Broken Promises

Marriage is said to be forever... 'til death do you part. For better or worse, in sickness and in health.... Promises made in front of your closest family and friends and in front of God. Yep, thats some pretty major promises, and I broke them. But, in my defence, marriage is also meant to be a happy union. Or so the fairy tales say. We have all read them with their expectation building "knight in shining armour" and their "happily ever after" rubbish. Not once have I read a fairy tale that eluded to the fact that love may be impersonated. But I guess I have never read a fairy tale that has a strong-willed independant woman as a lead character either... It turns out my life is NOT a fairy tale.

I have been told I am a disappointment, a quitter, a heartless bitch... and thats not including the names the in-laws called me. Of course the whole marriage break down was my fault and I was happy to accept the blame and to lose everything if it meant getting out of my situation. On the outside everything looked fine. No one had any idea of the daily hell I endured behind closed doors. No one knew because slowly, day by day each and every one of my friends was slowly pushed away. I was isolated, I was in a situation where I needed help and had no one to turn to. No one that would believe me, no one that would understand, or so I thought.

I wish I could say that we "just grew apart" or even easier would be if he was to blame by being unfaithful. Instead I had to try and explain to people that despite what they saw in public, that was NOT our relationship. That was an act. A show put on to make everyone believe that we were fine, a couple in love. But in truth, it wasn't love. Not even close and it has taken me many years to realise and admit that. The sad part in this whole matter is that I had to JUSTIFY myself to people. The same people that had once been my friends but had accepted being pushed away. The same people that had never fought to keep my friendship. The same people that I thought I would need support from to get through this difficult time... I was wrong. I should never have tried to justify my decision. At the end of the day there are only 2 people in this world that know what happened in that house. People will judge you no matter what you say or do, so why try and change their minds? And why let it get to you?

Looking back at my marriage I am ashamed at the peson I had become. I was never the type of girl to let anyone walk all over me. I was always independant and strong-willed, I always voiced my opinion on subjects I was passionate about, but that was before. The old saying "If you hear something enough you start to believe it" was very true in my case. I started to believe that I was worthless, that my opinion meant nothing. That I was no one, just a number and no one loved or cared about me. And worst of all, no one would believe me. You don't trust anyone because they are only nice to you because "they feel sorry for you" or because you are "the wife". I had never felt so alone...

I lost my passion, my spark, my zest for life. I was unhappy and I couldn't see a way out. The empty threats didn't feel empty at the time. I was scared and in my mind, had no future. All the promised plans were denied, my freedom was removed and my only outlet was being slowly torn away from me. For me, it was now or never. If I didn't do something about my situation I knew it would be too late. At best, I would be stuck in a controlled unhappy environment at worst I would be another statistic.

I turned to the only person I knew would listen. I rang my mum... She didn't doubt a single word I said. She saw my bruises and she saw my shattered soul. Between my mum and my dad, they made it their mission to get their little girl out safe. They are the ones that supported me and pushed me to fight for my belongings. I was willing to walk away from everything and that meant losing a lot. I didn't care if I had to start over, I was grateful to be able to start over. Not all woman in my situation are lucky enough to get out, let alone have a second chance. I knew I was lucky and I didn't want to take any chances.

It was a long hard road. A journey that tested the strength of my family. A fight that almost tore us apart many times. A nightmare that lasted a long time, a very long time. I don't regret many things about my life, but I regret getting married. I regret ever meeting the man. I know I should be grateful for the lessons I have learned, but I'm not. I used to trust people. I used to see the beauty in everything. I used to believe that people were ...good, kind, caring, loving. I used to believe that people didn't have to have a motive. Now, I am wary of people, I analyse them and I assume everyone is manipulative. I think everyone is putting on an act, living a lie. I've seen it, a lie lived for years, I know how easy it can be for some people. I have built walls to protect myself, to keep people out, to stop them from being able to hurt me... All it does is hurt myself. It makes close relationships difficult. It makes people believe they don't really know me, and to be honest, most don't. But most have never really tried either. I can count on one hand the very few people that I have allowed to get close enough to see the pain. The few I have trusted to see the raw emotion and heartache that almost destroyed me. The ones who know the part that hurt the most was having no one fight for me.

I managed to move on with a brand new bunch of friends. Real friends, the kind you can get raw and honest answers from. The rare kind of friends that ...know, they just KNOW what you are trying to say and how you feel. The kind of people that don't judge, they just accept things the way they are. None of these new friends know the full story behind my marriage or divorce and none of them care. It's not important to them. And none of them has actually asked for a detailed account of what happened. Ironic really, the closest friends I have aren't bothered with the details, and the people who I barely speak to, that also don't know the story, are the people with strong opinions.

