Did You Look In The Mirror?


Before you get your panties all up in a wad and assume this is going to be a judgemental post about how women dress, please read it first, then feel free to comment…or don’t.

I grew up in the 80’s where the less you wore the better. We had holes in our jeans where holes shouldn’t technically be, unless you’re going for the red long underwear with an open flap in the back kind of look. Then underneath those “holy” jeans were neon colored fish net stalkings with matching stilettos. If jeans weren’t on the menu then mini skirts were, with the same fishnet / stiletto combo.  Our shirts were more of a crop midriff piece of cloth or another piece of clothing with holes cut into it, with our bras showing which may or may not match our fish nets.  Then there were the over sized shirts we would try to pass as a “mini dress”.  All of these outfits were complete with BIG hair and enough Aquanet to cover the earth, huge earrings and makeup plastered on our face.  80’s hairband groupy was the fashion.

It seems every decade we women lose a little bit more clothing as we go, except for the grunge 90’s…where showering was apparently optional.  None the less, we women are still losing an uphill battle when it comes to fashion and what we think we need to wear for ANY occasion.

For example: the nipple shot


Ladies, unless you’re feeding your infant…keep your radio nobs under wraps. If you chose the shirt that shows me enough cleavage that I can see what you had for lunch by the amount of crumbs stuck in there, what are you trying to tell me?   What are you telling my teenager, toddler or little girl? Breasts were given to us by God for the sole purpose of feeding our babies, yes they are adored by our men who find our breasts to be “udderly” sexy.  Yet it blows me away how many women are “completely” offended by a woman breast-feeding her infant, but don’t bat an eye at a woman who meant to dress like this above gal showcasing her nipples.  Double standards? Maybe.

Next example: Stretch pants/yoga pants


I remember when the women’s leotard was in fashion in 1981 after Olivia Newton John’s single & video “Physical” came out. Headbands, leotards and bodysuits were all the fashion…AT THE GYM! Never did we go out in public, grocery shopping or to the restaurant wearing that!  I had a much more crude picture as an example, but I didn’t want to offend any of my established readers. Bottom line: if I can see the details of your vaginal area because of your yoga / stretch pants, you ought to consider wearing a long enough shirt to cover that area or switch to looser fitting pants. Seeing the details and veins of a man’s penis in a leotard is scaring enough for a child, why do you think your vagina is any different?

Last example: the reverse plumbers butt


Whether your cheeks are hanging out the bottom of your shorts or skirts, or exploding out the top of your hip hugging jeans WITH your g-string showing…explain this to me.  Do you not realize that no matter how long or for how short of a time you sit on a toilet you end up with a red ring crease around your arse?  Do you really want to bring awareness to your toileting schedule?  Do you realize how weird this really looks?

Ladies why not be honest with ourselves and admit why we would be dressing like this in the first place, or at least ask yourself the question and look at the real underlying answer.  The only answer there really is should smack you right in the face…ADVERTISING.  You dress this way to find a man, get a man, date a man and with the end result of marrying the man. Then once you have said man do you keep dressing this way? If you do, why? If you don’t, why not?

If you do, is it because he only likes you looking this way? If so, he doesn’t really love you unconditionally incase you were wondering. Or if you do, are doing it to keep turning heads?  This makes you appear to be very insecure and that’s sad.

If you don’t dress this way once you have your man then why not?  Is it because now that you have him you don’t care what you look like anymore? Then you are answering your own question as to why you dressed that way in the first place…advertising.  If it’s because your man said you had to stop, then I wonder why he asked this of you? Why was this dress acceptable to him before when he first met you, but not now? Is he controlling or insecure?

There’s no easy answer to any of this.  We grew up with clothing requirements the minute we were born. Girls wear pink and boys wear blue. Girls wear dresses and boy wear pants.  Us girls had to wear shorts under our dresses in elementary school so we could still play on the monkey bars at recess.  Clothing matters. It represents status quo, popularity and it showcases our goods.  Why do we women feel that we must dress provocatively to get a man?  According to God, our bodies are our temple and shall be treated as such and our bodies were meant for our husband’s eyes only.  We’re you taught this value or moral?  When did we lose this value?  Did this value get taken from you by your rapist or abuser?  Did your mother care enough to even teach it to you?  Did you even grow up with a mom figure?  We’re you not taught that beauty comes from within?  What are you teaching your daughter, niece, little sister, cousin, students or wards about how to dress and be loved and admired?  Do you realize you are a role model for anyone and everyone?

When deciding what to wear – look at yourself in the mirror, bend over, raise your arms, move around a bit…if ANYTHING is revealed, try something different.

I unapologetically believe that all women have a privilege and responsibility to be an example of strength, confidence and beauty – all of which are more adeptly demonstrated when we dress modestly and appropriately for all occasions.

I am over 45 years old and I didn’t start seeing this value until 9 years ago.  My body belongs to God, myself and my husband.  I find it better to leave a little to the imagination of what I look like without clothes on, than to advertise every inch of my body to the world.

Be an open book with your mind, your thoughts and dreams and aspirations…not with your body.



