Writing My Heart Out

I’ve been absent for a few days, as you can see – but to be honest several of you did see the post I posted two days ago that I have since made private. I had a bit of a crisis in my personal life since posting that and thought maybe it was best, for now, to take it down.

Yesterday was a bit of a better day. I was still a little emotionally raw, but it was better.

I did go to another large antique store I haven’t been to in forever called the Old School House or something to that effect. It’s a little further away, but not by much. I did find another couple of treasures, most notably for me is an old tin Whitman’s Chocolate box with an Alphonse Mucha image. Mucha is my favorite artist and I adore Art Nouveau in general.

Anyway, today is Thanksgiving here in America and since I’ve told you how delicious my feelings are – it should be no surprise that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Because reasons.

Those reasons are food.

I’ll have to get to making the mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce soon, as that is my contribution this year and I also hope to work on some fiction at some point today for my new fiction site, but before I do – I wanted to talk about something I discussed with a friend the other day.

I know; such a long intro of inconsequential crap to get to the topic I intended to discuss today…

We were talking about how writing can make one discover or rediscover themselves. Writing can make one’s true feelings come out and make  you realize not only what you really feel or think about a subject, but also help you make decisions. Basically, my notebook or laptop can essentially be my sounding board.

Writing has been a vehicle for my catharsis; like my one true friend. It brings forth my thoughts like a crashing wave at times – flooding my notebook with memories or feelings I had all but forgotten.

I told my friend that when I first wrote about Sven a couple of years ago, I was surprised to see my laptop telling me of a pregnancy scare I had had with him.

I had honestly forgotten that had ever happened.

I mentioned it to Maja at the time and she stated “Oh, I remember that!”

So I know it wasn’t a fancy of my imagination. How strange that my hand could record something that even my brain didn’t recall on it’s own. Similar instances have happened since – but that was the first and most powerful hit of realization I’ve had.

I suppose everyone is different, but if you were to ask me how to deal with an issue or to figure out a course of action – I would tell you to write your heart out.



Dissociation and Flippancy

I just picked up Amy Schumer’s book “The Girl with the Lower Back Tattoo.”

I came across it yesterday at our local Kmart, I reached out and picked it up without a second thought. Not even considering the price as I would usually do.

That’s because I’ve long considered her my spirit animal – a much less fictional spirit animal than Sansa Stark… To lessen confusion, however; I may need to relabel one of them as my patronus instead.

Clearly, I am a geek.

Though, obviously, Amy’s life and experiences greatly differ from my own… I feel a connection to her and relate whole heartedly to much of her story.

Like me, she has only ever had one one-night stand. Unlike me, however; hers sounds much more enjoyable… The men’s muscular stature being about the only other resemblance.

Her chapter on being an introvert speaks to me on a spiritual level. I wish I could have had this book earlier in my life to point out certain passages and say “Look! This is normal! I’m not the only one!”

Talking about a partner’s family noting how regularly she went off by herself and how she tends to utilise the “Irish goodbye” – basically just disappearing from a group suddenly…. Me, me, me.

But so far, what really got me is when I came across this passage last night:


The experience that led us there is different. No one’s respective sexual learning happens the same way… But the end result of dissociation is,again, me. The flippancy is me.

My first coping mechanism, how I dealt with being too young and immature for the sexual relationship I found myself in was being flippant about my promiscuity. Acting like I must be cool and experienced to be doing such things with an older dude.

Shame tried to push its way in, and I pushed harder back at it. Deciding I wouldn’t allow myself to feel ashamed. I decided I would be “empowered ” instead… But the result was less empowerment and more dissociation. It took awhile to even recognise this in myself.

What I saw as my ability to choose and be free of religious constraints was really me having more of a “what the hell, might as well” kind of attitude.

In all honesty, unlike Amy who guarded herself against what she suspected men wanted from her, I was less guarded… More worn down by my experiences… And would have willingly slept with many, many more men.

All that being said, I am really enjoying Amy’s book so far. I highly recommend it. It’s well written, poignant, and obviously still humorous.

Now, if you’ll excuse me… I have a book to read.

Taylor Swift Gets Me : Reprise

While we’re on the topic of Taylor Swift, I went back and perused my posts from February 2015 – when I started this blog – and came across one of the first posts I had written that was also a I-have-a-girl-crush-on-Taylor kind of post.

