Author: Angel Beldam

I love words and putting them together, to educate or elucidate, like this blog, or to weave a story in my fictional pieces. It is my passion. One I have finally fully embraced very late in my life.

But I have a love/hate relationship with poetry.

I love how liberating and releasing it feels to write a poem because it requires me to truly know how I’m feeling. I hate how vulnerable it makes me feel because it requires me to truly know how I’m feeling.

I love reading other people’s poetry, simple, complex, archaic, or modern, it doesn’t matter. I especially love it when I come across one that perfectly articulates how I’m feeling at the moment I encounter it.

Poetry is prose distilled down to its most essential core.

Poetry is magic.

But writing poetry truly requires vulnerability, not just when writing it but releasing it out to the world. I hate how exposed it makes me feel. The thought of sharing what I composed with others is truly scary. It is not always easy sharing my fiction or my blogs, but my poems are so intensely personal.

I don’t usually write poetry except when feeling extreme emotions. Sharing a poem allows an insight into my very being and that requires more bravery than I usually have.

So when I post a poem that I wrote, please be kind because I will have just shared my rage, grief, or joy with you in a way I could never express in a normal conversation. I will have let you see a piece of my soul.

Be well my friends.

“Weight loss improves body satisfaction like a haircut improves a breakup.” https://www.instagram.com/bodyimagewithbri/

I saw this on my Instagram the other day and it really resonated with me. As someone who has been through several breakups in the past year, big and small, I do recognize that impulse to make external changes that I know won ‘t really help how I feel.

Getting a fresh new look can lift your spirits and give you a quick boost, but the grief, betrayal, or even plain disappointment doesn’t just go away because you cut your hair. It can, however, signal your brain and your heart that now is the time to start looking forward not back, to move on.

As a fat woman who has been learning how to accept that her worth is not tied to how big or little her body is, a breakup can trigger more than just a desire to get a new haircut.

It can put me back into a place of shame and insanity. If I lose weight and become skinny and gorgeous, the ex who let me go will want me back or at least regret letting me go. The revenge diet instead of the revenge haircut.

This is so toxic, and I hate how it still creeps into my thoughts. I am not less worthy because I take up more physical space than the patriarchy feels comfortable with.

And also would I really want to get back together with someone who wants me back because I am now thin or thinner? That’s a hard no.

Any changes to how I look or who I am must be for me, not someone else and not because I’m trying to fit into some arbitrary standard but because it is what’s best for me.

Don’t let someone else make you lose yourself. Be well my friends.

I’ve recently joined a few Facebook groups and on one of them a member started a DM game. You post a selfie of yourself and others can respond with a thumbs up or a heart. If you get a thumb then they like your picture, but they aren’t interested in contact. If you get a heart that means they are open to you sending a direct message.

I thought, what the heck, why not? So I posted a selfie and gave thumbs and hearts out depending on the photo. It felt a bit shallow, picking women solely based on their picture but as I’ve been learning what physical characteristic l find appealing, I thought, what could it hurt? Besides it was more about a great smile or a quirkiness that came through.

Only one of the hearts I placed sent me a message, but I did receive four hearts, which made my little heart feel really good.

I sent messages to each of them. None of the women live near me, they all live in other states, but it’s been nice getting to know them. I’m a firm believer in we can never have enough friends and I think one of them could actually turn into something more.

When I first started dating I used an over 50 dating app and I rejected any requests from anyone who didn’t live here. I was not interested in a long-distance relationship (LDR for those in the know).

I’m still not sure it is a good idea. Relationships are a lot of work without throwing an airplane ride in between you both. One of my love languages is touch and not being able to reinforce my feelings by holding hands, a caressed cheek, or a kiss would be really difficult.

But maybe my one is out there and if I limit my pool I might never find her. I worry that a LDR is just setting myself up for heartbreak, but that’s the case for any relationship regardless so I really have nothing to lose. Right?

And the distance will force me to slow down and truly get to know the person before a physical relationship begins to make it more complicated. Besides, as a writer, I like the idea of writing long love letters back and forth. There is something very romantic about that.

Stay tuned and be well my friends.

This is not the blog I had planned for today, but I need to share.

Dictionary. com defines gaslighting as manipulating someone by psychological means into questioning their own sanity.

My friends l am now a member of the club. I was recently gaslit. How I managed to escape it until now I have no idea but there you go. Although maybe I have been in the past and it was done so expertly that I still don’t recognize it or I was just clueless and vulnerable. Who knows? But I am not who I was, and I have definitely just been gas ht.

What an awful feeling. To be attacked like that. And that’s what it was. That manipulation was an assault on my being.

I was made to feel like it was all my fault and that when I got angry at the realization of what was happening suddenly I’m the asshole. I’m the one who is angry person and they saw it from the beginning. What?

I have worked so hard to not be an angry person, to live in the moment, and find joy where I can.  I can’t believe how easily I was manipulated into believing that I was at fault.

Thankfully I reached out to friends and they reassured me that I am not an “angry person “and that if I was angry, I had justification. I’m sad that I needed that reassurance but extremely grateful for it.

I have a therapy session coming up soon and I know exactly what we will be discussing. I don’t want that to ever happen again.

