflection of their character, not their religious affiliation. Personally, we've finally come to a time where you aren't allowed to play favorites and give one religious organization more liberties than another, and you don't have to participate in archaic religious practices if they're not your own. You don't have to be wonder if you're going to be tried by the standards of a system that is not your own. You are an American Citizen within the great melting pot of the world- everyone has the same footing. No one gets extra cookies because they follow the same translation of a book that has literally HUNDREDS of different versions, and the majority of the followers of those different versions can't get along with one another but they all want THEIR religion to run the country. Yep. Makes sense to me...

The best part is, they're playing the victim card. "Removing God from schools is the reason for this country's problems", "Gay marriage is damning this country to Hell", pretty much if it isn't influenced by the big J.C. (provided he's the savior of your sect) it's going to send us all into the spiraling infernal praise the lord amen.

Wait a second, "someone else" is responsible for all our woes as a country? Anyone not with the "In Crowd" is lesser? Propaganda that paints differing beliefs and practices as unnatural and dangerous? Heil dem Führer!


...sorry about that, had a flashback to 1930's Germany, during the rise of xenophobia. They thought that the Jews, Polish, Gypsies, and pretty much anyone NOT of the superior German bloodline was to blame for the suffering their country endured after WWI. Now we have a much easier scapegoat. Anyone not willing to have their lives run by a church OR is not completely satisfied with their role as clearly defined to them in one of the versions of the Bible. ESPECIALLY if they are misguided enough to think God sent them down in the wrong form, or find love in a form not clearly outlined by said book.

Speaking of, Gay Marriage. That's another fun one. "Gays shouldn't be allowed to marry because it goes against God's will."

First of all, didn't G give man FREE will? As in, the choice to do as pleases him? According to the whole Adam and Eve story, G pretty much kicked our race out for being disobedient punks anyway. Eventually he came around and killed his own son to punish the race for their misdeeds, and make it so everyone can go back to the party someday. Sounds like he's already admitted he can be a bit of a prick. So, if he was wrong about that subject of free will, and has made mistakes before, what are the chances they weren't made all over the place? And in gruesomely  punishing his own kid (sick, by the way) he tried to make amends for the mistakes that hadn't come to light yet?

Even if the man up stairs does care about what gender a person finds themselves attracted to, the loyal followers made Marriage such a socioeconomic factor, that it really isn't a matter of religion any more. Between tax laws, inheritance laws, insurance practices, custody laws, and all the other areas where marriage status has a direct impact, it really has become an issue of state. Not everyone gets "married" in the Christian custom. Some people just go to the Justice of the Peace and sign some papers. Congratulations, you just signed half of everything you have and are to someone. Hope they're trustworthy. Given that "Gay" love has been recognized as something that exists within our country, how on a legal level does any church feel they have any right to object that they be allowed to be as miserable as the rest of us? For that matter, what makes you think that NOT allowing "Gays" to marry is going to solve anything? They're not going to stop being "Gay" just because they aren't given the same freedoms as everyone else. They're still going to bump uglies, but now on top of being gay it's going to be adultery as well. But at least Marriage is held sacred for people like Linda Wolfe.

In all seriousness though- what real impact does ANY of this have on the life of the average American Christian? Your obnoxious Gay neighbors aren't going anywhere just because you won't let them marry, your Holy Book itself bans religious icons, yet you throw fits to keep them in place. It makes no sense.

Just my opinion, but at least it's out in the open.


~Night Rose

Sea Glass

We all come into this world as beautiful glass bottles- filled to the brim with wonderful goodness to share with the world. Some are sweet, some are bitter, and some are utterly intoxicating. Some give you a sugar rush, and some get better with age.

And some are drained well before their time. Misused, and left broken to try and piece themselves together. Lamentable, mere shards of their original splendor. They cannot imagine being loved as the shards they now are, and wonder if perhaps that is their own fault. People walk by the shards without a second glance, or throw them away as worthless garbage.

