20 Dallas Dating Do’s and Don’ts…

Dont-Do-This-When-Asking-Someone-Out-On-A-Date-610x477Thought it was time to do one of those lists. Seems like everyone has a list…

So here goes my list…

Do’s

1. Do be honest. If you’re married, fess up. If you claim you’re married but separated, actually be separated. You will ALWAYS get caught. Why not start out being honest. It will save a ton of pain in the end.
2. Do be emotionally available. Stop blaming her for everything. Get over her. Move on.
3. Do be ready. I’ve nursed far too many men who aren’t ready. It’s not my job to put your books in your backpack and make your lunch. That’s my job as a mother. Not a girlfriend.
4. Do understand that the opposite of love is indifference. NOT hate. Learn the difference. Feel the difference.
5. Do send flowers. But not on the world’s clock. Do it on your own clock. A random day with no meaning other than to say hello. Fuck Valentine’s Day. Read More

Sharing my story on “Point of Contact”

I am going to be talking about my story (the good, the bad, and the ugly) on Point of Contact today, Tuesday, at 12 noon cst.

I appreciate all the support from you, my readers, and I would love to have you as a part of this.

Immerss is a new online platform that allows you to be part of a “live” audience.

There is limited “seating” so register now if you want to ask me questions or have a story to share. Choose either the Immersive option to be a part of the audience (you need a laptop or tablet and good wifi) or the live option.

https://immerss.com/22-sep-12-00-point-of-contact-fearlessly-moving-forward-with-wanda-means-kathy-mason/uc32c0o2

Below is the Description of today’s show. Read More

I’ve Reached The Bottom…

Of the bottle.

It’s 4am. I’m wide awake. Waiting for the Aleve to kick in. Just another day. Another downed bottle of wine. Another pack of cigarettes smoked. WTF am I doing? Where am I going with all this?

I know much of this blog is about surviving abuse and ultimately thriving because of it. But some days, I’m not thriving at all. I’m barely surviving. If it was all about just surviving sexual abuse, then I could take on that challenge. But it’s more. So much more. I’m a fighter but I’m beat down constantly. Abandonment of a father and constant rejection by him. And a mother who had zero feelings for my pain and told me to forgive her husband for sexually abusing me. Simply Jesus forgave him and so had she. Fine. Forgive him all you want but you could have kicked his ass to the curb. Making me feel like I was loved. Never mind, you may be alone. Clearly, your needs of a man to take you to dinner and make you feel important were far more important than my needs of a mother to protect me when I needed it most. A fucking trifecta of “Fuck you, Wanda.” The selfish needs of your parents are far more important than yours. Let this be your foundation for your life. “You are not important. Our needs come before yours. Period.”

I started this blog 3 days ago after I hit bottom. Again. How many times am I going to hit bottom? Luckily, I have a lot of friends. And a really good therapist. And several friends who are really good therapists.

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The Chase for the “L” Word … Now What?

For the past 10 months, I have been chased relentlessly by this widower attorney whom I thought (until two days ago) was probably the sweetest man I have met in the past several years. Always there for me. Giving. Generous. Good as they get. Always complimenting me. Making sure I was taken care of. But I wasn’t interested in anything other than a nice dinner and some fun. My head and heart were elsewhere. Me chasing a dream of a life that simply wasn’t meant to be.

And then. The “L” word. Out of no where. Of course it was during sex. Don’t they always drop that bomb just before climax? So predictable. So, what do I do? At first, I ignore it. Then? Well, then I really start to think about it. Think about the possibilities. Then I obsess about it. And, when I get my brain going, it doesn’t stop. Always a civil war going on in my head. The universe in my mind and my thoughts is so expansive. It can be its own little black hole. Impossible to escape a black hole, right? Same with my mind and my thoughts.

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Dating sloppy seconds…

Considering making this the title of my book…

I suppose everyone who goes out with anyone is dating someone’s ex. Someone’s “sloppy seconds”. Well…that’s what I was told I was doing by someone’s ex. Oh…the stories I could write about all the assholes in this town and what they say about their exes.

Does that make anyone feel better to call their ex “sloppy seconds”? I think anyone who dates my ex husband is getting a gem of a man. I can only hope she loves him for him and not his address nor his money. Seems like everyone has an ulterior motive. Can’t we just like someone because of who they are in the inside and not what material bullshit they bring to the table? Why does anyone refer to their exes as “sloppy seconds”? Does that make them feel better? Feel superior to you? Ummm…isn’t one man’s trash another man’s gold? Errr…women’s ex? So you dumped him. You were done. I get it. Doesn’t make him trash or sloppy seconds. Does it? Read More