Be careful out there my friends.

So I’ve recently discovered Tik Tok. I’ve been resistant to Tik Tok (and Twitter & IG) but people on FB keep sharing or referring to Tik Tok and one day a friend actually said once you see some of the posters, you will never be the same. It’ll change your life.

She was right. I was up way too late the first day I created an account and found lesbian Tik Tok.

So apparently I have a type and I’m rethinking my self-imposed label as a demi-sexual. I found the HBG posts and oh my! I have no emotional connection to this person, and they are way too young for me, but holy moly their posts stir something primal in me.

That androgynous, masc, butch look and attitude is most definitely my thing. It’s not like I wouldn’t date someone who was more femme, but I’ll need to explore this butch/femme thing some more. I think I find myself wanting to be more like the femmes I see instead of dating them. Ultimately though it doesn’t really matter where they fall on the butch/femme spectrum, if they want me as much as I want them then that’s what’s important.

Also, I found a woman who has started a FB community called Club Lilles, Late in Life Les(bians). It’s been great and validating connecting with other women who have similar stories to my own.

And the lesbians that just fold laundry, um wow! Who knew folding laundry could be so sexy. Shout out to another friend who clued me in to this phenomenon.

The funniest thing I’ve encountered so far is that I have 3 followers already and I have no intention of ever posting any content. Of course, I never had any intention of ever downloading Tik Tok, so you never know.

I could easily become addicted to watching these videos. I’ll have to make sure to set some limits or I’ll never get to the must do things in my life, like sleep and writing this blog.

Be well my friends.

I went to a costume party last night at a friend’s house. I haven’t been to a costume party in years and not just because of Covid. There are many reasons I could give but mostly it’s about not being able to find costumes for my body that I felt comfortable wearing. Honestly if this had been a big bash thrown by a group I probably would have bailed, but I told my friend I would come.

The original costume I had planned was going to be part of a couple’s costume but since that was no longer going to be a thing I scrambled to find something. With the help of other friends the costume I wore was comfortable, fun and just a hint sexy. I felt great in it.

At the party there was yummy food, great music, lots of laughter and amazing women in great costumes. They were clever, sexy, fun and so were the costumes.  

I didn’t know anyone except the host couple, but I had an opportunity to speak with or observe most of those there. I find it very interesting that many of the women were wearing costumes that reflected the person they were showing to the others. I’d be interested to know if the costumes were an extension of who they usually were or if the costume allowed them to show parts that did not normally come out.

Mostly there were couples, but it didn’t feel awkward, well no more awkward than I normally feel in social gatherings where I don’t know anybody. I wasn’t the oldest one there either so bonus points for that.

And this is very exciting, I met a budding novelist who wanted to read my blog. If you’re reading this now-hi! I think I may have started some new friendships and that was the best part of the night.

Be well my friends.

I slept around a bit in high school mostly with adult men way too old for me, but I only had two serious relationships and I married and had a child with one of them. My son’s father and I were married for 21 years before he made a cliche out of me and cheated. All these years and a ton of work and that still pisses me off sometimes.

It then took eight years to get myself in a place where I actually liked myself and was alright with being on my own. I felt I had become a person who could be part of a healthy couple.

After an awful first foray into dating women. I found her. The woman of my dreams. I fell so hard and we were together for two years. I thought she was the one. Sadly that turned out not to be the case and we broke up earlier this year when she ‘let me go’ to find someone who was more compatible with my sexual needs and because she had once again lost herself to someone else’s needs and wants.  

She broke my heart. It devasted me in ways the divorce didn’t or couldn’t because I had finally truly fallen in love, mind, body, and soul. I’m still not convinced she wasn’t my one, but since she believes I wasn’t hers, I have no choice, but to move on.

The next woman I dated deserved better, but as soon as I realized she was not ever going to be my person I tried to be gentle, and I’ll always regret hurting her.

I reflected carefully before I started dating again. Was it too soon? I had done so much work to be a better person, to learn to live in the present and feel my feelings; that good communication is vital. So I jumped in again, ever hopeful.

I met a woman through a friend of a friend. We had so many things in common, and I was starting to fall again, but she too ‘let me go’. She wasn’t comfortable moving into a serious relationship, and she couldn’t give me what I needed sexually either. One of the things this latest ex pointed out while we were dating is that I talk a lot about my exes. So I guess I really do have more work to do.

I’m not giving up hope that my person is out there, but I can’t help thinking something is wrong with me in that both these women brought up my being too much sexually. My sex life was practically non-existent with my ex-husband, and I thought it was me. It only took that very first time with a woman to show me what I’d been missing. It was life changing. A gift from the heavens to feel that good. Who wouldn’t want to feel that way, to make up for all those years of missing out, especially as I’m in menopause and I have no idea how long my libido is going to last? Besides isn’t a healthy sex life good for a healthy relationship?

I work full-time, write poetry and fiction part-time, and hang out with my friends, so it’s not like I’m wanting to be in the sack 24/7. I am worthy of being loved in the way I know I am capable of loving someone. I’ll stay open and hopeful that someday I’ll meet her.

