An R.I.P Poem

I can’t find a reason why this should’ve happened. What can grow from of all this damage? What did you need that you didn’t quite have yet? How could you do this? Betray your family. The one thing you’re known for is your loyalty, an undying need to protect those you call family.
 I think some days the anger was all you had left. Your soul so stained, tainted, depressed. But there was always a light regardless of your darkness, I just think you were blind to the beauty you harnessed. Your heart was gold, but the world is cruel kid. You found your vices and threw out the blueprints. You never were the type to follow a plan, you’d say “fuck it”, start buckin, and be your own man. But was the price of your life worth that lack of a plan? I know if love could cure an addict, you’d still be out here, goin’ at it and none of us would feel this pain that’s left in the wake of your absence. 

I remember that day by the water, we were so young and free. Completely unaware of how it’d turn out to be. What would we have done if we knew this was next to come? I never knew you’d die, using a needle as a gun. 

R.I.P. Joseph Shultz 

June 2, 1992-June 23, 2016
by Ashley King

© All Rights Reserved 2017

You Are Me, I Am You

I kiss the corners of your piercing blue eyes and my soul explodes as you reward me with your toothless smile. I will never take you for granted.  

I listen to your giggle as you play with your Gigi and I’m encompassed by warmth, enveloped with love, destroyed by happiness. How did I ever know love before you? 

I watch you sleep, closely examining the rise and fall of your chest, listening to your soft snore and dream induced murmurs. I would give a million of my lives to preserve yours. 

I see you see things for the first time. Your eyes light up and focus in, your brow furrows in that curious way, and you examine. You take everything in and I spend a significant amount of time wondering what you learn from it all. I will teach you everything I know, and then I will learn more so I can teach you more. 

I watch you play with your hands. I love those little fingers and palms so much. You twiddle your fingers around each other and examine every inch of their magnificent creation, almost as much as I do. I wonder what things they’ll create, what they’ll touch and feel, where they’ll explore. I’ll show every beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. 

I see your head turn on a swivel when you hear my voice. I feel your heart slow when you’re upset and I wrap you up in my arms. I play with you, imitate you, watch you mimic me, and I have never loved anyone more. I see me in your eyes and I see you in mine. I hear my voice in yours when you yell just because you discovered you can. You are me, and I am you…

I will cherish you every moment. I will remember every second. I will embrace every day I get with you. You are not mine, but you are a piece of me. I do not own you, but I made you. You are my daughter, you are my life, and I will protect you and love you until the end of time. 

by Ashley King

© All Rights Reserved 2017

Pedestals 

I remember when we first met,

we could talk late into the night.

You made me smile so much,

I swore I was high on life.

You made me so fucking happy,

In a way I didn’t think could happen. 

You start to get negative,

when all your past loves caused damage.

But you were incredible,

and I thought “This is it.”,

I thought you were the reason,

for all the years of bullshit.

But time wore it’s way into us,

And you started treating me poorly,

and I found myself forgetting,

all the things that made me happy.

You asked me why I stayed with you,

time and time again.

And I told you that I loved you

and didnt want it to end.

But somewhere in the mix,

I somehow failed to see,

that the man that I once loved,

existed only in my memory.

I was living in the present,

but hoping for the past,

and the more I wanted the old you,

the more it didn’t last.

You would get so fucking nasty,

condescending and mean,

You’d accuse me of shit, belittling,

when only you were guilty.

When the last fight would end,

You would beg for my forgiveness,

I just wanted real change,

But eventually I’d always give it.

I only wanted the simple things,

kindness, love, and respect. 

But the longer we lasted,

the more you seemed to lose it.

Over time I grew angry,

Chock full of resentment,

You said so many things,

no longer repentant.

Your ego grew and grew,

and my loving man withered,

and the sadness that you caused me,

turned into something bitter.

Where once you were humble,

you became cold and cruel,

You used to value my opinion,

then you deemed me the fool. 

You lost your respect in me,

by no fault of my own. 

