Do They Really Know Me?

Today...second day off sick and bored with gaming and daytime TV, I return here. I quite like this place. It's quiet, peaceful and secret. And we all like to keep a secret now and then don't we?

I have been in and out of a couple of chat clients today. Might as well name them. Buzzen and Collarme.com. Both quite nice places in light of the fact that Yahoo has screwed over the very people who made it the giant monster it is today but that's another rant for another day.

I wandered in and out of several rooms and chatted a while, trying to get a feel for the rooms as they are. Mindful of the fact that most of my American friends were still tucked up in bed when I was online I found myself thinking again about the sexual nature of people.

I have over the past couple of days posted several items on several boards online and wondered if there was anyone out there that really knows me?

To many people I am many things and so I sat a while...pondering...

I have many photos and art pictures on my puter that I have taken from online sites and many portray the very essence of me...submissive with a slave belly. But many of the photos and artworks are of stunningly slim and beautiful women that wouldn't go amiss in a Hollywood blockbuster. Then I found this one.

And it's me. Maybe a little younger than me but the shape is me. The size is me. Even the hair is very like mine. And I thought...wow...stunning picture. A real woman picture.

Now although I am fast approaching 50 I still seem to look out on the world with the eyes of a young woman and many will say why not?

I have been writing on the notes section of Facebook and then realised...how few people really know me.

I realised that althought I am happy to state openly and honestly what I am here and to a very few select real life friends...who REALLY knows me?

My children know me as their mother. Nothing else. Well perhaps an inkling of my sexuality having lived with Kevin and I for almost 10 years now. But they only know me as the caring, sharing, nagging moaning mum. The woman who refuses to grow up and who embarrasses them now they have become young adults themselves.

But they only know the mum. They have no idea of the woman that lived before they were born.

They have no real knowledge of the girl growing up and sometimes when we laugh and joke about the times gone past, it's as though I was a child again listening to my Grandparents as they told ME of things gone by.

Then there are the family members who have been part of my life for so long. My parents...Dad who knows what I am and doesn't judge me badly. Then there are my nieces and nephews who see Auntie Anne. The woman who indulged them and spoilt them and played with them and took them all to see Santa year in, year out. The woman who always had the time mum didn't. But they wouldn't know then that it wasn't that mum didn't have time...it was Auntie Anne MAKING time for their mums to have for herself.

Then...a wife...twice...with weak men in my life who had no idea what to do with me.

I make no bones about the fact that I have been completely spoilt as I grew up and I was looking for a man who would treat me the way my Father did. As a princess. Well princesses still need a firm hand and as I have grown up, I've come to see that my Father still held a firm hand with me. I just didn't see it.

He was able to guide me. To shape me. To educate me. To help me see the world as a woman in a man's world. Not a man in a man's world. As I was growing up the feminist movement was gathering speed and it seemed to me that the entire female world wanted to be like men. Wanted to be equal with men. And yet here was me. A young lady growing into a yound adult woman who wanted to be a female!

All around me...women becoming ball breakers. Women wanting to take over the world with the premise that THEY gave birth to the next generation. That THEY were better than breeding machines. That THEY were better than the doormats so many men seemed to want

It became clear that for me to get on in my working life I had to adopt a persona that was acceptable to my fellow women friends. And so a monster was born.

I became the same as all the other women my age. I became mean minded. Harsh. Blunt speaking. A Ball Breaker with scant regard for the perceived weakness in the men around me. And yet looking back I can see now that it wasn't weakness. It was confusion. It was fear of upsetting or offending one of this new breed of woman. It was the confusion caused by not knowing where in society they belonged and it's no better today.

Though I will say this. There is a groundswell movement to get men back where they belong in our society. Ignore these stupid half baked lesbian liberals who say that men have no place anymore because we can have test tube babies. Well DUH!!! Where does the sperm come from???

I am tired of all the stresses and strains around me. I am fed up with stupid younger women telling me I'm a doormat simply because I choose to move away from the path they take.

For crying out loud ladies...I was out on the lash, sleeping around, making an arse of myself before you were even thought of never mind born!

You are doing nothing new in this generation.

Far from it.

You are so innocent it beggers belief because you have parents who shield you from reality. You have a Government your parents voted for and are now in the shit.

You all look at me and see what?

A barmy middle aged woman?

A mum like person you can go to cos you "see" me as young?

A good all round egg who is always there for a laugh?

A slightly off the wall woman who is also easy to talk to and be a confidente?

Well the reason I am all of these things is down to my age you silly girls.

And while you all preen and pose and worry what the world thinks of you, look at the way I look because one day you too will lose that waspy waist, your boobs will droop when the well upholstered bra is off, you too will became middle aged and your hormones will drive you mad and then...

You will have to make the choice I am having to make. Do I chase my youth and make myself ill doing it or do I accept that I am almost 50 and not ever going to look as fit, slim and healthy as you do?

Do I look in the mirror and accept the size, shape, bumps and lumps I see?

Well hell yes. Of course I do.

Because they are what makes me ME. And one day...all those pretty young things will be looking in the mirror and seeing the same things I do but will they have the confidence to say...

Is this really me?

Do they really know me?