A chance to forget
and start anew
A change in tactic
begin once more.
A chance to forget
and start anew
A change in tactic
begin once more.
This morning, I signed a petition on https://www.change.org/p/uk-home-office-deny-julien–blanc-a-uk-visa to ban Julien Blanc (a professional ‘Pick up Artist’) from entering the UK.
I had never heard of this man but was horrified to read more about him.
Julien Blanc classes himself as a pick up master, able to seduce and lure any women into bed. He is not charming nor does he woo with romantic or genuine methods. No, instead, he encourages men (who pay over £1000 to take his seminars) to use force, derogatory comments and any means possible to have sex with whoever they want.
He has been denied entry and had his Visa revoked from Australia after they realised how shady and disturbing his message was. Now the UK government needs to do the same. This man (and I use that term lightly) has tour dates coming up in the UK. It is bad enough as it is in this climate. I and many thousands of women have had to endure sexual harassment from idiotic men who believe they can say what they want, anywhere at any time.
It happens every day and we, as women, are made to feel guilty or rude or stiff if we dare to say ‘No’ or worse. We become “pathetic” and “miserable” because we can’t take their ‘compliments’. Well telling me that my bum is “good enough to take a bite from” and then gnashing your teeth together menacingly, is NOT a compliment. Or making kissing noises as I walk by you six months pregnant is NOT a compliment.
Domestic violence, rape and sexual harassment are as prominent now as ever.
Julien Blanc is giving these inbred men a reason, a justification to their obscene behaviour.
PLEASE! Do not allow this man into the UK.
Go to change.org and stop sexual predators like this doing what the hell they like.
WEEKS: 22 and counting!
BUMP: No change from the last couple of weeks although the comments from strangers and parents at work are beginning to make me feel slightly whale-like (!)
CRAVINGS: Heinz Tomato Soup, white bread, blackberries, cherries, Wagamamas (a Japanese noodle restaurant)
CURRENT HEALTH: Below average, after suffering from a head cold and cough this weekend. It’s still persisting with a rotten, dry and irritating cough sitting comfortably on my chest and playing with my Asthma. Not. Happy.
MOVEMENT: Still little flutters now and again. No significant kicks but only on week 22 now. Reacts to certain music e.g. Adele, The Bangles and recently discovered – Motown.
SIZE: Baby is now apparently the size of a large Papaya and roughly the length of a standard ruler.
SYMPTOMS: Annoying leg cramps first thing in the morning aren’t fun. No back ache yet. Slight carpal tunnel occurs frequently in my right arm and wrist, that is possibly the most uncomfortable thing going on at the moment. Loss of appetite at lunch still happens. Bad sleeping – but possibly due to head cold. Will wait that one out.
COMING UP: 5 WEEK SCHOOL HOLIDAY!!!!! 2 weeks to go. I CANNOT wait.
It only takes a year
just twelve months,
for you to change your mind.
With no reason I can find
It only takes that long.
It only takes that long,
just twelve months,
for your loyalty to dissipate.
For you to demonstrate,
that our friendship has gone.
Our friendship has now gone,
in just twelve months,
you are like a stranger to me.
It is what you wanted to be
in this year that has gone by.
In this year that has gone by,
in just twelve short months,
Our lives move side by side.
Yet you have just denied
me from even talking to you.
I cannot even talk to you,
these past twelve months.
Your distance is surprising,
suspicions are arising,
it’s only been one year.
It’s only been one year
just twelve little months,
and I feel like it’s been a waste,
that time can’t be erased.
That you have left me with regret.
Why leave me with regret?
In these last twelve months?
Why hurt me so easily?
Or treat me so sleazily?
You had choices at the start.
You had a choice at the start,
before these past twelve months,
if I wasn’t as you had hoped,
I think I would have coped,
without you in my life.
I would not class myself as manipulative since finding out what this kind of behaviour is. I would however, class some people I know as owning this behaviour. After discovering its meaning, I have been looking out for it this last week and have been surprised to see it in the people around me. Often, you do not know when you are doing it. I cannot admit that I am never manipulative.
Examples of manipulative behaviour are:
Of course, in certain circumstances, it would be wrong not to have sympathy for these reasons but it is all dependant on how often they use this as an excuse. You may begin to identify that there are specific people in your life that manipulate you constantly.
Mu husband probably sees this behaviour from me. For example whilst walking past some shoes I may like, the occasional “If you want to make me happy…….” might trickle out of my mouth but usually in jest. Sarcasm can be manipulative too. What do they say, “50% of sarcasm is truth”? We trick people into believing it’s a joke, but of course there must be some truth behind it. We wouldn’t say it otherwise.
Children are the key grouping that fall into manipulative behaviour using their position as someone you love and care about to get what they want. Just because they are children doesn’t give them free reign to behave inappropriately. This is when clear boundaries should be set so they understand what is appropriate and effective behaviour.
