Blast From The Past – Raise Good Men…

Funny how it all comes back up to the surface just because having a conversation with a friend of mine. Because obviously things like this happen. They happen regularly. Which is in itself way too often. And it triggers me just the way it triggered me back then. Not as much for me. Because frankly: Nothing has happened to me and I can simply shake it off. But because of my daughter and what she may but hopefully won’t experience.

And more than ever I know one thing: It’s also my responsibility to make sure it stops happening. I can do my part. By speaking out. Which I did eventually in the below mentioned case. I had a chat with certain people about this man and we did approach it. But also by raising my son right. By making sure he will treat women right. By making sure he understands that this is simply a no go and why. Because I feel that once you understand why, you also understand not to do it. For those of you who have no clue what I’m talking about here is the story as a Blast From The Past…

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Raise Good Men…

Do I even know where to start? No, I guess I don’t. One of the moms today said to me that she has a stiff neck. She’s feeling the pressure of her life on her shoulders. The stress of her job, dealing with the kids, taking them to activities and being ready for the birthday party of her partner, a man who finally makes her happy after her ex has basically wrecked her trust in relationships.

I saw my friend today. My friend who is fighting for her life while knowing she can’t win. I saw her smile and laugh and have small talk. I saw her leave because she was too exhausted to stay and watch the girls till the end of their game.

Justin Timberlake and Chris Stapleton are singing “Say something” and something about “can’t help myself”, “caught in the middle” and “looking for something I can’t have”, while I read the message of a new found friend of mine who is telling me about the heartache the separation of her parents cause to her. While we don’t share as much just yet, I can feel a frustration with her mother and the sadness she feels for her dad.

And I? I don’t even know where to start. I’m shaken. I haven’t felt like this for a very long time. Can I look my kids in the eyes? What can I tell them?

I don’t know. One in five in Australia. Me too. Words that sound so innocent if you split them up in single words. Together they do not paint a nice picture.

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