I am slowly learning to trust again. My theory is "It's not wrong to trust, it's wrong to abuse trust". I am slowly learning how to love too. Despite everything that has happened, I know that wasn't based on love. I think loving someone is the most pure of all emotions and brings such joy. You have no control over who you love, it just happens... It's hard to describe. They don't make you complete, you are already complete. They compliment you in a way that enhances all your qualities, they make you want to be a better person. You can't explain what it is... maybe it's intuition?

Some things you just don't question.


Jessie

The Daily Grind.

Most people think working in a Pet shop is all about cuddling puppies and kittens all day. They think its full of love and fun and nothing ever goes wrong... "You must LOVE your job!" or "You're so lucky, you have the BEST job!" Are the standard lines I hear day in, day out. Of course, the grass is always greener on the other side. For them and for me.

Can I think of worse jobs? Absolutely! Without a doubt, I mean I would HATE to be a plumber sticking my hand down some randoms toilet. Or a Dentist, or even worse, one of those people that collects pathology specimens. OR, worst job ever... cleaning public toilets! People are disgusting, there is no more accurate way to describe them. We have all been the victim of walking into a public toilet to find some unpleasantry written in feacal matter on the wall, or delighted in discovering some precious soul has missed the bowl althogether... haven't we?


Well, I'm here to tell you that working in a Pet Shop is not so unlike these other professions. Cuddling puppies and kittens all day is what you call it. But, what actually happens is this: The day starts with scrubbing rediculous amounts of worm infested poo off the floor, walls and yes, even the roof. (Their poos are full of worms because we have wormed them - unlike the unnamed registered breeder, so don't critise!) The puppies themselves also need to be cleaned because after a night of interior design, paw painting and accessorising themselves with chunks of poo, they just don't resemble that "puppy in the window" picture you imagined. Ok, so you have had enough talk about poo? Well, unfortunately, just after cleaning is when EVERYONE is due for another poo.... I will save you the details, but it's not fun.

The rest of the day is filled with helping the vet to vaccinate (not great if you aren't good with needles, or holding animals while they get their needles OR if you have a problem with a certain careless, yet extremely goodlooking vet accidently stabbing you) Same goes for microchipping, its the size of a grain of rice going into an 8 week old Chihuahua. Yes, it hurts and YES Chihuahuas are vicious little gremlins. I won't even start to explain the likely injuries from giving a worming tablet to a feral kitten! But the last time one of the little fur sharks got me, it bled for hours and left a scar. By the way, everyone has done another poo.

Then there are the joys of dealing with "breeders". I use this term broadly. Everyone who has animals that reproduce fall into this category, but there is a HUGE variance in quality. Some days you get the breeder who is an "expert" in the industry. The ones who have puppies that are underweight, too young to be sold, full of worms, covered in fleas and ticks and full of genetic conditions that will reduce their life span and quality of life. BUT, don't try and tell them these things, because, "What would you know? You just work in a pet shop." This is a common quote generally mixed in with a bunch of name calling and sometimes threats of drowning said animals. To get the full picture of this scenario you need to imagine what the breeder looks like... A stereotype, if I may... They are generally from Gympie or Ipswich, small town people, didn't finish school, never knew how to brush their teeth - not that they need to anymore... grubby clothes, no shoes and wild toe nails. Flannel shirt with Winny blues in the top pocket, built like a brick shit house and haven't used a hair brush in years. (For the record, I used to put up a decent fight and NEVER purchased animals of this quality from ANYONE.) - While this argument is going on, there are more poos to clean up.

Ok, so enough about puppies and kittens. Lets move to the grooming room! So, that should be fun, right? Giving doggies cute little haircuts and bathing them... WRONG!! Did you know that when clipping a dog their hair will get into every orifice you have? Hair will also stab into your skin like minute splinters and if you don't remove them daily it can get infected. The hair gets into your eyes and up your nose making you rub your face, embedding more hair and making you look like a Yhetti. And then there is the true pain known only to those who have ever clipped a Cocker Spaniel... the ingrown hairs in your nipples! If that isn't enough to put you off grooming for life, then you have customers and their unrealistic expectations to deal with. "Make my 50kg German Shepherd look like a small fluffy lap dog." Or, a favourite amongst groomers, "Just brush those knots out." First of all, the hair is MATTED to the skin, no amount of brushing will fix that, and secondly you have a Silky Terrier, the dog will need to be muzzled so I can even look sideways at it! After that it gets easy, I mean dogs just stand there and do what they are told when you are using a foreign object that makes a noise and vibrates all over them.... Then occassionally, to top off a splendid day you get the nervous / stress related explosive bottom. If you are really lucky, the dog has JUST been bathed and the volcanic erruption that is it's bottom goes all over the freshly cleaned and shaved bottom and on really special occassions, it gets you... on the face.