Adults can be manipulative too.
My father was and I believe my mother has been too. The latter may not be realising when she is.
My father regularly used manipulation to get what he wanted. He played on everything possible: his age, his ethnicity, his culture, his position in society, his job, his illnesses, my lack of empathy. All these things manifested into me feeling extreme resentment towards him.
Love comes when manipulation stops; when you think more about the other person than about his or her reactions to you. When you dare to reveal yourself fully. When you dare to be vulnerable.
At six in the evening, my father rang to tell me it was terminal lung cancer.
I cannot even explain the emotions I felt. Anger, fear, sadness were the most obvious.
Shock was probably the clearest feeling. Without any warning I would have to prepare myself for a range of emotions to follow. My life had been turned upside down and everything I had been working towards, the chance to build a relatively normal relationship with him was about to be forgotten. I knew the next few months would be difficult. Not only dealing with that thought of him dying but also the realisation that I may never get the answers or apologies I wanted from him.
I cried when he told me. Who wouldn’t? He was still my father and I just couldn’t fathom his absence from my life. Hope was always there, albeit foolishly.
This date will forever stay in my mind.
After getting married at the end of May last year, the contact between my father and I had decreased. It was deliberate as I wanted to set firm rules in our relationship in place. The 30th of June had been my best friend’s hen party and I had stayed over at her house in Essex. Another friend had given me a ride back to London. My father and I had talked the previous weekend and I mentioned what was happening. He offered to pick me up from my friend’s flat in London as it was a distance from where I actually lived. I was wary. It wasn’t often that my father wanted to help me out especially without condition. I should have anticipated trouble but like a fool I accepted his offer. After all, it was rare to receive kindness and a part of me still longed for that from him.
On July 1st 2012, my father picked me up from my friend’s flat. I made sure I was ready for him, it was a mistake to ever keep that man waiting. It was a sweltering hot day and as well as having a rather large, self-inflicted hangover, I was also very tired. I was looking forward to getting home. As it was also a Sunday, I needed to get myself organised for work the following day.
In the car my father didn’t ask me about the party he rarely took any interest in what I did. However as soon as we had set off, the trouble began. On the previous day, when he dropped me to my friend’s flat, he had mentioned about a DVD he wanted to watch but was unsure of how to use the player. I had explained how to do it to him and assumed that was the end of it. After all, he had used the home DVD player many times before. On the return journey he mentioned his problem again. I asked him if I could roll down the window, the car was like an oven. He refused and went on to tell me how ill he was (he’d been suffering with COPD, a chronic pulmonary disease for several years) and that the air would ignite his cough. I cannot say I had any empathy for him, I had been his sounding board for his complaints and ailments my whole life, I knew it was time to switch off. It may sound ruthless and cold but all he ever did was complain about life and to stay positive with someone like that can be a struggle. I allowed him to rant but I rarely paid attention.
Of course I had my concerns. Even though he repulsed me in many ways, the sound of his coughing worried me. I am not made of stone. I asked if he was okay.
“What do you care?” was his pleasant response.
I remained silent, it made sense to.
As his coughing became progressively violent, I told him to take a sip of water. He laughed and replied,
“Be quiet if you have nothing useful to say!”
I was immediately scared. His voice had deepened and the volume had increased. I felt anxious and nauseous. I forgot how much he loved to attack me in the car. It was the perfect place – no escape.
“Before I drop you back, you are coming home with me to set up the DVD.” he stated.
I faced him. I did not want to go there. I spent most of my time avoiding going back there. I certainly did not want to be alone there with him. My silence began to annoy him.
“It won’t take long; just show me how to do it. It is very important that I watch this video, do you understand?”
I didn’t understand. There were other people he could ask. The old feelings of entrapment and suffocation began to appear. I could not breathe.
“Did you hear me? We’ll go home, you can sort that out and then I’ll take you for a nice lunch”.
Now it was lunch too! What next?
“Daddy……………” I began tensely, “I’m really tired, I’ve got a terrible headache. Can I give you the instructions over the phone when I get back, that way you can learn how to do it yourself?”
There was no easy way to say ‘No’. There was no certain way of saying it that would appease him. Of course, he was instantly infuriated by my ridiculous request and once again after several years, the car was the place for him to lose all patience with me and leave me fearing for my life.
“You do not want to do anything for anyone else! You are so selfish, so mean. I never want to speak to you again! I cannot believe you are my daughter!” he screamed.
Tears streamed down my cheeks uncontrollably. Nothing had changed, he was still the same man and I was foolish to believe otherwise. I rolled down my window ignoring his previous order and inhaled the cool air. As soon as we arrived at my apartment, I got out of the car, slammed the door and didn’t look back.
The next time we spoke would be the start of the journey that changed our lives altogether.