Why Cheaters Never Win


I’ve been through a few relationships in my short 27 years on this earth. Through those relationships I’ve learned personality traits in a mate I like and dislike and have learned to be a good partner and I’ve also learned what is not okay in a partner. 

The truth is when you enter into a relationship with another human you make a promise to be there for them. You are no longer a feather blowing in whichever direction the wind blows you, now you are part of a pair of wings. 

The reality of the world now is that divorce is pretty normal, cheating is pretty normal and monogamy isn’t the main stream news. The problem is now, men and women are so self centered and obsessed with their perfect mate that they don’t see that they are most of the problem. 

So many women say “I just can’t find a nice guy”. Here’s your reality check, you don’t want one and it takes one to know one… So chances are if you are saying you can’t find a nice guy, maybe you can’t, or maybe you are too busy trying to meet someone that checks all the superficial charectoristics off your list and “nice” isn’t actually a  real priority. 

I won’t say that I didn’t go through a similar process when I was in college. I had a total jerk off boyfriend who lived in Boston. The only reason it lasted as long as it did was because he was nice once every 10 encounters and I liked his family. For those of you who feel like this kind of behavior is normal and you learn to live with it, in retrospect I was severely unhappy. I lived with constant insults, back handed compliments and a lot of judgements on my friends and family. Those are the type of men that deserve a punch in the head. I wouldn’t condone cheating on them but I can see why someone in that position would have cheated, spite, insecurities and not getting the emotional needs met.

However, if I were to guess judging by the fact that he was married within a year of our final break up, his relationship was not just with me.  He probably knew he could get away with it and I would never know. I would like to say it pains me to know that he was probably cheating for a very long time but honestly it’s for the best that it didn’t work out and now I’m in the perfect loving relationship.

Now, the other side of the coin is when the woman cheats. She cheats for a much different reason than a man cheats and I truly believe that despite the fact that humans are prone to make mistakes, women are worse. I think women cheat on men in a much more calculated and dispicable manner. They want to get their needs met, maybe physically but mostly emotionally. A woman who cheats on her man cheats because he’s doing something that isn’t good enough. Some women don’t ever admit that they aren’t happy they believe that they are, they convince themselves but then if they were then they wouldn’t have a second thought.

I recently experienced a friend go down the road of betrayal not just to her husband but also to the family the friends and the union of the two of them. It didn’t hit me until I was faced with the fact that I knew, and he didn’t that I was stuck in a very ugly situation. Not only did she cheat but she lied. I suppose those go hand in hand. I know this isn’t the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I only question why a person needs a relationship or a marriage if they aren’t getting their needs met. If you aren’t happy with your partner and even have the slightest inclination to cheat… It’s time to go.

I think when men cheat they do it for the physical need and it has nothing to do with emotional needs. When women cheat, they are getting the emotional needs met and maybe the physical. They have to live a lie and eventually the lie becomes easy enough to carry that they can do it again. It’s as if the door was already opened they just walked out and came back in carrying a little more baggage than before but they manage it. 

I often wonder why you would want to feel so heavy all the time knowing how badly you have hurt someone? How can you look at them knowing what you have done? Does it hurt you at all? Do you sit at the edge of your seat knowing that at any moment they can find out? Do you bribe people not to tell? And was it worth it? 

Cheaters don’t win and I’ll tell you why… Because a clear conscious and a transparent life with your partner is easy and happy, and trust is the foundation of that. Without trust and without honesty your relationship means nothing and it won’t last. I hope that if you are on the fence and you are considering an alternative to your current relationship that you assess why and see if you want to go through the heartache that cheating  evokes, or if you need to fix something about yourself first. Either way, cheaters never win. 

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Decor with honor

While I typically make projects based on up-cycling or refreshing old furniture the most recent I did had a little more meaning. The project consisted of 2 wooden planks, savaged from the bed frame which was my father’s. 

It sounds a little morbid when I say it but he loved to sleep. And he died in his sleep. It was a water bed, but the framing was beautiful and the wood was a dark stain probably oak. I wanted to use it to make something he would be proud of. 

I come from a short line of carpenters, my grandfather and for a short time my father.