Be well my friends.

Just found out I have severe sleep apnea. I’m not actually surprised, and I have the latest ex to thank for giving me the nudge I needed to go to the doctor. I’ve known there was an issue for a while.

But now there’s no avoiding it, I get to wear a CPAP. Lucky me. Won’t that be sexy for my next sleep over? Assuming there ever will be another opportunity for a sleepover.

Told my bestie and she reminded me that being alive and healthy is sexy. I said “Yeah, yeah. I’m wallowing here.”

It’s the first snow of the season so it’s cold and dreary outside and there’s lots of dread inside. Not sure what I’m dreading more, getting used to sleeping with the device or the lifetime of having to clean the stupid thing every day. I don’t even clean myself every day.

Ok, that sounds gross. But now that I work from home and don’t have to leave the house every day, I may shower every other day, and when I’m suffering with a bout of depression, even that is a struggle.

Although now that I think of it, if I’m actually getting some good sleep every night maybe I’ll actually have the energy to do those daily things that somehow feel so hard some days. And since I am trying to be a healthier and better me, I should embrace this opportunity to not feel so tired all time.

I’m not a big fan of the word should. I’ve “should-ed” on myself for years, living life with regrets and shame. But I think I will embrace this, knowing that it will help me live longer, sleep better, and be healthier.

But not just yet. For a bit I’m going to wallow in the ugh of it. . . (And just in case anyone reading this is thinking it-thin people have sleep apnea too, so don’t go there. I’m not in the mood for you.)

It’s going to take weeks maybe even months to get my CPAP due to supply chain shortages, so I’ll have plenty of time to wallow.

If you snore, or wake up with headaches, go get checked out. Be well my friends.

I just got back from Hawaii in September but I’m ready to venture out again. I’ve got itchy feet.

I saw an advertisement for low fares on Amtrak. I love train travel and I haven’t been on one since before the pandemic. I would love another long weekend in Glenwood Springs. My favorite writer’s weekends have been there as I was able to start writing on the train. Maybe I could stay on the train all the way to San Francisco, then head south along the coast. Or go in the other direction to Chicago, then transfer to New Orleans. Book a sleeper car and just ride the rails.

Right now there’s a group of women that just finished up a week of amazing creativity and fun in Tuscany on a lifestyle retreat. I had the pleasure of being one of them back in 2019. The woman who runs them as Prone to Wander Retreats sent me notification this year of both the Tuscany trip and a new one to Marrakesh. I’ve been to Morocco but never made it out of Tangiers and would love to get a chance to visit Marrakesh. The pictures posted by the photographer and participants were amazing! Well, maybe next year.

I have so many places on my bucket list that I want to visit.  Some I could do solo but others it’s just safer not to be alone. I actually don’t mind traveling alone. I’ve done it often enough for work; but I don’t get to go to exotic and breathtaking places for work. I also go to writer’s retreats alone, and I prefer it that way. Being with someone requires time away from the writing.

However, I want to explore new places with someone who has the same appreciation for them as I do. Someone who will get up when its dark because the locals said watch the sunrise on that beach or who will try an unfamiliar food because it smells heavenly. Besides having to drag all your stuff with you every time you need to go to the bathroom sucks.

Maybe instead of a girlfriend I need to find a travel buddy. Someone with some flexibility in the times they can travel and the means to afford one big trip or several smaller ones each year. And if in our travels together, something more than a friendship develops, that would be alright wouldn’t it? That’s not too much to ask is it?

I went to a trivia game solo last night. The host is a friend, and I recognized the faces of other regulars, but none of my teammates were there. I almost didn’t go, but I needed to be around people and I’m glad I went. I really missed the women who are normally there with me, but because they weren’t there, I had time to write.

I have a hard time writing in the evenings, partly because I’m up so early for work that I’m tired by then and partly because my mother is always home in the evenings, and she is always moving and making noise. However, I have no problems writing in a noisy bar at night.

When an individual is making noise when all else is silent, you can hear everything, but in a crowded bar, the cacophony works like white noise, and it energizes me. Those who know me might find this odd, since I’m such an introvert, but it’s true. Plus, I get a chance to people watch, which as any writer can tell you is essential to creating believable characters.

Despite the bar being so far from my house, it has begun to feel like my local. I’ve been here often enough that the bar manager greeted me with a club soda with lime when I walked in the bar and asked if I was having whiskey and mac n cheese this week. I felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the Glenlivet.

He also said, “I haven’t seen you guys for a couple of weeks” and when I checked out he said, “tell the others I miss them”. Now I’m not naïve enough to think he actually missed me or us as much as he misses the money we spend, but it was still nice to hear. Am I being cynical? Probably.

I ended up being a ‘team’ by myself because five minutes before the game was to start only two teams had signed up and the host needs three. Four more teams signed up at the last minute so I could have dropped out but decided to see how I would do. I was in third place going into the final question, but alas I didn’t fare well on the final round and came in fourth. Not bad for someone playing solo against teams.

I missed my teammates though. Not just because we almost always win when we’re together, but because there’s so much laughter and joy when I’m with them. Hopefully next week we’ll be able to field a team.

Be well my friends.