Tag: personal

amwriting, books, Clubs, fiction, Human Interest, Inspiration, Novels, Opinion, Reflection, Revelations

Why Does Family Hurt So Much?

Reba Nietert

In a time when holidays are coming up, I have to ask myself, “why do I try so hard to keep the peace?”  Falling on the cross has become a necessary component of keeping those family members who judge unjustly at bay.  For me, I have been told I am “weird, emotional, unable to respect, worthless,” and often an “outsider” until became an adult and left the wholeness of my family behind me.

My family is predominately brunette, with dark eyes, and darker olive colored skin. They tan easily, they have thick manes of black or brownish hair and they all have hourglass figures. Smaller breasted, and big on the bottom. The majority of them are short, stocky built, with almost French looking features.  I on the other hand am tall, statuesque with lanky arms and long legs. I am thin, sometimes pencil thin, no hips, and blonde hair. So, for me, I look different.  I became the “white sheep” of my family.

Those wounds never truly healed for several years, not until a seminar in 1998 cracked the bonds that tied me to the baggage of disappointing rejections I received.  It was in that seminar when I began to put the pieces of my life and the tragic understanding of violent events unfolded before my eyes in a memory that I could only experience as a child, having all but forgotten most of the memories. See, when you’re an adult and you’re reminded of painful memories, you don’t recall them with an adult intellectual brain, they bubble up with all the emotions of the age you were when it happened.  Yeah, to say it was a painful process is an understatement.

I don’t bring these things up to cause you to think for one minute I am a victim nor that I am triumphant in my ability to raise out of that. I tell you these things because later – much later in my life I understood why God brought me through the immeasurable pain that others inflicted so that he could believe the promises of my desires.  Yes, that happened too.  I also bring them up because I have something to say about the emotional brain that we get into because of our families lies about us. You see, the deceiver uses these wicked hurts to keep us in the bondage of our faithlessness.  As long as we’re focused on the pain it’s hard to get to thankfulness for the blessings we do have.  That’s not from God nor is that what he wants of us.

The other day one of my family members said I live in a fairyland.  They wondered if I am a liar, that what I went through wasn’t real. That it didn’t happen.  Certainly not the way I said it did.  I used to personalize and question myself when I heard these lies. I no longer do.  Maybe the reason I do not personalize their truth as my own is the very reason I never told them in the first place? I didn’t want to suffer through more humiliation than the crime that had already been assaulted on me.

If you’re struggling with pain, hurt, processing through the grief of disappointing acts that are keeping you in the burden of your transgressors please I beg you to forgive them.  Take your power back. Do not let the burden of their rejection put you in a place of no value, of unwittingly giving up your power or your voice.  You can be around them once again as soon as you give no power to the words they say.  Don’t defend yourself or your actions, knowing that only YOU are the one who can make you feel in any manner. No one can force you to feel anything without your permission.

God sees all of us as treasured children of the Kingdom of the Most High God.  Today instead of listening to the dialog you tell yourself, “I am not good enough, She makes more money than me, they’re doing better than I am, they’re not treating me right”–realize you are worth more than rubies and gold. God desires for you to be thankful, to change your perspective to see His blessings. He wants to give all that has ever been promised to you, but it takes you to lay down the burden the deceiver has placed upon your heart.  Ask the Holy Spirit to come into your life and refresh your soul, to make you new again, to seek those like minded who can fill that soul so much that it embraces all the good in store for you.

Take care,

Rebecca Nietert

amwriting, Inspiration, Uncategorized

Forgiving Ones Self is Harder!

Reba Nietert

When you have an extensive network, and you know a lot of people, you feel blessed when you can say you have more than five intimate friends. All my life, people have moved me from one house to another, from one city to another, and from one state to another. Networking became second nature.

Last night I learned that a man I’ve known for seven years passed away suddenly. He was a heavy drinker when I knew him, but that increased over time and the profound sadness of losing both his parents ended with the crescendo of Sorosis of the liver and failure of his kidneys. What could have been completely avoidable, ended by taking his life.

The minute I heard, thoughts of how I could’ve reached out flooded my soul. The guilt of not keeping in touch, not cultivating, not even picking up the phone to see if he was okay, because he was such a alpha male, that it never occurred to me he wouldn’t be okay?!