Last Father’s Day I had planned to make a bench for the entry way of my childhood home which I had intended (at the time) on buying. Luckily I was too out of sorts to complete the project and as a result the wood remained in a pile for later use. 

This year I did it. It was 2 planks of wood and two iron square legs (purchased from etsy so I know someone made them with love). 

It took me 15 minutes to screw in the legs and it came out reminiscent of the pottery barn style bench associated with a farmhouse table, valued at $799. I made this with love and $80 plus shipping. 


This was by far the easiest and most satisfying project thus far. I put the wood together, placed the legs where I wanted them. I screwed I. The screws and flipped it over. 


I’d say IKEA furniture is harder to put together. 

This was the inspiration :


And this was my final project:


O think I nailed it. 

I’m planning to get a wood burner to burn in a memorial statement to him. 

Overall it was fun and I’m glad I finally honored him with a seat and a fabulous statement for my bedroom.


Office hours in heaven for Father’s Day.


So it’s been 2 years in July since my dad passed, unexpectedly. I have to say while I thought I would never feel whole again I feel a little less empty now than I did then.


I have always had a very distinctly different relationship with my father. He wasn’t your average guy. He was the most interesting man I know, mysterious and loving with a very grizzly exterior.

He lived through the 1960’s and worked hard all his life, he went to Woodstock and he loved a good joint. He was kind of a hippie but not the peace and love type. He often criticized the world and the state of the economy by saying “it’s only going to get worse”, he said that from 1999-2014 and pretty much he was right. 

He read the newspaper daily and never carried a cell phone, until my mom forced him to. He was extremely smart but he never let anyone know it, because he was smart enough to know that kind of knowledge came with expectation. He always flew very low on the expectation scale and came through with flying colors because he was quite the charmer. 


He took us out to dinner Sunday nights or a movie on a Sunday because he worked Monday- Saturday at his self employed company East Coast Van. I later found out that he owned part of this franchise and eventually took ownership of the entire company. They pimped out vans like they did back in the 60s. He was a brilliant business man. He loved money. Which may have contributed to his high stress life.

He was frugal and in light of this he prevailed through the crash of the stock market in the 80s, and then through the recession only to finally hit 62 and collect social security which was a welcomed relief to the years of uncertainty. 

He managed to support his mentally ill wife,(and me) paying for private insurance from the time they were married, to 2001 when my mom went back to work which was about 15 years. He paid for insurance for his drunken-addicted brother, his whole family and provided him vehicles and a job for more than 30 years.

 He took care of me, he didn’t want to pay for things, but he did, he drove me to Greek school every Saturday and always got me great birthday cards. He was a sentimentalist but no one knows that.


Sunday’s though we’re our day. He would wake up late and watch tv. I would get home from church with my mother in my Sunday dress and go straight to whatever outdoor project he was doing. I would help him rake leaves, pick up tools, hold the level and my favorite job…go get sodas. I spent years of Sunday’s following him around the yard, as he did things on his own. He was free from the wrath of my mother in the yard. 


We would work really hard all day, well mostly him while I picked flowers. We went off roading in the back woods to dump brush. We planted all the shrubs in the yard together. We built rock walls, well he did I watched… 


We took breaks together though. We patched the driveway and sealed it every August. He weed wacked the wild flowers and I yelled at him, but in retrospect they were really weeds. Then at the end of a long day in the yard we would go swimming. Just me and dad hangin out.
We would go to the lake when no one else was there cause I think my dad was a bit antisocial. He would bring his towel and wear his sneakers without socks and I would sit in the front seat (cause otherwise, I wasn’t allowed to). 


We would go see fireworks together. He would crack jokes at my expense and he kept me sharp. He didn’t like anyone’s company like he liked mine. We didn’t talk much… We just were together. When he spoke I listened. 


When I moved out of their house after college, he missed me. I’d come over to give him a hand and get bamboozled by my attention seeking mother, but he knew what I was there for.

We had the kind of relationship that was simple. I looked up to him and he was proud of me. He was the best man I’ve known. He could really do anything… And he was silly. He wasn’t perfect but he was my dad and if it were possible I’d be making an apointment in heaven today.