What I had done is compiled and mashed up several of her lyrics that I felt outlined my love life. I wrote it straight through without explaining who was who – I guess half expecting I’d make it clear enough eventually through the blog.

Well, I decided just now to go ahead and revise it. Make it clear who was who and polish it up a bit – making changes as to past tense etc so it flows better… As well as add some for Viktor, so he wouldn’t be so left out 😉 Also notice that Dane was included though he is a BFF not a past boyfriend. I still consider him as “one of my boys” in my life though… so there you go.

You can; however, still find the original here.


I was reminiscing the other day, while having coffee all alone and lord it took me away… We were both young when I first saw you; I close my eyes and the flashback starts:

Did you have to do this? I was thinking that you could be trusted, did you have to hit me where I’m weak, Baby, I couldn’t breathe. These kinds of wounds they last and they last… Cause when you’re fifteen and somebody tells you they love you, you’re gonna believe them; all I wanted was to be wanted.

I wish I could go back and tell myself what I know now. Stupid girl, I should have known. Maybe I was naïve, got lost in your eyes and never really had a chance. My mistake, I didn’t know how to be in love.

You took a swing, I took it hard and down here from the ground, I see who you are. I screamed so loud but no one heard a thing.

You were so casually cruel in the name of being honest. I’m a crumpled up piece of paper lying here cause I remember it all.

“Baby, I miss you and I swear I’m gonna change, trust me.” You wore your best apology.

That was the last time I let you in my door. “This is the last time I won’t hurt you anymore.” You told me that you loved me and then you cut me down; I needed you like a heartbeat, but you know you got a mean streak.

You told me that you wanted me, then pushed me around. You, with your words like knives and swords and weapons that you used against me. You knocked me off my feet again, got me feeling like I’m nothing.

I wondered if I’d make it out alive. It’s hard to fight when the fight ain’t fair. I might be ok, but I’m not fine at all. I remember all too well.

And then I felt so low I couldn’t feel nothing at all.


Your eyes look like coming home. I just liked hanging out with you all the time. Darling, it was good. All I felt in my stomach was butterflies – the beautiful kind. It was miserable and magical, oh yeah. There was something about it that felt like home somehow. Oh your sweet disposition and my wide eyed gaze…

Distance, Timing, Breakdown, Fighting, silence, the train ran off its tracks. I guess we fell apart the usual way and the story’s got dust all over the page,

but sometimes I wonder how you think about it now.


He said everything I needed to hear and it’s like I couldn’t ask for anything better

He said “you look beautiful tonight”

And I felt perfectly fine


New to town with a made up name, I saw you there and thought “Oh my God, look at that face – you look like my next mistake.” He was so tall and handsome as hell. He was so bad but he did it so well.

You looked like bad news, I had to have you. I knew you were trouble when you walked in. You were just so cool, ran your hands through your hair… Absentmindedly making me want you. I guess you didn’t care and I guess I liked that. I’d be smart to have walked away, but you were quicksand.

You always knew how to push my buttons, I’m really gonna miss you picking fights. It was a long six months and you were too afraid to tell me what you want. I just wanted to know you better.

No apologies, he never saw me cry, pretended he didn’t know that he was the reason why I was drowning.

I faked a smile so he wouldn’t see.


My lover in the foyer didn’t even know me.

Thought his future was me. He couldn’t see the smile I was faking and my heart was not breaking cause I wasn’t feeling anything at all. Could he tell that I couldn’t breathe?

Everybody loves pretty and everybody loves cool.

But I was so confused because I didn’t feel pretty, I just felt used.


I don’t know why, but with you I’d dance in a storm in my best dress.

Cause I couldn’t help it if you looked like an angel, couldn’t help if I wanted to kiss you in the rain. We were dancing, dancing like we’re made of starlight…

 The only one who’s got enough for me to break my heart.



It was a moment of weakness and I said yes. I should’ve said no, I should’ve gone home. You were looking so innocent, I might have believed you if I didn’t know.

Even now just looking at you feels wrong.


We know it’s never simple, never easy, never a clean break. Nothing we said was gonna save us from the fall out. It was 2 AM, feeling like I just lost a friend.