Which brings me to the topic of this discussion. It’s so much easier to forgive others when they offend us, then it is to forgive ourselves for our transgressions. How do you forgive yourself when you know there is something you could have done and yet did nothing? What are the steps that you take to forgive yourself?

Guilt is poison! You can’t hold onto it! It cannot be resolved! It is the toxic chemical that poisons your soul and your mind. Living with guilt is harder than living with pain or sadness because it is all consuming. Releasing that guilt is what is necessary, but when you have the understanding the fault lies with in your actions, how do you get to resolution?

Thoughts?!

Inspiration

Courage vs Bravery

Reba Nietert

In writing my character of the latest book, “Provocative Confessions,” I realized that I was trying really hard to explain why my heroine’s confidence was so badly shaken.  She has to learn that she’s always had the courage to live the life she wants. Something that oddly my readers have remarked, “she keeps doing over and over.”

One of the things that is apparent to me, is that change of ourselves is the hardest thing to do.  We hold these lies to be our truth, and those lies come from the people who have promised to adore us, but hurt us the most.  It’s no wonder the fear takes root and sometimes getting to the courage is harder than it may seem. Further most of us don’t really show our vulnerability and so we fight that battle alone.  The sense of unsureness, or that ever looming self doubt that sometimes stops us from having what we want the most.  In fact it seems that the very thing we fear, is exactly what we cause to happen.

A friend of mine, declares.  She has a wicked sense of justice and a strong understanding of biblical principals. I’ve learned that it is her opinion that people declare what they want in their lives, and in doing so get what they spend the most energy on.  Thoughts become our actions, our actions become our character, and so on.  Thank you CK, your steadfast maturity has really brought me to greater understanding, and I am profoundly grateful, you don’t hold me in contempt for my humanness. Your non-judgmental approach is epically refreshing.

In truth the word, “Brave,” shows up in the Old Testament of the NIV, 19 times.  It only shows up a few more times in other translations.  In the context of battling or fights of some sort you can see the word, “Brave,” only in the NIV and NOT in the New Testaments of the NIV, ESV, NRSV or the NASB.  Why do you suppose that is?

Websters Dictionary says that “Brave” means “adjective, brav·er, brav·est. 1. possessing or exhibiting courage or courageous endurance. 2. making a fine appearance. 3. Archaic. excellent; fine; admirable.”  While I believe that is true, I think that to me Bravery is an action without thought, based solely on instinct and action.  It’s in the moment action, not well thought out or even bias.  It’s pure adrenaline induced.

My character is not brave. She’s thoughtful, and she’s complicated. She has a lot fears because she’s been hurt a LOT.  She’s been moved from the only place she felt she truly belonged into a world she thought she’d left behind. The north and the cold and the contemptuous people who live in it.  When she found herself back the midst of the friends who promise loyalty but deliver only betrayal, well, it’s more than shaken her confidence in her natural instincts. It brought her back to an brokenness she thought she’d left far behind.  She must learn that the courage is in her, she just has to choose it over the fear to perceive her life in the way she needs to find ultimate joy.  Only then can she live the life she wants on her own terms.

The dictionary says the word, “Courage,” is  a noun: “1. the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery. 2. Obsolete. the heart as the source of emotion.”  Yes, it’s a noun verses an actionable reaction.  To me, that means that the 35 verses of courage that I know of in the bible (all of them) mean that overcoming fear is what we need to do.  Yes, “Bravery” to act on that choice is the last action, but courageousness comes from making a conscious choice to overcome that which as spent a long time torturing your mind and robbing you of your joy.

When I write my characters, I am constantly and acutely aware that each of us has all the good we could possibly see in each other.  I am also equally aware that just as we see what each other want us to see, something deep inside is lurking.  Some lie we’ve told ourselves. Some comparison we’ve just made.  Some shortcoming that we’ve indulged in. We all do it.  We all have that in us, even those who boast they do not, trust me they do.

Today as I close the chapter in this book and thereby get to the ending, hopefully helping my readers understand that the perfect season doesn’t last forever.  Life takes it’s ugly hand and events happen beyond or understanding or control.  I hope that in this new book, you can see the growth of Beverly through her self doubt, and fall in love with her again as the courage bubbles up.  She gets justified results from the women who have treated her in the worst of ways, and ultimately she falls back in the arms of her husband who miraculously ends up saving the day. Of course, we all have to believe in fairytales, miracles, and happily ever after… Well, at least I do!

