Transsexuals, Sex Reassignment Surgeries & Prostitution In Barcelona — Edge of Humanity Magazine

Photographer Paola de Grenet is the Edge of Humanity Magazine contributor of this social documentary photography. From her project ‘Life as a Transsexual‘. To see Paola’s body of work click on any image. Barcelona is a liberal city with a vast community of gays, travesties and transsexuals. It is a […]

via Transsexuals, Sex Reassignment Surgeries & Prostitution In Barcelona — Edge of Humanity Magazine

yeah, ok …

So,as I sit here downloading more episodes of Dora the bloody explorer, for moko #4’s impending arrival … listening to the fire roaring, cos its also bloody freezing … feeling toasty in my birthday slippers … and looking super comfy with my Nanny bun on top of my head …

A thought occurs …

‘When did I stop being gangster?’


on grooming ~ responding #8

so defined by aunty google as:

gerund or present participle: grooming
  • 1.
    brush and clean the coat of (a horse, dog, or other animal).
    “the horses were groomed and taken to shows”
  • 2.
    prepare or train (someone) for a particular purpose or activity.
    “star pupils who are groomed for higher things”
    synonyms: prepare, prime, make ready, ready, condition, tailor; More

    And what does this have to do with Me?

    lets re-google and quote the learned Urban Dictionary:

    The act of luring another with gifts, favors, promises, praise, or bbqribs with the intent of gaining sexual favors. The perpetrator of “grooming” must have a significant advantage of emotional intelligence, financial independence, intelligence quotient or simply perpetrating against a minor.

    Please Note:

The perp must have a significant advantage of … etc.

But where does “having a motive or intention to do something in your own favour, without the ‘recipient’ knowing your motive or intention” fit into that equation?

You see, people ‘groom’ others everyday.


Yes they do.

For instance.

I want the last piece of cake. I could get up in the middle of the night and eat it. My intention is to have it by all means necessary you see. But instead … I do the following:

“Have you put on a bit of weight?

“Those pants look a little tight … but it suits you … sort of …

“Are you still watching your sugar intake?

“You seem a little OTT today? Have you had extra sugar?


And then come the end of the day, when I ask:

“Do you want the last piece of cake sweetheart?

You Say …. Ahhhh No thanks, think I need to watch my weight and sugar intake … help yourself 🙂


So, has this all been a manipulative process – with method and intent – to get what I want?

Sure has!

And it worked a treat!

And does this occur everyday in nearly every situation we are put into?

Yup, it certainly fucking does. Too lesser or greater variations.

So as a heads up.

I Do Not Like Being Groomed.

Not for anything. Ever.

And as for intent …

I smell your intention long before you’ve entered the room.

Previous sexual assault, and living with its effects, gives Me a dam fine snout when it comes to that sort of bullshit.

And that right there is an A.1 positive fucking outcome that I am embracing the living shit out of right now!

mauri of me #17

slow and steady.

little by little

my view is changing

i know it is

i can feel it,

see it.

what i notice,

is the same,

but better.

who i notice,

is the same,

but different.


i knew i would

i could

just didn’t know

how, or when.


i’m a resourceful bish

like that.


366 reasons to smile ~ +113.

+113. This was Me and my Italian dinner making 🙂

a good amount of time responding …

My blog(s) have a purpose.

a. they let me respond. or have a voice. a voice that has been sadly lacking and not been heard, for 40 odd years.

*Note: not that I haven’t tried. I’ve spent a lot of time fighting to be heard. But that is also a follow on from being an un-heard child. I get that now. Which is part of the ‘response’ element for me.

b. they let me ooze the anger.

*Note: anger is not a generally ‘loved’ element of humanity. Sure a few tweets here and there is ok for the generalised public; but full on gutt wrenching screaming at the world, blood curdling rage – not so much. And it tends to get you locked up. Oozing anger however, is slightly more therapeutic and can be filed under ‘creative writing’. Note also: most therapists used to tell you to scream into a pillow. But that shit doesn’t work (well not for me anyway).

c. they let me reflect.

*Note: I can look back on where I’ve been and appreciate the ‘journey’ I’ve taken, for what it is; figure out what works; what doesn’t and make peace with the bits that don’t anymore.

d. they let me get creative.

*Note: this is a tentative – watch this space, moment. I feel like I’m coming to the end of certain ‘responses’, because strangely enough, not as much pisses me off … yes, believe it or not. There are certain forms of creativity I am still developing and I think thats because these aren’t ‘responses’ anymore … they are about creating something new.

Now thats New for Me.

So watch this space.

Once the headache subsides and I can get a handle on whats happening to my insides … its creativity on 😉

me and my ptsd moment = dissected / as only ME can ;)

Had a thought whilst taking a dump this morning … my usual place of inspiration 🙂

It occurred to me, that if there is no ‘cure’ for PTS (D) per se, then what is there? What am I supposed to do? OR rather, what am I feeling the ‘outside’ expectation is? Because thats where the pressure is coming from at present.

I know I have made significant progress personally over the last year and abit; and I know I’m still getting there.

Which made me wonder …

Why? Why progress? What for? So I can enjoy life?

But what else? If I was to say that I am indeed enjoying my life now … that although it is interrupted by some badass memories and rather invasive panic attacks … I am loving being alive 🙂

So with that sorted. The ‘happy clappy’ part anyway … what on earth else could there possibly be to ‘achieve’ … to be cured from???

Integration back into ‘society’? Yes I think thats where most peeps are heading with the ‘cured’ part. They think that unless I am working the 9-5, and am back on the tread mill of ‘life’, then I am not REALLY really making headway.