You didn’t have to call anymore, I wouldn’t pick up the phone, that was the last straw, I didn’t want to hurt anymore. I just wanted to tell you it took everything in me not to call you.

…So that was me swallowing my pride, Standing in front of you saying, “I’m sorry for that night.” Your guard was up and I know why…

Because the last time you saw me was still burned in the back of your mind.


You’re thinking that I hate you now cause you still don’t know what I never said. Kiss me, try to fix it. Could you just try to listen?

I’m pretty sure we almost broke up last night. I was expecting some dramatic turn away, but you… stayed. I’ll be loving you for quite some time, No one else is gonna love me when I get mad.

For the first time what’s past is past.

It’s like I got this music in my mind saying “It’s gonna be alright”

For my new readers – you can find  stories about most of these guys under the relationships tab at the top, filed by these names. (Dane is under Best Friends.) Though the entire stories are in my book… available on Amazon.

When they say “Just start writing.”

I have a thick, square, red notebook that says “Lots of amazing fabulous great ideas in here” on the cover. I’m using it as my writing brainstorm notebook. All that is in it right now, besides possible topics for a next project, is a check list of some standout pleasant Wyatt memories from when I started writing a few for a short series on this blog. I still have a few left I haven’t written – but I’m not in the mood to think on him today.

I feel like perhaps I’ve over saturated my content here with three main people – Wyatt, David, and Dan… though some of my best writing is about them, I think… but not enough has been written necessarily of the other people sometimes mentioned here. I have done a fair bit more writing about Andre, Justin, and Jason at least in my book… and a little more on Viktor and Sven. I’d hate to write too much here now to give away too much of what I discuss in the book.

So what to write about? I’m not depressed at the moment…. So I don’t particularly want to write about depression again at this moment.

I could brainstorm some other BFF memories, or branch off to write more about other childhood memories or something. Perhaps other dating memories that weren’t included in my book. I don’t know. Sometimes it seems I have so many ideas in my head that it suddenly just goes blank. If I think on it too much, I’ll forget everything.

Sometimes all I need to do is just start writing and out drops a pearl. Out will drop a memory, an idea, or a paragraph; perfectly formed.

That’s what happened when I wrote about Sven last year. I just sat down with the intent to write about him; to chronicle the relationship. No real clear outline. In closing, I typed about a pregnancy scare with him. Fully formed couple of paragraphs… then I suddenly stopped typing and stared at the screen. Holy Shit, I thought. I had completely forgotten about that.

I sent Maja a message right after, giving her the file of what I had written about that day. She responded via Skype with “Oh, yeah, I remember that!”

She continued on recalling our conversations from the time about if I should accept his proposal of marriage. Did I want to be a single mum instead? Should I consider abortion or adoption? …I was not a believer in abortion simply as a birth control method.

“How did I forget about this?” I asked her.

“I dunno,” she said. “It was a pretty big deal at the time.”

The memory sharpened as I talked to Maja. I remembered not telling my parents. I remembered lying in the brush in a wooded area near my house, with Sven, discussing the issue. I remember him telling me then if I wasn’t sure about marrying him he would still take care of me and the potential child – and he would hope one day I would decide to marry him anyway.

I remembered the sweet relief when a week or so after that discussion, my cycle started again, and I realized I was so grateful to not have to seriously consider tying myself down to him for the rest of my life. Whether or not we married, if I had a kid with him, I would have felt tied to him and the small village of Billund forever.

I’m still amazed what can come out when one just sits down and starts to write.

Hopefully he won’t read it…

I typed up a message, copy and pasting for the most part – since I had sent basically the same message to a handful of other men. The messages and emails were notifications that I wrote a particular book and that I had written about them in it. I told them if they wanted to read it, to just let me know and I would send them a free copy.

I sent these notes to Sven, Justin, Andre, Viktor, Dan, and even Jimmy. All the men I am still in touch with in some form or another. I wrote these notes before the book even went live, but so far I have only heard back from half of them. Andre and Jimmy seem very excited for me and of course they want a copy they told me. Justin has already read the manuscript – he read my first book’s manuscript too since he helped me with some of the editing process. This time he was helping me with the whole male perspective thing – so he’s read it anyway. He liked it, but preferred for me not to send a hard copy because he said my title was clever and he is sure if it arrived in the mail while he was at work, his son would surely pick it up and start reading it… and he just doesn’t want to have “that conversation” with him.