Take care,

Reba Nietert

Human Interest, Inspiration, Opinion, Reflection, Revelations, The Children

Even Tweens Need a Little Hug

Reba Nietert

Did you ever have a moment when you want to sit down and ponder what just happened? How did my teenage or pre-teen daughter get so mean? I know she has real kindness in there? I’ve seen it with me. I felt the hugs. I know the love exists and yet somehow when this beautiful little girl turned thirteen, hormones changed my angel?

You’re not alone.  There’s numerous articles about this very topic!  Sometimes the impulsivity is just too much for their little minds and bodies to control. One thing I do is remind myself that if they were functioning adults and capable of determining what they should or shouldn’t do at any given moment I wouldn’t have to parent them.  Kids will of course be kids, and that’s okay.

Dr. Dobson says that kids have the right to test us, and we have the right not to allow them to get away with doing it inappropriately.  So when my little tester says things such as, “I hate you!” I simply look at her adoringly and remind her that no matter what she says or does my love is all enduring and will continue without condition.  Then of course I redirect more respectful communication because there is a line.

What I want to encourage is that line is movable.  Find out what battle has to be won and go with that. Everything else chalk up to the guilt she’ll feel once she has her own child and realizes how she’s treated you. Just know that’s coming. Honestly, it will.  So for now just hold steadfast in knowing that she doesn’t need you to be a friend no matter how interesting she’s becoming. She needs a strong and strict mom to set rules, determine justice and to keep the building of character/character/character.  That’s all you can do and the rest will work it’s way out.

Most of all, BREATHE!  Find other moms who are in the same boat and lean on them.  Have  your 10 minute rants and be done with it.  Finalize that to resolution and get back at it. They’re your precious babies even if they’ve grown into sarcastic and outspoken disrespectful tyrants from time to time. It’s their job to break the status quo.  It’s your job to reel them back in.  Also remember to HUG even if they don’t want it. Mom, they NEED it. So don’t feel the push back, just do it.

Have a cocktail with me tonight and as I clink the ever present imaginary wine glass (mine is stemless) I lift and salute a great mom who’s doing the best she can!  May every day make you feel as included and loved as possible, and may your children some day call you blessed.  Amen.

Human Interest, Inspiration, Reflection, Revelations, The Children

Epically Unfun

Reba Nietert

Very much like the title says, I have been told I am “epically unfun” by my three teens. When I remind them that the ONLY time I get cross with them is 1. When they do not do what they’re asked, 2. When they lie and tell me they did what was asked, 3. Go out of their way to complain or whine about what they have to do, and finally 4. Throw an attitude and make what’s asked of them torture for those around.  I explain that if they were pleasant with the knowledge that they have been given so much despite what they’ve lost; they should learn at their age that reciprocation is part of the deal.

What surprises me at every turn is how fundamentally wrong I am with the expectations. I expect kids to be decent little happy beings?  My bad!  Kids are great when you’re doting on them, giving them things, telling them how much you love them, but speak of disappointment and they turn into the little devils they are with all the eye rolling of a teenage queen and the lip speak of satan himself.

The thing is that in my head I think, “Well, they will understand if I just explain it to them.” You know what that brings? More opportunity for them to use my words against me, to manipulate an outcome they would rather have, and ultimately I still end up being the bad guy. I wonder, is it this hard for all parents?

Some people will “hate” on the truth that kids are not always the angelic creatures that they show on TV.  Kids are sometimes filled with contempt for their parents.  Kids who have lost parents like mine have conjure even more sympathy than normal.  If you set them in line parents want to tell you, “Well, they’ve lost their parents.” As though you don’t already know.  Rules have to be followed, restrictions and boundaries are part of life and ultimately building character isn’t easy.  Let’s face it we all wish we could have ice cream parties and cake.  At some point the daily list of homework, chores, and simply being respectful is going to come up.