And once we had our daughter,

She was all that kept us whole. 

In the end, I only wanted you to love me. 

But I guess that was too hard,

from so far above me. 

Pedestals make even the best of us look ugly. 

by Ashley King

© All Rights Reserved 2017 

Controlled No More

I’ve learned recently that narcissists are very concerned with their image, how the world perceives them, and the things attached to them… like their cars, homes, partners… 

I was a narcissist’s partner. I didn’t know he was a narcissist when I chose to be with him but I figured it out in time. Just like I figured out that he viewed me as an extension of him, a representation of him, something that was a part of him; but never just as my own unique, autonomous spirit. 

I remember he immediately wanted me to get a job when we got together so we could get a place. It seemed totally normal, albeit fast, at the time. I started looking for waitressing jobs because it was easy, fast money. He was fine with any job but he started pushing me to try to find “better”, like an office job. I got two waitressing jobs in the next few months but eventually ended up in an office job. I was really good at it, so it worked out. Nothing wrong there, right?

He always hated my car. It was a 2004 Mazda Protege. I remember him constantly talking shit on it. When it finally gave out he gave me his old car and leased a new one for himself. This coincidentally happened right as I was about to leave him because we were fighting constantly. I didn’t stay with him because of the car; I had chosen to stay before he ever told me his idea. But I couldn’t help but wonder if he was giving it to me 1. So his girl wasn’t seen driving a “piece of shit” and 2. So I would feel like I had to stay with him because he gave me a car. Immediately after that I got pregnant though, and everything was great for awhile. No harm, no foul… right?

Next was my credit score. He did all these things because he was so concerned about me building better credit. I’d been on my own for a lot of years and had been fucked over a few times so I didn’t have the best score. He added to me to his credit card, only after telling me I couldn’t use it unless I was absolutely fucked though (not that I ever would’ve). Then the clutch went on my car (his old one) and instead of fixing it he decided that I needed to lease one so it could go towards my credit score and so I’d a nice four door for when the baby came. That’s a good thing too, right? 

Then he set up my car payment and car insurance through apps on his phone. I was putting up the money for everything but he was the one actually making the payment. It saved me the trouble, but it bothered me. All of our bills were already in his name and I just gave him the money every month. I felt like a fucking tenant. But he really wanted to “take care of it for us”, so I let him. But the car and insurance payments bothered me. I have always been very independent. I’ve always taken care of all of my own responsibilities. I told him this and he asked me to “please let him do this for me” and for me to “think of him as my lawyer who’s just looking out for my best interests.” So I let it go. Takes the stress off of me, right?

Then I got laid off and went on unemployment. You have to refile your claim biweekly when you’re on unemployment. He said he would do that for me too. I pointed out that that was ridiculous. This isn’t a car that he’s a co-signer on, it’s something that’s solely on me. But he said he would feel better if he just did it and that then I “wouldn’t have to worry about it and could just take care of the baby“. We had an argument over it and he ended up being the one to file it. But hey, I couldn’t possibly ever forget to do it then, right?

Then we broke up. And he threw every single thing that he ever fought to do for me in my face. And in retrospect, he always did. He always talked about how much he “did for our family”. All the things he achieved for us. And he did do a lot for our family. That’s an admirable thing. I will always be grateful to him for helping me better my credit score, get a reliable car, and making me more conscious of how I spend my money. Those are good things. But he wanted constant gratitude and validation for it. And any time we fought he acted as if it was him paying all of our bills himself and providing this life for us. He was making the payments but I was giving him 75% of my income towards them. I pulled my weight until I gave birth to our daughter and then she became my full time job. Then even when I was the only one caring for her 99% of the time he still felt the need to minimize it and act as if I wasn’t doing anything to “help him”. He would “suggest” his way of doing things (what had worked for his first daughter) weeks after I’d found the perfect way for our daughter, and when I didn’t take one suggestion or another because I’d already found my own way he’d accuse me of “acting like I knew everything” and “being close minded”. There were suggestions I did take when I needed them thou0h and it was like he needed me to constantly praise him for doing another thing for me or for us. I told him how proud of him I was all the time. I thanked him constantly for doing the things for me that I had told him I was more than capable of doing myself. But no, he had to do it; he just also had to receive constant admiration for it too. Somewhere in all of this I realized that it was all about control. Control of his responsibilities, my responsibilities, our life, me. 