Why nooot? Haha… okay, fair enough, Justin.

I’m not so concerned if the other three don’t want to read it. I mean, I do hope Viktor will want to. He seemed genuinely surprised when I wrote about him on this blog before and I actually had nice things to say about him. He said my view of him helped to change the perspective he has always had of himself. …Which is a good thing. Viktor is hard to get a hold of though, so I’m not sure if he has even seen my email yet, let alone considered the possibility of wanting to read it.

Sven… Honestly I don’t care if he reads it. I think I give him a fair shake in the book, but it’s not glowing and eh… I just don’t relate so much to him anymore anyway. What he thinks about it doesn’t fuss me much.

What does fuss me is this: Dan. I can see he saw my message. So he knows, but so far has stayed silent. That is not unusual – sometimes when I message him, he’ll see it right away but not get around to answering for a couple of weeks. That’s fine. He’s a busy guy.

I care about what Dan will think if he does read it. I pretty well laid myself bare about him. I wrote all the things in my head, all my feelings I ever had about him in that book. I’ve mentioned before that I have often had a hard time displaying sincere emotion to him – so I don’t think he truly understands how I ever felt about him. Yeah, he knew I cared about him. He read his birthday greeting post from May when I sent him the link – so he knows I care about him still. But this is a man that I have never allowed to see me cry – even though he directly caused me to have an absolute meltdown in the bathroom. Punching walls and hitting the floor with my fists as tears streamed down my face; Maja trying to hold me and calm me down.

I put on a hard face for him, I exuded bubbles and fun, I tried to exude “cool.” Maybe I succeeded, maybe I didn’t. Maybe he could tell all along that I was putting on the act. Maybe he knew all along I was guarding myself from him. I was guarding my emotions from him – trying to build a wall, though the bricks continuously crumbled in my hands.

Dan doesn’t like to think on the past. Dan doesn’t particularly care for who he was in the ’90s and early ’00s. The likelihood of him saying he wants a copy is slim, I think… But I had to offer. I had to be fair and offer it to him alongside the other men.

But maybe… …probably… ….hopefully… he won’t want to read it.

That would be okay with me.




*Interested in what I wrote about these men? Check out my book on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/That-Boy-Gave-Cooties-Relationship/dp/1516885708/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1441238794&sr=8-1&keywords=that+boy+gave+me+cooties

Hur Rae blev smittad med Klamydia (or “Boys have Cooties”)

In previous posts I have mentioned briefly that when I was a young adult, I was stricken with Chlamydia. You can see these references here, here, and here.

Maja thinks it is funny to no end that I acquired this affliction and still periodically teases me about it to this day. Svea suggested I write about it because it would be the next step up juiciness-wise after what I wrote about Timmy. I was a little hesitant to post about it so soon after those posts since that was kind of in-your-face. Yet, I then thought that it might be shocking to lull you into a false sense of security and then one day you check your reader or email and BAM! Chlamydia!

Hahaha. So anyway, here goes nothin’

It was late 2001 or early 2002 when I went to Kungsholmens’ school nurse complaining of an off-feeling tummy. (Maja seems to remember I had some other symptom(s) but I don’t recall them.)

The nurse said that it could be nothing of consequence, but advised a trip to Ungdomsmottagning anyway. UM was the free youth clinic, so I made my way over there. I didn’t suspect much about what my troubles might be.

I sat in the waiting room flipping through various brochures and magazines, avoiding eye contact with any other youth there. We were in Sweden after all. I did notice  couple sitting together – I wondered if it was merely a support situation or the more likely scenario of coming for pregnancy/STD testing.

My mind had started wandering when the nurse came into the room and called out “Rakel!”

I didn’t react initially, so she looked around at the few girls in the room and repeated “Rakel…Jansson?”

It suddenly dawned on me. Duh. She was pronouncing my name in Swedish.

“Oj, det är Jag,” I said as I got up. “Förlåt mig,” I mumbled an embarrassed apology and followed her out.

During this appointment it was revealed to me that I had Klamydia / Chlamydia (I still tend towards spelling it in Swedish as that is how I was introduced to this particular condition. So please forgive if I flip back and forth.)