My favourite thing about working in a Pet Shop though, would have to be the customers. I mean who else is lucky enough to be trusted so fully that in times of emergency, we are the ones that are relied upon? When something unusual appears out your beloved dogs back end, where do you go? Straight to the pet shop, of course. Who else can be trusted to identify the parasite in your dogs faeces? And YES, we do literally get bags of poo brought in for us to examine. It's funny how this relationship works, when an animal should probably be seeing a vet, our expert FREE advice is asked and then argued against... Why ask if you don't want to know the answer? Why say it's too much hassle so instead of fixing your pet you will shoot them, or dump them or leave them to suffer? Do you honestly think we will LIKE you after that? And talking about liking customers... Customer service is our job. It does not mean we like you, have a crush on you, want to date you, have your babies or even marry you. It means we are doing our job to make money for the business. Oh, and we care about your animals welfare... simple!

And that is a good day. A day where no one gets hurt. No animals get sick or injured. No customers are screaming and yelling because they killed their fish and want YOU to replace it.... A day where you think maybe it's worth going back again the next day. A day where you think maybe what you are doing is making a difference to the lives of some animals. And then, you remember the big picture. Then you try and think of a goal that you have achieved today. Something to take you a step closer to where you want to be... WHO you want to be.

All of a sudden the grass doesn't seem so green anymore.


Jessie

A Story of Balance

For me this blog is about getting the balance back. I have been inspired by my best friend, Tashi to follow my heart. To put my thoughts (even the crazy ones) into words for all to see! Obviously, I am a little wary at how this may be interpreted by some... But, sometimes you just have to take risks, or so I'm told.

The title, "The Monarch Effect" has come from the theory, The flap of a butterfly’s wing is said to cause a hurricane on the other side of the world.... Every action has an equal and opposite reaction and yet it is not always immediate and sometimes it's hard to make the connection. But, basically, everything happens for a reason.

“This journey is one of Faith, trusting in the dream and following a passion beyond all obstacles. A true journey of the heart is wrought with life lessons, some very painful, that clear the mind of impurities, for it is in the heart where our universal Truth find its place and voice.”

So this, my very first blog, is about my life. The journey, or in Swahili, "Safari," the life lessons - the fun ones and the painful ones... Everything. The raw emotion of life.


Today, I had an amazing conversation with a great friend who I admire deeply. We talked about true happiness, the stuff that makes each of us tick, the love and passions in life, the things that bring us peace and make us feel.... like we belong.

I have lost my passion, I am bored and restless and I don't feel like I belong anywhere. But, I am happy. Not in the true sense of being fulfilled, but I am happy. I mean I laugh, I have fun, I joke... thats happy, right? But it's not enough anymore. I have accomplished goals, but they aren't MY goals. I have so many goals... DREAMS... is it even possible to live out all your dreams? How do you know which dreams to follow? And doesn't life get in the way and get lived while you are making these decisions?

The truth is, I have had a wake up call recently. One of those huge life changing things that makes you realise life doesn't go on forever. Things can change in the blink of an eye. Life... changes. Babies are born, people move in and out of our lives, people die... babies die. There is nothing certain in our lives, nothing we can rely on or hold onto. Nothing. No one. We are on our own. All of us, together, but alone.

So, of course the only real solution to all of this soul searching is to go overseas. Eat, Pray, Love style. (Don't groan, the book is WAY better then the movie.) Except, I have (of course) found some obsticles to this apparent solution to all my problems. First of all, WHERE do I go? I mean I want to go to Africa, I always have and I will get there one day, BUT is it really safe for me to go alone? Because I will be alone, this is something that has to be done alone, right? Even if I wanted to go with someone, there is no one... But THAT is a whole new story! Which brings me to my next point, I will be alone, so... thats pretty scary. In fact it's enough to make me think I don't really need to go at all. That takes me back to square one, the daily grind in a Pet Shop. (More rewarding and less fun then you imagine.) Now I digress, or I did about an hour ago. Anyway, I think I need to settle on a destination before I can make any more plans. My first choice is Italy... A place to feed the soul. Or France, a place to feed the heart, or starve it! The city of love, alone, is that wise? (To be honest, I don't think it would bother me that much.) But then what do I do when I'm there and how long do I stay? If I was going to Africa, it would be for at least 1 month to do volunteer work, but this isn't about working... or is it? Working on my mind maybe. Learning to live with me, to be at peace and comfortable in my own company. I thought I was already there. I love being alone, I am comfortable with my thoughts, decisions and actions. Maybe it's not about "finding" me, maybe it's about discovering what I am capable of?

I don't know the reason, I don't understand the purpose, but, I know I need to do this. It's just a matter of taking the first step. Making the first move. Being fearless. Or maybe this whole idea is just my mind trying to fill a void.... And back around for another full loop. Yes, I analyse, everything.

Contrary to thought, this has not helped to clear my mind at all! And unlike my dear dedicated friend, Tash, I can't promise I will write everyday.

So, until next time,
"Be the change you want to see in the world."

Jessie