I wonder if he ever saw me as the person I am or if I was always just a thing to be had. Something to check off of his five year plan. Girlfriend, apartment, nicer car, mortgage, house. Check, check, check. I loved him for who he was when his narcissism wasn’t running his life, our life. But he lost to his ego and I lost him. Then I walked away, because I had to. I am not a thing to be controlled or owned. I am a strong, resilient woman; made of fire and iron, compassion and love, empathy and scars, past and present, venom and fangs. I am so many fucking things and I just couldn’t fit into the box he wanted to keep me in. I couldn’t love someone who didn’t seem to love me for who I truly was. I couldn’t love someone who couldn’t truly see me. So I walked. And it hurt, it still does. I see him in my daughter’s face everyday and I’m reminded of all the good times. But the man I fell in love with is not the man he is anymore. And I didn’t sign up to spend my life with his body; I signed up to be with his spirit. And his spirit is being suffocated by his narcissism and ego. 


The second you control something you love is the second you destroy it. 

by Ashley King

© All Rights Reserved 2017

It’s A Shame

I always admired your ability to set your mind to something and actually attain it. I’ve never seen someone turn such a low salary into so much. Self control. When it came to money, budgeting, working a job you hated, you were a master. You have this unbelievable ability to say “no” to yourself, especially for an ex-junkie. And I truly admired that, mostly because I’ve never been very good at it. 

You’d get this tunnel vision for what you wanted. Me, then the apartment, the promotion, the Army. Next came the new job, the mortgage, the house. One thing after the next; you set your mind to these things and you got them all. But your superpower had a catch. Among your many other character defects, you were never able to focus on more than one thing at a time. Remember, “tunnel vision”. 

And really, it’s a shame. Because now you have your nice, new job. You’re on your way to being a soldier. You close on your beautiful home tomorrow. You have a pink room for both your daughters, one of them being ours… But in attaining all of these things, you forgot about us. And so you will move to your new house alone. You will learn just how deafening silence can be. You will experience loneliness in all of its unique agony. And really, it’s a shame. Because I would have given you forever. Had you only been kind and respectful. Had you paid us just a little bit more attention. Had you just heard me everytime you asked me what I wanted and my answer was “emotional support”. Had you only noticed that the woman sitting next to you was slowly disappearing, her spirit decaying living a life of cohabitation. Partners aren’t supposed to just coexist; they’re supposed to live life together. And in trying to build that life, you forgot about the people you were doing it for. 

My heart breaks for you. I never would’ve wished this on you. Ever. My heart breaks for me. I never wanted this. I wanted our family. I wanted our life. I wanted the man I fell in love with. But you lost him somewhere. And when you lost him, you lost me. My heart breaks for our daughter; because she deserves so much better than us; and she’s not even getting “us”. I will always give her everything I have to give. But I wanted us to do that, together. 

Really, it’s a shame. 

And forever is a lie. 

by Ashley King

© All Rights Reserved 2017

The Soulmate Pt. 1

I remember the first day I saw you. You walked down the hallway in school and the second I laid eyes you everything stopped for a moment. You stuck out. I remember thinking, “I’m supposed to get to know him. He’s supposed to be in my life.” But I was self-conscious back then; and so you kept walking, without me ever saying a word. I remembered you though. You’d cross my mind from time to time and I’d wonder why I couldn’t get you out of my mind. Two or three months passed by and I was sitting at lunch one day when you walked up and started talking to my friends. Then, as if you’d just noticed I was there, you looked at me and asked “Who the fuck are you?” To which I so intelligently replied, “NO, who the fuck are you?”