They told me it was a pretty bad case and that I had also likely had it for quite a long time. They also told me that, if left untreated, Klamydia can turn you sterile. To be honest, it took me 6 years of actively trying to get pregnant once I was married. I was so scared that  it was because of this history. The doctor at the time did a bunch of tests and couldn’t find anything… but wanted to schedule another test that had to be done at certain times in a cycle – and I never got around to it. Maybe it was always bad timing, maybe it was fear of finding out my issues were based out of my teen mistakes. I don’t know… but I never did that test.

It was a requirement to report all exposed parties to the government so I had to provide as much personal identifying info as I could about my partners.

I was so sure it would have been from Sven, as he was the only one I had sex with without protection. The nurse told me, regardless, all partners for at least the previous year should be notified and documented.

The only other partner during this time frame would have been Timmy, of whom was before Sven and I started up. Prior to that was Viktor – of which we were our mutual firsts, not withstanding the consistant use of condoms in our relationship. So I was definite that it was not from him. Svea agrees even now, Viktor was her friend and he would not have been the kind to lie about being a virgin.

I called Sven first, intending that that would be the only necessary call. He got tested and called me back with the results – they were negative. He also explained how painful the test was for guys back then. Not sure if they still do it the same way, I hear all you need is a urine sample now (so guys, don’t let my statement put you off of getting tested!) I felt a *little* bad for him. Either way, I was taken aback that Sven didn’t have it.

Shit. I’d have to deal with Timmy again.

The condom must have broken or something. Shitty “cherry” flavored piece of shit.

That boy gave me cooties…

After I had hooked up with Timmy and left his flat in the morning; he had texted me that day telling me to avoid contact with him because he was now “back with” his girlfriend. The guy didn’t want to get caught, it seems.

Regardless of this last communication, I was required to contact him if I was able. I tried calling him anyway. He ignored my calls. I couldn’t even leave a voice mail.

Rat Bastard.

The only other thing I could think of was to call either Patrik or Ronnie (for some reason I also still had their numbers in my phone… Don’t ask why. I can’t tell you.)

I can’t remember who I got a hold of, but whoever it was (I’m leaning towards Ronnie) had no issue handing over his mother’s phone number.

That’s right, friends. I called Timmy’s mum and told her that her son needed to be tested for Chlamydia. She assured me she would pass the info along to him. This was good enough for the Ungdomsmottagning nurse.

In the meantime my “BFFs” had a large time making fun of me for catching it.

“Why?! Why am I the one to have this? If any of us were to get this – I would have expected Maja to get it first!”

Maja was a little offended, naturally… so she called me a Hussy.

To be fair – at the time she was putting up a front that she was slutty and a party animal. A classy slut, but a very active one. With that kind of persona, why wouldn’t one expect that over someone who had less partners than what she claimed to have?

When I was done with the meds, I had to go back and get retested. I ran in on a late Friday afternoon so this time I had to wait a couple of days for the results. When the results came in, I was out shopping with a couple of friends. My mobile rang and on the other end was the nurse saying that I still had it. She said my case had gone undetected for so long and had gotten so bad that the usual med pack wasn’t sufficient. She told me to come back ASAP to get more.

I hurried over to the UM to pick up the new meds. Grossed out even more that Timmy’s germs were still on me. Luckily, a week or two later – when I got tested for a third time – I came out clean.

Really? Really.

So… I previously mentioned in another post that my 39 year old ex is dating an 18 year old… Now, they are expecting a baby. I’m just gonna let that sink in a moment…

Shocker, I know, that this post is a short one. I am just slightly flabberghasted, that’s all. It is his first and her second… Wow. Just wow.

To see the original post in which I mention them dating go to: https://iwillnotliveinvain.wordpress.com/2015/03/14/what-could-have-been/

…and I promise you another more quality post within the next few days 😉 In the meantime I will be posting something I put together last week… Hopefully you all will enjoy it 🙂

Also: Wow, thanks for the love y’all! My followers have increased by nearly a third in just the past couple days! I am relativley certain that most of the increase likely has to do with https://kelzbelzphotography.wordpress.com/ having her blog party! Thanks Kelzbelz! 🙂