ˈviktəmnoun: victim; plural noun: victims
*a person harmed, injured, or killed as a result of a crime, accident, or other event or action.
synonyms: sufferer, injured party, casualty; fatality, loss; “a victim of crime”
*a living creature killed as a religious sacrifice.
synonyms: sacrifice, offering, burnt offering, scapegoat “he offered himself as a victim”
I never knew how it felt to be a victim of a trauma. It’s not taught in school, it wasn’t spoken of growing up and it’s not something you think about until you see or experience it first hand.
After my initial experience of a personal trauma that I recognized as a real trauma…my life would never be the same because of it. To me the act itself is & isn’t important to being a victim, just being labeled “victim” impacted me severely.
The word “victim” has been thrown around society and used as such a cleche. Like the word “love” for example. It’s used in so many different forms that it’s lost its luster of its true meaning.  For example “I love that movie” to “I love my son”.  Same word two meanings.  Same goes for “victim”. I hear it used so sarcastically like “Oh geez you’re such a victim” to “The victims of 9/11”.  Same word used so differently.
My trauma impact was 90% emotional. I didn’t have any proof via broken bones, physical bruising, amputation, physical paralysis, no gushing blood or surgical incisions. Isn’t that what a victim is supposed to have?  Wait…no?  So how will anyone know I’m a victim?  How do I explain this to people like my doctor, family, pastor, banker or employer?  What the fuck am I to do next?  Stand up on a soapbox on a street corner yelling I’M BROKEN PEOPLE! SOMEONE HELP ME I’M BROKEN!  Since that option is apparently ridiculous what else can I do?  Ah ha…the police is who I tell right?  For some of my traumas…yes I tell or told the police. Did they believe me?  FUCK NO!  Did they care?  FUCK NO AGAIN! Why?  Some of what happened to me wasn’t illegal, some of what happened it’s validity was questioned, some of it was lack of training for the patrolman sent to my home and only one on my list came to a conviction of the accused…which took a year to prove was happening to me.
I thought if I was a victim people would believe me once they knew “my story”. One of the most painful things in life is to be a true victim and no one believe you nor the impact it has / had on you. It’s like being victimized all over again. Then maybe a year goes by and those that know you and what happened to you say things like “Aren’t you over this yet” “Why are you still dwelling on this” “You just need to move on” “The past is the past”.  Please know that by saying this to someone who was victimized is revictimizing them again, it’s destructive, inconsiderate, rude, uncaring and quite frankly FUCKED UP!  You’re also at risk of getting throat punched by me.  Whether the trauma happened 1 to 80 years ago…trauma is extremely difficult, healing takes time and the PTSD it caused can or will rear it’s ugly head down the road.
Whether or not you can see the trauma physically or not, it’s the victims reality and their truth. They didn’t purchase it nor ask for it, but they now own it….like a painful cancer that can’t be cut out easily.  The healing process is as hard as the event (s).
By the way…I HATE BEING A VICTIM;;;;;

The “trauma” list

The list of traumatic events I am sharing with you are not going to contain dates nor specific details. I feel that the details are not important to discuss with anyone at this time, I may share some details down the road, but I need to protect myself and my recovery process. Plus I need to protect any one person or group of people involved, as I have not asked for their permission to use their names nor do I choose to want to.
The list will be in chronological order, but again dates will not be used. I also know that I am opening myself up to judgement, criticism and doubt; which has played a huge role to hindering my recovery process in the past. However, if you are reading this and find it to be fake, false, pathetic, ridiculous, shameful, ignorant, you can’t agree with it or some other form of negativity; do yourself a favor and stop reading my posts and don’t waste your time sending me an email or comment.
This is my story, my experience and my truth; no one can take that away from me. I am not here to convince anyone of MY truth. I am here to hopefully help another human being suffering like me to not feel alone.


Deep breath…..holy shit……here it goes:
  1. Father moved out / parents divorced
  2. Abused by narcissistic & alcoholic     mother
  3. Date raped as a teenager
  4. Infant son kidnapped by his father under false motives for 3 months
  5. Stalked for 2 years by an acquaintance through work, convicted, served no jail time
  6. Mother died of cirrhosis from alcoholism
  7. Attacked & strangled by unknown  assailant
  8. Casualty of domestic violence / verbal  & physical
  9. Personal addiction from PTSD relapse
May I never have to add another item to this list. I believe it would be the final straw to break this camels back.

Welcome to the pig

Welcome to the pig

Upon being newly diagnosed with Complex-Post Traumatic Stress Disorder I did what any person would do that never heard of it before; I Googled it. There were a myriad of websites explaining what it is from a professional standpoint; but nothing from the afflicted standpoint.  

I am thrilled that there is finally a diagnosis that fits me! It’s as if this diagnosis was made just for me, because let’s face it, when you read the list of all of my traumas combined…it makes me look like a pretty fucked up individual.

With that said, I’m tired of hiding in the shadows of multiple levels of PTSD, depression, anxiety and panic attacks. My disease is not an anomaly; for some it’s down right frightening or overwhelming to know it exists. For others, like me it’s a way of life.

So here I am, newly diagnosed with C-PTSD and I want you to join me on my path of recovery, treatment and my ups and downs. I’m hoping my voice can help another person afflicted with this not feel so alone in doing so. Hopefully if you have recently been diagnosed or thinking you have this, you can read my blog and maybe have some moments of “me too” or “yes that’s me”.

I have had to walk around for years with this disease, doing my best not to “look” like a train wreck. Trying to keep it together because so many people wanted me to fail, yes people wanted me to fail. Fail as a mom, as a person, as a co-worker or as a wife. The standard people are held to by others is jacked up!  Which is why I am calling my blog “Lipstick on the Pig”. Because no matter how much makeup, facades, costumes, degrees, initials after your name or plastic surgery you get…it doesn’t change how dead or gross you can feel inside. Like lipstick on a pig. 💄🐖

Welcome to my blog and adventure, as I’ve never done anything like this before. Deep breath….holy shit.

“Everything we change changes everything- We need to stop cursing the darkness and start lighting some candles!” (Batterson)