I see and hear this attitude in nearly every (albeit limited) interaction with well meaning peeps.

“Oh, but your driving yet”

“Oh, but you’ll go back to work ay”

“Oh, but your so qualified; I’m sure theres ‘other’ jobs you could do until your ‘better'”

Oh, oh, oh.

Guess what though?

I don’t WANT to go back to a shit job being told what I should and shouldn’t be doing. I don’t WANT to sit in meetings about how some fucked up family can’t afford food and clothing for their kids because their gambling and drinking come first. I don’t WANT to reintegrate into a society that still thinks I am nothing more than a little brown woman who … no way, could possibly be that educated cos she has such a potty mouth!

I am happy with my photography and art … I’m happy with my blogs and writing … I’m happy! That is fucking huge for me!!! Fucking Huge!

So, I headed to my “about ~ my ptsd moment” page today, just to have a little dissection of what I have achieved … for ME … for my familia.

To remind ME of how fucking awesome I am!

I have ptsd.

At the moment.

Yes I do. I’ve come to the realisation that that is fucking A OK.

I write to get that shit out, to give it ‘a voice’. To get relief and clarity.

Yes, I do … I am doing … and it helps!

My earliest memories are dark. I have had night mares as long as I can remember. I have never slept longer than two to three hours, unaided.

First part, yes … second part … I can sleep nearly 8 hours some nights … and I’ve even done 9, unaided! Thank you very much!!!

I see danger in every situation. Even the good ones.

Yes I do … and I now actually think this is a gift, rather than a curse. As long as I don’t freak out over it … listen to my gutt and do what I need too then I’m sweet.

I look for motive and intent in others long before I can physically see them. I am and have always looked for ‘the angle’ that is being played. It is my understanding that there is always a hidden agenda to another’s actions and the only way to protect myself is to stay one step ahead.

Yes I do. And as I have figured in the last year or so, I’m not usually wrong! It’s whats kept me alive and protected .. maybe I should start listening to it more!!

Apparently this is PTSD. But this is my normal.

Yes it is … so while they may label it as PTSD … it has been my normal long before they gave it a name. I think that makes me unique!


And there it is … Me embracing and reconciling this thing called PTSD … this thing that is Me.


365 reasons to smile ~ 221.

221. So, we did my girls big move yesterday … and the house they’re in, is waaayyyy more than I expected for them … I mean I knew it was going to be big, and they probably wouldn’t know themselves … but … well when i saw it . ..


Their old home – which I must say, has done them proud for the past five years – was a small 2 bedroom place; it was damp and cold. But the new house is about 4x the size of the old one! Each of the bedrooms is bigger than the 2 old bedrooms put together! Its massive! And its just perfect for their growing family.

The best bit, is its further out of town than I realised. Its about 7-8ks off the main route at the foot of the ranges. Its kind of elevated and they have a long view of their old town and about 3 towns over. Its quiet, except for the sound of the sheep and a little brook just down from them. It’s gorgeous!

The inside is warm! No damp. No cold. Its north facing so they get sunshine all day.

When we left them last night, they were all huddled up in one of the lounges, on their mattresses 🙂 Made me laugh – they so used to being all crammed up, they feel and look a little lost in that big house. But they’ll get used to it.

I’m so happy for them. And my beautiful mokos look happy, and that makes me happy! My youngest girl and moko number 4 will be moving in with them in the next few months too, and it just makes my heart warm, to know that all the mokos and their parents (my girls) will be warm and happy and healthy … that they finally have a ‘home’.

What more could a mama slash nanny ask for really.


yesterdays day

My eldest daughter and her little family are on the move! They’ve been looking for a reasonably priced house to rent for a while, for her 5 strong household to occupy. Not such an easy thing to do anymore. House prices (to rent and buy) have skyrocketed as greedy weasels try to prize more and more money out of the plebs. Needless to say, a house to accommodate 5 peeps has taken more than a few phone calls! But they’ve finally found an abode and they’re set to move on Monday.

They’re moving out-of-town and will be about 20 minutes closer to me, YAH! But it’s not all about me obviously … so, the new house they’re going to rent has 5 bedrooms and 2 living spaces. Its heated nicely, has a pool and is in the country side with an awesome view of the ranges. They honestly won’t know themselves with all that space! My little man will get to play his drums as much as he likes and as loud as he likes … miss just turned 7 will get to spring around like tigger, practicing her gymnastics … and little miss 3 can ride her bike where ever she likes!

Bonus is my other girl and her little madam will move in with them in a few months too! She’s not so enthusiastic about the countryside, but she’s embracing the fact that she’ll be able to save some money and get herself established financially.

I’m very proud of both my poppets.

So, yesterday we went to help my girl clean and get ready for their move. And as I got myself ready in the morning I felt as nervous as fuck and realised I hadn’t actually been anywhere for a few weeks. But like the old ‘riding a bike’ analogy, I braced myself, breathed, and got in the car … the nerves stayed with me for quite a while but once I’d got my music sorted, I sang my ass off and felt a whole lot better! And before I knew it we were at our desired destination! Not too bad I thought!

Most of the cleaning ended up being painting … which I don’t mind … it was a long day … but a good day. Looking forward to their move and never ever having to go back to the city for anything ever ever again!!! Just saying 😉

that corner

that corner


a beautiful

place to turn at.

not a crossroad,

or a weigh station.

a corner.


round that corner

is a sense

of freedom,

of self,

of ownership,

of peace.

it’s also a sense

of immense



i be

looking up




defence classes,

me thinks.