But some, a very lucky few, find their way to the sea. Over many years (it averages 20-30 years) they are churned and tumbled with the waves and sand of the ocean. They lose their inherent shine, their smooth surface and take on a frosted finish and appear to glow from deep within.

When the time is right, the sea returns the glass to the beach. Now, the same passerby who would not spare a glance or tossed them aside notice them. They are rare, coveted. They are Sea Glass. Despite humble beginnings, and tragic circumstances they have been remade into something even more beautiful than before.

But they could not have become as they are now were it not for the original hardships, were they not broken they could not have been swept away with the tide. Had they not been reduced to shards, they could not have become jewels.

We are not broken, we are not lost, we are not wrong. We are sea glass. We are who we are. Not everyone can appreciate the same beauty, some eyes are blinded by the inner glow. We were not created to thrive in a controlled environment. We are beautiful as we are, and do not require refinishing.

Remember your inner peace, recognize your unique beauty, remember your own strength. You were tumbled by waves, the fury of the ocean herself could not reduce you. As you were broken, now you are whole. You are no longer a shard- you are a gem of the sea. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Too often, we allow our worth to be measured by the rules of others. Their opinions, their standards. To the average person, a broken bottle is garbage. Because it no longer serves their purpose, it is without value. It cannot sit on a shelf and be beautiful, it can no longer hold beverages. Its original value is gone. However, there are rare people. They comb the beach in the spring and during low tides looking for sea glass. They appreciate the unique beauty that can only come from being broken, churned, and re-emerging. 

Many people prefer to use the metaphor of turning into a butterfly. But a caterpillar begins life with the expectation that they will go through metamorphosis and gain their beautiful wings. They do not struggle, they simply fulfill what is expected of them. A glass bottle, on the other hand, is never expected to be anything more than what it is expected to be; a vessel. When its time as a vessel is spent the bottle is discarded. Becoming Sea Glass exceeds that expectation, and takes an entirely unexpected path to do so. It is beauty beyond original purpose, and as such is something to be admired.

~Night Rose

To My Younger Siblings' New "Dad"

Part of me has dreaded your arrival, imagined the pain it would cause
Hearing them call for Daddy and for me to turn to find you.
Knowing that you will sit in attendance of their achievements
With our mother it will be you who helps guide them to adulthood.
It will be you who stands in when they go astray or falter
Likely, it will be you who takes pictures
As they walk down the aisle to that hard-earned diploma

It will be you who reminds upstart boys of their manners
And the type of  young women my sisters were raised to be.
It will be you who helps with my younger brother
As he and my mother travel his hard road
Likely, it will be you who walks them down the aisle
And has the honor of that sacred paternal dance.

It will be you, who they refer to as Dad.

For me it will be a reminder of what HE would have done.
What he would have said, what he would have felt.
A reminder of the glowing pride he had from their first days.
A reminder of all the things he looked forward to
And the Daddy they never knew.
I can't help it, he was the one there for me.

I don't say this to cause you pain
Nor to make you feel guilty for the place you now hold.
I love my siblings, with all my heart.
And they deserve SOMEONE, I think it could be you
It's what he would have wanted too.

But please, this one thing I ask;
Remember the honor of the name.
It's a heavy weight, and should not lightly be taken.
For all its perks, it is a heady responsibility

To me, he was the best there ever was and cannot be replaced.
For them, I hope you can make the absence less.
There will be times it is difficult
And you might wonder what you were thinking
They ARE teenagers, and will have their moments.
I pray they are more tame than were mine.

I have dreaded your arrival, I doubt it will ever not hurt.
But, even if their Dad is not our Daddy
I am glad they will have your support, your guidance
I am glad they will have you.
If I seem moody, remember my perspective, take no offense.
I wasn't ready to lose MY Daddy
But, for them, "Dad" has become synonymous
With you.

~Night Rose