I have to remind myself that I have been here before. I’ve raised two amazing adult children.  Both independent and capable of achieving great success.  They’re fine, despite I always felt like I was flying by the seat of my pants.  These kids will be too. Not because I’m a great drill sergeant, but because I love them.  My boundaries are to tell them they have restrictions they shouldn’t cross in life.  My rules are to teach them independence. My firmness comes from the fact that I know that unless they are successful in being in a harsh world when they’re of age, they won’t be happy.  It’s in love that I commit to teaching them there is a way to accomplish goals, and then there is just being lazy. You cannot do both.

Sadly, I still sit and wonder how I can say something and it be turned into something completely different from it’s intent. I sigh, heavily sometimes. I wonder if anything I do will enhance any part of who they are to become.  I wonder if they love me in some small way or if they even know the harshness of the circumstances we find ourselves in.  What do they really think? How do they feel?

I have to do what I think is best and hope that flying by the seat of my very wildly inappropriate pants won’t cause harm or foul to these precious souls I love with every fiber of my being. I pray that if I can sometimes get myself out of the way, they might actually learn the lessons they need to, and hopefully one day find happiness of their own. That’s what I think about all the time.

Inspiration, Reflection

Time to Serve Only You

Reba Nietert

One of the hardest things for me to do is to ask for something for myself because after I ask, I feel selfish.  In the era I grew up, women were taught to be “quiet about” the things that they could do better than a man. We were put in our places, told that we had a place along side a man, but certainly never in front of one.  Biblically we were taught that a woman’s place is in supporting her husband. The community of men aspired to get that message out to every single woman.  So, when it came time for me to want a little alone time (something every human on the planet SHOULD have) I felt selfish.

Today, I sit here knowing that after 3 harsh months of school, activities, behavior modification for the kids, husband schedules, date nights, friends, family, and my adult children I feel horrible that this is the first day I got to sleep in. What’s going through my mind? The numerous things I SHOULD be doing not the numerous things I COULD be doing. Instead of taking the day off for me, or carving out some much needed writing time, in my head is a laundry list of items that still need checked off.  “Ortho appointment for the eldest.” Check.  “Dry cleaning for my husband.” Check. “Pick up kids at three separate times.” Check. “Plan dinner so husband isn’t mad.” Check. “Take dog for grooming.” Check… and the list goes on and on. So much so that I honestly do not have two consecutive hours of my own.  There’s no time between travel and duty.

Nights offer no downtime because the kids are old enough to go to be at 10 o’ clock.  So after dinner, homework, activities and being available to “look at” my husband as I listen while he talks, there is no room to escape for some me time.  Life becomes all about pleasing someone else, and the more you do, the more they have no concept of the lengths that you go to make them feel included, happy, fulfilled; until you’re brain is completely fried and you’re an empty shell.  It’s a mother’s life and we have all felt those moments from time to time.  Serving other’s is a powerful gift, but when is it time to serve yourself?

My advice, is to do it. It’s that simple. Put off the chores and take a day off.  Go do whatever it is that fills your cup.  Whatever brings you a blissful moment.  If you have to ask in advance, stop beating yourself up. Your husband clocks out. Your kids some home. Your friends can wait.  You never clock out. You keep going like that annoying pink Energizer rabbit.  It’s time to replenish the batteries and NOT feel guilty for it.

Psychology today says, “Being alone allows you to drop your “social guard”, thus giving you the freedom to be introspective, to think for yourself. You may be able to make better choices and decisions about who you are and what you want without outside influence. Often, we are swayed by the thoughts, feelings, attitudes, beliefs, and behavior of those in our immediate sphere. Of course, you may ask others for their advice and opinions but ultimately, consulting yourself and making up your own mind about what you want to do will lead you into the life that’s best for you.”

Don’t wait. Make today great. Make it about you.  It’s normal and it’s so very necessary. For me? I am going to Louisiana to see my adult kids for one weekend. I’m leaving behind the people who need me the most so that I can gain a newer perspective about where I should lead them, about how much patience I should have and maybe gain some joy along my journey.  Just a moment of peace.  That’s all I ask. For me.

Inspiration, The Children

Focus on Your Bigger Picture

Reba Nietert

Sometimes I think the hardest thing for me is to wrap my head around the bigger picture of raising these three precious children. One barely 14, one barely 12, and the last barely 11.

