In the Rain (childhood)

Looking back to my dark childhood, abuse and surviving it all – who I become.

Can you keep a secret? (affairs)

Can you keep a secret? (affairs)


So there I was, engaged to be married by my very first real boyfriend.  This was in the early 90’s so no cellphones.  I finished school, moved into a bachelors flat close to my work (those days I used public transport).  My fiancé, who was working in the Police vehicle theft department at the time told me he did not like to visit me, my flat was too small, he got claustrophobic.  So I spent my time mostly alone.

I made a new friend at the bus stop one morning, her name was Margo, and her boyfriend lived in the army barracks.  She lived with her mom.  We soon became good friends, and having lots of free time on our hands, we caught a bus one late afternoon, went for some drinks, and then went clubbing.  By the time we were ready to leave, the bus services stopped for the night but there was no shortage of eligible bachelors who offered us a ride.  We chose the most innocent looking one, and we sat in the back of his car.

we got back to my flat ( with Margo’s just across the street), thanked our ride, and got out the car.

Little did I know mr. Obsessive Compulsive Freak decided to ordain me with a visit that night.  Since I was not holed up in my little flat, he decided to wait up for… Continue reading

All the love in the world

When you fall  in  love for the first time, you always think it will last forever.

Remember the little love letter bantering back and forth promising forever to the boy who stole a kiss on your cheek in the 3rd grade?love hurts

As you grow older you realize there is a lot more than just one kind of love. There is the feeling of love towards your parents, that goes hand in hand with the craving of acceptance, and the love you feel for your children, the very best and most strongest kind (we were born that way).

Then as you grow into a teenager there is the secret love from a star struck boy, his biggest wish to be noticed by you and whom you let take you on one date or two, but feel no fireworks for – and barely notice his affection for you.

 Sometimes you are the girl secretly head over heels in love with a boy who gives you (and so many others) a date or two, and each one of the long string of girls (including you) think you will be the keeper of his heart… but alas, he forgets you and moves on.

And the sad type – the unrequited love, where you are the unseen one, the “friend”, but wanting so much more in your heart than just friendship from him or her.

By the time you are in your early 20’s you begin looking for the real thing,… Continue reading

My Dad

My Dad.


I have only one memory of him.

I was sitting on his knee, I must have been 2 or 3, and he was feeding me egg mayonnaise.  It was my favourite food as a baby (or so they tell me).

You see, my mother divorced my father when I was a very small girl, and we were forbidden to every mention his name or ask any questions about him.

Later when I went to primary school I got a photograph of him from my gran.   It was a black and white photo of a very handsome young police officer, making a joke with somebody behind him (not in the photo) and smiling with a pretty dimple in his cheek.  Just like the one in mine.

Noun 1.
 – an informal term for a father; probably derived from baby talk
begetterfathermale parent – a male parent (also used as a term of address to your father)

At the end of my 5th year of school, my gran got a call from the family on their side, and for some reason unknown to man, the cousins wanted to meet me and take me on a week long holiday to Durban.

And so they sent me off to strangers.

I met the cousins and they were really nice people.  … Continue reading

The gift of ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder)

Growing up was a struggle for me.

I always seemed to be on another wavelength from everyone else.  I was a silent, shy and introverted little girl, that did not really fit in anywhere, so I always hovered around on the edges.

A dreamer.

girl frustrated with ADDGreat was my surprise when, in grade 6 I was one of the candidates to go to leadership camp for final selection to become a Prefect (or leader).  We had to solve obstacle  courses (almost like the reality show “survivor”) working in teams, and individually.

Well, if you know anything about ADD you would know that one of the biggest telltale signs is called weak impulse control (or as I like to put it no filters).    Other people perceive things like risks, danger and morals as things that will make them stand back and take a second to think about what they are about to do, but an ADD or (ADHD) person sort of just jump in, they don’t really have those filters (they do have them, but don’t give it a second thought).  Of course there are lots of sub – conditions that people with ADD can develop such as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (this has nothing to do with being neat) – it is counting things, having to be in control of things, and having to do things a certain way.

This is both a good and bad thing while still at school.  I came up… Continue reading

Bedtime Stories

Now don’t get me wrong. Writing in my blog is not to get back at anybody, or aimed at anyone. My shrink thought it was a good idea to write about my life, and needy person that I am – I still need feedback, good or bad, and anonymous people on the net is a good start, don’t you think?


Like they say in the movies (and in Despicable me it’s my favorite) : “Any relation to persons living or dead is completely coincidental…” *snicker*

But I digress.

So for me growing up in a single parent home was the norm. Now when I say single parent I actually mean my nanny Willemien.   She was our (me and my brother’s) live in maid for most of our formative years.   She was a wonderfully warm, chubby, loving and giving soul, who grew “maroggo” in the back garden, and cooked it like spinach and gave it to us with pap.   She made “Cool Aid” icicles with the ice cube tray and stuck toothpicks in them to give to us on hot summer afternoons after our round of “rugby” with the neighborhood kids in our back yard.

My mother?  well, she was at work.   Always at work.

And when she was not working, she was out with her many male friends, or at a work party.  One of the last visits we had approximately in 2007  I invited them over for a Sunday lunch.  They… Continue reading

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