Genius, right?

But that was it;  we immediately hit it off and you became my best friend. You were like my mirror image in a man. We loved all the same things, agreed on so many important issues; you didn’t judge my crazy family and I didn’t make fun of your completely normal one. You meant so much to me. You were friends with my then fiancée and your girl friend and I were best friends. There was never an awkward moment with you. I remember sleeping in the same bed as you during a time in my life where the only man I could sleep next to was my fiancée; and I had no issues. I didn’t stay awake all night waiting for you to make a move on me, I didn’t jump awake because of a nightmare brought on by sleeping in an unfamiliar place, I was completely comfortable with you. I trusted you; and that was something I rarely experienced.

As it turned out, the fiancée cheated on me; and all of my friends knew and never told me. You were the only one who didn’t know but when you learned of it, a year after the fact, the first thing you did was drive to my house and pick me up. You showed me the respect of telling me the truth and not getting mad when I punched holes through your bedroom wall. I loved you for that. And then you drove me to beat the shit out of the girl, like any best friend would.

A few months went by and the time came for me to move up north with my birth mom. I obviously couldn’t live with the now ex-fiancée anymore and I had nowhere else to go with the money I made from my shitty waitressing job; so I moved. You were the only friend from our area who took the hour drive to visit me. I’ll never forget when on one of those visits we went back down to our area and ate at our favorite diner with a bunch of old friends. You and I went outside to smoke a cigarette and on the way back in we sat down on a bench in the waiting area of the restaurant. I turned to say something to you and you kissed me…

And the entire fucking planet stopped spinning.

In that moment everything froze. My heart leapt into my chest and even though I had no idea what was going on I was absolutely sure that I had never experienced a kiss even close to this. It was like you reached in and wrapped your arms around the very core of me. Everything had fallen into slow motion and there was nothing in the world but you and me and the feeling of your lips on mine. Slowly we pulled away from each other and the look in your eyes could be described as nothing other than pure fire. One word left both of our moths at the exact same time, “Wow”.

We went back into the diner and pretended like it never happened.

In hindsight, had we pursued anything at that time in our lives we would have absolutely eaten each other alive. I was still damaged from my first love, you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants after having your heart broken by your first love. It would have been absolute mutually assured destruction. A fact we agreed on 4 years later when we finally caught up to each other again. After the diner incident we moved on with our lives. I built a life in Allentown and you joined the Army and married a junkie (not that you knew it at the time). After getting home from deployment you learned that your wife had slept with all of your friends and ended up in jail for possession of heroin, so you left her. Awhile later I was down in your area doing tattoos and you saw so on Facebook. You initiated contact and it turned out that I needed somewhere safe to stay while I did work on a bunch of people. So you offered and I accepted.

And it was like we had never lost contact. You were still the same man I had always known; one who could make me laugh until I cried and who I felt truly at ease with. I could always be exactly who I was with you and you loved it. You were incredible. But something was different…

I didn’t just see my childhood best friend anymore. You had grown into a very attractive man; one who reminded me of a never spoken about kiss many years earlier. You were sitting on the lounge section of the couch a couple feet from me and we were talking like we’d never missed a beat. All of the sudden the conversation just stopped and I asked you why you were sitting so far away. You moved right next to me, put your arm around me and leaned in to kiss me…

I remember wondering if the years had turned our first kiss into this unrealistic, unattainable fantasy. Could it really be as amazing, as earth shattering as I remmebered it? Had time blown that one time connection way out of proportion?

Turns out, it had not. The second your lips touched mine everything stopped all over again. Every moment between us was fluid, intuitive, in sync… You seemed to know exactly where I was going to go, what I wanted, how I wanted it. Everything just made sense.

You. Made. Sense, and I couldn’t imagine not being with you..