There are therapy sessions that asked us to complete homework such as listing glad, sad, and mad moments throughout the week. These homework assignments bringing to light new sense of accountability. Not just for the children but also for us adults who take great pride in setting positive role model examples for them. It’s not enough to just get through the day when you were trying to bring joy to children who otherwise have known only sadness.

It’s very easy to get wrapped up in the arguments and the bickering to earn respect between siblings. It’s very easy to be quickly angered and set an immediate consequential tone, but that doesn’t really solve the love problem. Teaching love after such tremendous loss is what God called us to do. That is our journey.

It’s really easy to lose my patience when it seems that there’s a lot of redirection, all lot of teaching and a lot of character development. I couldn’t call myself a real mom if I didn’t believe that I could do the job. There are moments when I have my doubts. More often than not, I whisper to myself, “I got this.” The truth in the matter is that there is no alternative, so the choice is not an option.

As a parent we all have moments that we question our ability or being excepted or if what we do will gain the respect and love of those we care for? We carry guilt and happiness and sadness and go through all the trials and tribulations that our children do. This is just a little reminder that there is the bigger picture and the next time you feel like you just want to grab that bottle of wine and slam it down with some gal pal‘s—Well, maybe that’s exactly what you need to do. After all, every woman needs to fill her cup before she can pour for others.

Inspiration, Reflection

Making Difficult Changes

Reba Nietert

Today we put an offer on a home that doesn’t feed into the school system the kids are in. I have mixed feelings. For months since school began this semester both girls pleaded with me to reinvent themselves somewhere where people didn’t know their back story. I have been tortured with this decision.

Their mom, Jen, built a beautiful city of amazing mom’s I truly connected with. I wish we could have become closer friends but that never happened. Partly because I was absent a lot or flying by the seat of my pants when I was here. Partly because everyone has an opinion of the choices I make and sadly they don’t think I’m making the right ones.

It’s hard to be under such a microscope. One is gifted, two have very special needs. Add local family drama and a whole slew of brand new modifications to their little worlds and you have one exhausted guardian.

I wish I could reassure those who say bring them to God, he’ll fix it. I’ve taught them the story of Jesus and will continue. To the ladies who forever wonder about their academic success, I’m paying attention. They’ve got A’s and B’s. To the people who question their state of mind, they see professionals. To the ones who fret about their loss; please know they’re so very loved. They want for nothing.

Sami rides horses. She and I do yoga. Laura plays piano and dances in addition to preparing for cross country. Brandon has 4 activities outside of school and many inside. Each child has 100% of my attention and focus on making them productive and happy adults.

I wish I could be the woman that others feel free to just be themselves around. I wish I could have kept what Jen created going. I’m not, and I know that my focus should be on building the village. I’m just so focused on keeping my family close, inclusion, tolerance, kindness and all the motivators and numerous activities that teach that.

When you hear about me moving them, before you judge me for my choices, put yourself in my shoes. There’s no way you could possibly know the daily struggles without knowing me. What you read on FB, or Twitter or see in a snap is a moment in the window of our complicated lives. We’re all just trying to get through the day.

If you’d like to remain friends ladies, please reach out. My life is overwhelmed with duty and I could really use some gal pals right about now! I’m always listening.

Inspiration

The First Birthday … After…

Reba Nietert

Today is my darling daughter’s 11th birthday.  I say “daughter” because she’s part of my new family, my new reality and she’s grown herself into the depths of my heart.  She’s not biological but nonetheless, she’s the breath of fresh air every single day. I am so honored her parents agreed to allow me to raise her after their passing.

Today I get to have lunch at the school with her. I get to bring her a cupcake and a little bag of treats. I get to see her smile, and hear her laugh. I get to see the happiness that will bring on her face, and part of me feels guilt because it’s not her momma.  Not her real one anyway. I cannot help but think Jennifer, her mom, is up in heaven wishing beyond all that is natural that today it could be her in front of her daughter.

Often, I bow my head and I cry. Not for me.  For the loss the two of them must feel.  I only hope that the gifts I buy, the cakes I serve, or the numerous silly kisses will wash away the pain of understanding that this is the very first birthday without either of her parents.  Will she think of them? I hope so. Will she be sad? I pray only moments.