It’s not just people who suffer from mental illness… It’s the rest of us that suffer.


  Some days you are high and some days you are low, but just like in the movie BLOW with Johnny Depp… Life goes on. 

Unfortunately for folks suffering from mental illness their bystanders get the side effects. I’ve lived with an mentally ill mother my whole life. When she was up she was the happiest and most joyful angel and when she was down, the lights are out. 

Being an only child to a bipolar type one, schizo effective, borderline personality disordered parent makes you extremely aware of how people feel. I never bullied anyone, I was always “the nice” one. I always put people before myself. I always cared what people thought of me and I probably always will, because I was trained to care. 

If I wasn’t fully aware of the kind of day she was having I was immediately aware of the kind of day my father was having. He like most men kept all his feeling tightly wound up in an angry eruption that was set to go off at any and everything from the moment he stepped foot in the room to the moment he left. That was his way of dealing with her illness, he got angry. 

When he died, it made a lot of sense why in fact he was so angry. People with mental illness not only live in their own little world but they wrap you up in their problems. They keep you close and involved and if you question their intentions they turn on you like you are no one. All the while you have to keep your cool because YOU aren’t the sick one. 

I tend to think that people who are mentally ill or addicts get a free pass for bad behavior. They don’t have to pay the price for their failings because they are sick. It’s as though their affliction exempts them from being decent. I don’t agree. I tend think they are lucky in a way as well. They never have to face the reality of the world, the responsibility of adulthood or make amends for their sins. As if this weren’t unfair enough, then the people who are in the lives of these people get hurt wth no apologies.

The people who live with someone with mental illness suffer the worst because they truly never know the person they are with. Will they love me tomorrow? Will they keep their promises? Will they hurt themselves? The uncertainty of it all is stressful enough, but then when you think you’ve caught on to their pattern they do something that throws you for a loop and you start to question your own sanity. It’s like dealing with someone with dimensia or a degenerative illness, the perception is skewed or their body fails but you love them despite it all. Sometimes the sick say things without thinking and we get hurt by accident. Make no mistake though, sometimes the mentally ill intend to hurt you, the ones they love the most, but only if you let them. 

It’s not every day that you feel like the black sheep, sometimes they do things to make you feel great, like you made their life worth living. You get on their highs and they’ll drag you through their lows, but life must go on. Staying strong through the nonsense takes a lot of patience and a lot of lessons, but once you become resistant to the bullshit you are free. The best advice someone gave me once was be kind to yourself and don’t engage in their behavior. It works if you stay focused. 


Rain Rain GO AWAY!

What is it about the rain when you have nothing planned that makes you feel cozy? Why does the rain make us feel like we just can’t get out of bed… 

Is it the smell?Is it the sound on the roof or on the window sill? That humming white noise that eases our overburdened minds? Is it the simple fact that we are inside safely surrounded by walls and a roof? Or is it because we know that after the rain all that was grey becomes vibrant and refreshed?

Something about water has always made me feel something… It’s peaceful and yet uncertain. It’s calm and reflective buy also intolerant and destructive, and all the while it is a necessity for human life.

While I look at ice, oceans or streams I know that it won’t be that for long… And so dealing with a bipolar-borderline-personality-disordered mother is like looking at the ocean at 5 pm when the sun is almost set but the whole world is  vibrant and breathtaking. You can see the beauty and she will warm your soul up with color until the sun goes down and the wind picks up and suddenly you are in the dark…. Some days there’s light some days the waning glimmer of hope just isn’t enough… Some days the moonlight is intoxicating you can almost smell daylight and others there is no moon at all. She will make you feel like all is calm on the horizon and suddenly you are in the eye of the storm.

When you think you have fallen into a rutine and you know what days will be brighter than others the water doesn’t seem so special… It’s a subsequent result of how clear you can see it, feel it or need it. It’s as though you forget the beauty or the madness because it’s nature and it’s unpredictable… You will never know if it will rain on your wedding day.

We can’t say with certainty why we like the rain while we are in certain situations and why in others it can ruin everything, but one thing we can be sure of is Bipolar depression and borderline personality disorder never have a schedule… You must always carry your umbrella and possibly a paddle for your own sake..