I didn’t go back home for two months, even after I finished the tattoos I was initially in town to do. When I did finally drive my crappy Hyundai Tiburon back to Allentown it was with you behind me, in a Uhaul full of your belongings…

To be continued…

by Ashley King

© All Rights Reserved 2017

Fuck The Rules

Since having my daughter I have discovered that there are more rules about how to raise your children than I ever thought possible. How to and to not feed them, when and what to feed them, how to “train” them to sleep, how to burp them, when to start the “cry it out” method (that’s if you’re not one of the “momsters” who think this is akin to child abuse). Everything in the world has been regulated, researched, and written within an inch of its life. It’s fucking ridiculous! So… my idea… is to fuck the rules..

Here is a non-comprehensive list of everything I do wrong as a mom; because, fuck the rules.  I mentioned “momsters” above; these are the women who are convinced they know everything about parenting, and have no problem telling you everything you’re doing wrong. They’re the people who deprive their children of syrup on their pancakes because “it’s messy”, the ones who get mad at kids for moving too much or making too much noise or you know, being kids. They are the all-seeing, all-knowing, helicopters moms of the blogosphere and world. They lie in wait, anticipating showering you with shame because you dared to be different or..*dun, dun, dun* an actual parent. Well momsters, this post is for you: take a Valium and a deep breath. I’m about to shit all over your world…

1. NEVER PROP THE BOTTLE

Lady, I can prop a bottle like a motherfuckin’ boss. Wanna know why? Because mama needs two hands and Bebe eats every 3 hours like she’s starving to death. I can hear the momsters now: “But you’ll drown your baby! She’ll die you monster!” Honey, let me tell you, if you’re child isn’t capable of turning her head to the side or spitting out a nipple with the same defiance she spits out her binkie, then that is Darwinism at work. I’m sure somewhere out there there’s some heartbreaking story about a mom who drowned her baby with a bottle but let’s be honest, it would be one of very few (and she probably “propped” with duct tape). I make sure to prop Bebe’s bottle with something soft, like a blanket, so if she turns her head even the slightest bit or tries to spit it out, it comes right out. The worst thing that happens is her shirt gets wet; and guess what? You can wash those. And I get to actually drink cup of coffee while it’s hot (shocker right?!).

2. NEVER GIVE BABY A BLANKET

Seriously? What is this, Auschwitz? I understand that your child can suffocate in a pile of blankets but it is possible to keep your child warm without that happening. Currently, Bebe sleeps in a rock and play because it’s still relatively flat but it’s angled enough to help her with her reflux and I’ve found a way to let her sleep with a blanket where it doesn’t end up piled on top of her perfect little face (sorry, mini mom gush). Before I put her in the rock and play I lay a small blanket down in the basket with a little bit hanging off the bottom edge. Then I place her in and fold the bit of blanket at the bottom up over her little body. It comes up to her nipples, keeps her warm, and doesn’t suffocate her. And guess what? Warm babies sleep longer bitches! Everybody wins!

3. CLEAN THE PACIFIER WITH…

The sheer amount of things sold for cleaning pacifiers is appalling. Pacifier spray, pacifier soap, pacifier wipes. Seriously? For generation upon generation my family has cleaned their pacifiers with two things: water and mouths. Where my germaphobes at? Are you dying yet? I bet you are you little hand sanitizer toting mother fucker, you. I watched my mom do it so many times… the binkie drops, she picks it up, pops it in her mouth, and then pops it in the baby’s. And you know what? Nothing bad has ever happened. Hell, probably builds up the immune system. Now don’t get me wrong; if i drop the nuk in a rest stop bathroom, I’m using soap. But the parents who go full throttle because it hit the counter in the kitchen or the carpet in the nursery need to fucking relax! I promise, your child will be okay. We ate dirt and drank out of garden hoses and we’re fine. Anymore these days the food we eat is giving us cancer and you’re worried about your baby’s binkie touching a floor that you clean more often than your underwear? Get your shit straight. Plus science says that exposure to the microbial environment benefits children in a multitude of ways including, but not limited to: reduced allergies, heightened immunity, and lowered occurences of eczema and asthma. Science wins. Period.