Today I feel blessed. Completely and utterly focused on raising her and her two siblings the best I can. It can be so overwhelming. The challenges of raising three traumatized kids, but my husband and I wouldn’t turn away from our responsibility no matter what. We love them just as though they’ve been with us since birth.  That won’t ever change.

Inspiration, Uncategorized

Being Kind Should Be Easy

Reba Nietert

Today I told someone I am about as transparent as I can be. I thought I was!

I tell people about my life-my circumstances-my choices all the time. What was pointed out to me, was that it seemed, “unbelievable.”  The person to whom I was vocalizing my past in an almost chronological newsworthy kind of way, revealed that to them my words seemed shallow.  As I listened further, I learned that she felt I was lying due to the limited emotional attachment to some pretty heavy circumstances. I thought, You know what? She may be right?

I am a survivor. That is undeniable. I lived through a ton of crap, all to become this tough passionatly tenacious cookie everyone sees.  Whatever happened to the girl inside? What happened the young woman that actually felt all that pain? Had I learned so well to forgive, that I no longer have emotional attachment to the pain? Or have I just entered a PTSD scenario, where I push all my feeling inward? That’s my modus operandi, so when she informed me of her perceptions I had to pause. I asked myself one seriously mind-boggling question. Am I still able to feel after all this time? After all that’s happened? Can I allow myself to let the pain in?

My internal dialog seemed to continue without my permission in an almost audacious fashion. I wondered, Do I allow others to see me feel pain? When was the last time I could remember feeling emotions of empathy or sorrow? The outer shell that I strategically placed around my feelings all those years ago cracked, and for one moment insecurity swept through me, just as if I had full-body entered a cool-pool of water. My brain betrayed me.

I spent the afternoon postulating that I had opened some form of flood gate.  My emotions all over the place reeked havoc. I decided the only place I was safe from altering my perspective was solitude. I went home. Retreated. Left in a massive hurry to collect my thoughts. To do something to get my rejection compartmentalized, and then it hit me.  I am doing exactly what I feared. I suppressed the pain of rejection so that I can move forward. She was right. I had no feeling in my story when I spoke to her. It was if it happened to someone else the way I told it.  Who wouldn’t feel like I was lying?

Survivors deal with things in a whole different way than people who have never had darkness in their life.  People who have life challenges like separating parents, or divorce, or financial difficulties, have tough circumstances they have to go through. I don’t want to make light of that pain. What I have learned is it’s a whole different thing to be a victim of something you didn’t do, and couldn’t control. It changes everything. It’s altering, to some life shattering, and at best burdensome to endure. Add several life circumstances back to back and you should have one blazing nut job!  (I may seem a little nutty but I assure you I am sane.)

If I am as transparent as I tout, shouldn’t I be willing to put some humanness in my story? Shouldn’t that include a touch of sentiment? Inflection in my voice? Some sense of burden I carry? So that maybe when anyone should hear of my successes, they will comprehend the great courage that it took to get there? If you were listening would it matter to you?

I sit here this evening compartmentalizing all that I have felt today so that I can make sense of the things that I recall. I have to go through forgiveness drills so that I can wake in the morning with a new perspective to touch another with hope. I really pray that my message is heard. That message being that there is someone who was strong enough to overcome much of the same circumstances causing them pain. There is someone who believes that if you want to change who you are, to become who you think you should be, you can.  Life can be filled with joy!

If I can share this with you, I hope that when you see someone who seemingly has no emotion, who is just as rigid in stance or maybe composed as I was earlier, you will know that there is a flood of something going on down deep. There is a story there. Everyone has an untold story. Everyone is a real person with real feelings, who has triggers that will set them off.  Everyone has a sense of being uncomfortable in a very unforgiving world.  Show love. Show compassion.

I put my ego back in check. I chalked the experience up to a lesson learned. Each one of us is different in how we process our pain. I will inject some kind of personal emotion when I tell my stories now. I have to. I want to include others when I engage in conversation. I want people to know I am sincere when I type what has happened. I want to connect on a personal level.

The last thing I want someone to feel about me is that I am attempting to remain shallow. So while her rejection prompted a childlike reflex, and subsequent retraction from people, I am glad that she spoke to me with truth. I am not afraid of introspection. It’s part of my growth process, and I hope and pray that you too find it part of your growth too. We cannot change what we need to without knowing what it is that we need to change.