4. “SHHH… THE BABY’S SLEEPING!!”

NO! That’s a hard no. Do you know what happens when you make everyone tiptoe and whisper every time the baby’s sleeping? You end up with a baby who sleeps like shit. Yeah, good joke universe. I’ll be the first one to request everyone be a little quieter (i.e., not silent, but not screaming) when the baby has just fallen asleep and I’m trying to transfer her from my arms to her rock and play without waking her; but the rest of the time? It’s a normal noise level for my little one. I wanted to be able to do the dishes, listen to music, and walk normally when my child was sleeping so I did all those things while she was sleeping from the very beginning. From the day she came home we made the same amount of noise as we always had. As a result, my girl sleeps like a rock. As I typed that my mom rang the doorbell, causing her two golden retrievers to start barking like maniacs within 7 feet of my sleeping child’s head. She didn’t even flinch; and yes, her hearing is perfect. I’ve met children whose parents kept a silent household while they slept; and to this day, nap time and bedtime rule their households. They can’t have visitors, they can’t get chores done, they can’t talk at a normal level; their lives are controlled by an 8-20 pound tyrant with poor sleeping habits. My child is the light of my life but her sleep time is my free time and I’ll be goddamned if silence is a required part of that.

5. NEVER SAY “NO”!!

I actually read an article that said to never tell your child “no” because it’s “too harsh for your little prince/princess”. Are you fucking kidding me?! Now I can understand using more explanatory sentences such as “Please don’t do that or you may hurt yourself”; BUT sometimes a child needs to hear a quick, concrete “NO”. There seems to be this new-age parenting belief that telling your child “no” will make them lose faith and confidence in you and that it makes them feel as if their lives are limited. This is bullshit! I’m sorry but we were told “no” quite often as children and it made us respect our parents; not to mention, it sometimes when executed in a swift and sudden manner, saved our lives. The parent is the authority figure and no means no; not “I’ll give you ____________ if you do what you should be doing anyway”, and not “No until you whine so much that I cave.” No. There’s no reason you can’t explain the reason for the no after the child has stopped the undesirable behavior; but trying to calmly explain why a child should stop something when they’re neck-deep in it rarely works out. Stop the behavior, then explain.

Building your child’s respect in you takes time and it isn’t always easy but this watered down version of parenting that has become the norm today is not making our children better, smarter, or more confident. In fact, research has shown that children now are more cocky but have less actual self-esteem because they’re constantly told how amazing they are when they haven’t actually earned it and they aren’t given enough opportunities to build themselves up. Helicopter parents have stopped their children from trying things (like monkey bars or contact sports) that they could work at and succeed in, thereby creating real confidence in themselves. And momsters everywhere are demanding other parents raise their children how they do, in whatever way the latest fad demands; and more times than not, the only purpose this serves is to create even more entitled, bravado filled, demanding little brats. Sometimes you have to give and take with your child to get them to listen with the least amount of friction, I get that. But if we’re constantly bribing our children do what they should be doing in the first place then all we’re teaching them is that 1. They’re the ones really in control and 2. They deserve rewards for doing what they’re supposed to instead of something that requires an actual effort. And then we wonder why they’re so entitled? Jesus! My generation has traded in good old-fashioned parenting for bartering, bribing, begging, and conceding. So to that, I say FUCK NO. The better way is not always the easiest way; but it is what’s best for our kids and that is our fucking job: to do what’s best for our kids! I choose to parent my child in the way that I see fit, the way that works for us, regardless of what that article on parenting.com says is best. I believe in keeping my child safe, healthy, and loved. I also love her being happy; but it is my job to be her parent, not her friend (at least until she’s adult). And sometimes being a parent means that your child is not always happy. But if you do a good job, at least you won’t raise a raging doucehbag. I leave you with this..

“If you’ve never pissed your child off, you’re probably not doing your job.”

ashley thingy 2

by Ashley King

© All Rights Reserved 2017