The End

For a couple of months now, I’ve been thinking it is time to end Everyone Has A Story. I almost never write here anymore, and it has been very evident that I’m okay now. I’m over Chef. He texts me now and then, but it is never anything I welcome, and most of the time, I don’t answer. All of that time period is gone — Chef, Tion, Simon. Rob. Bandidos. I just don’t miss any of it. I’m happy in my new life now, and frankly, I remember when I  genuinely doubted that could be possible for me again after loving someone so much. 

Color me surprised!!

Everyone Has a Story was set up when my husband, Chef, tanked our marriage, and I’m not at all sorry I kept a sort of online diary of what that felt like. But truth be said, I’m too content with life these days to say much more about any of it. The pain now is but a faded memory.

I thought it would be fitting to write a summary of this entire website as a eulogy to my life with Chef as an ending to this website, and to say goodbye to some of my favorite followers. But, let’s face it. I was a chaotic mess, and when I read where my mind was on some of this stuff, even I have no clue.

So, I plan to keep it up, because I still get emails from sad people going through exactly the same thing I went through all the time I was losing Chef. My insanity might make them feel a little less alone and nuts. There’s nothing like feeling  a little whacko to really spice up the flavor of losing everything and everyone you love. Right?

These days the truth is, this story in my life is over. I’m happy. I’m blessed. I’m ready for the next chapter. And this chapter is, somewhat tragically, over. I’ve moved on. It happens.

So here it is. The last post for EHAS.

We all lead complicated lives. For me, I was a statistic regular. I was an abused child who learned too early that people, mainly men, couldn’t be trusted. Despite that, I ended up married to man that I truly loved for over 20 years. It took me literally a decade to relax into my own marriage, but once I had, I was invested and dedicated. I loved Chef, and to this day, I feel that he loved me.

Chef decided one day to join the Bandidos Motorcycle Club. I’m not going to lie here. I was interested in this turn as events as well, since studying human behavior is truly one of my favorite interests. We made some deep friendships, and lived in this culture for a decade. Then one day, everything came crashing down.

My Chef developed an addiction to meth. He had travelled to a funeral for a fallen “brother”, and somewhere along the way, he had used this drug to stay awake.

How typical is it that some of our worst decisions end up being decided so

But it looked like so much fun!!! Trust me. It isn’t.

recklessly? Chef had struggled with drugs before he had ever met me, but unfortunately for all of us, I did not know that. And sadly, even if I had, it wouldn’t have made any difference. Addiction is one of those roads we all travel alone.

Meth leads to a lack of foresight into future consequences, and Chef blew up our marriage. He is guilty of physical and mental abuse, lying, and infidelity. It all was too much, and without warning, I was left with no choice but to abandon him.

People will often say that what I did was abandoning a man who was sick, or that if I was really a servant of Jesus, I would have stuck through all of the pain and misery. Truly, there was time I would have agreed. But I learned within a couple of years of torture and devastation, God wasn’t interested in the plight of my marriage – He was rescuing me from something. We all say in our marriage vows, ” What God has united, let no man pull asunder” but we forget, what God doesn’t want united, that will be torn apart.

God knows me. He knows that reality can be a bit harsh for me, and I have been guilty of trying to mitigate it with alcohol and drugs myself. While I have always been able to turn back to God and cry out in my guilt and humiliation for being so weak, others, like my ex, have not. I believe with my whole heart, I’m not a drug addict or an alcoholic because God decided that isn’t the road He had planned for me. Instead, He showed me what this journey must look like, and feel like, so I would never judge other people who got caught up in this harshly. I believe, He ended my marriage with Chef almost the minute my youngest child, Bug, left home because His plan for me was something different than His plan for my ex. He loved me enough to not sentence me to a miserable life of drugs, which is the life my ex, Chef, had chosen.

It is a sad fact that most Americans will experience a divorce, and even sadder, most of us will experience a devastating loss due to someone we love becoming addicted to drugs. I’m not special in this, and that is truly sad.

But one thing I’ve learned from this experience is that we can heal from it, even those of us so heartbreakingly wrecked. Life is a beautiful thing, and even those events that seem so awful and so permanent are truly valuable to our ability to appreciate what this world had to offer. It is only those of us with tragedy, disappointment, and grief in our eyes that understand what the price of a seasoned soul looks like, and comprehend how very valuable a lesson that really is. I just wouldn’t change a thing about my life, even if I could.

I want to say thank you to all of you for being my sounding board through this so very common sort of heartbreak. I want to encourage you all to take a page from my own lesson book and realize, this too shall pass. You are the only one who can decide whether you emerge from this hell better, or worse, and I hope for all of your sake, it is the former.

EHAS was so therapeutic, cathartic, and frankly fun, and I know, there are going to be times, I’m going to be sad I said good-bye. But it is time.

Good-Bye!!

~Bird

Advertisements

Stuff A Chick Should Know About Hooking Up With 1%er Guys

tulsa-drags-april-2011-076_cropOf all the topics I write about on here, the one that tends to get more attention than I care for is biker clubs. It isn’t that the subject isn’t interesting. It is. It is just that I have a lot of mixed feelings about it. There are parts of being around that lifestyle I miss, and other parts I simply do not. I have loved more than one Bandido or his ole lady in my life. I’ve also despised a few of them as well.

So, when I get contacted about advice about club stuff, I get… nervous, I guess is the best way to describe it.

The people who contact me about club stuff are always women, and they are either trying to get in to the culture, or they are angryBird (4 of 1)-11 for being pushed out of it. There really doesn’t seem to be any other reason I get these personal communications. Here’s the thing. I really can’t help with either problem. I’m no longer involved with any Bandidos, so I can’t make introductions, even if I wanted to; but, despite the ups and downs, I also don’t hate them, so if you do, I still can’t help you. I won’t be joining into any bashing sessions either.

The topic is coming up a lot more since the Waco Shooting Incident. I guess it’s time to write a quick post that might help both sets of women who are either embarking on the life or leaving it.

If you’ve watched Sons of Anarchy, are gullible enough to believe most of that stuff, and you still feel like being in the one-percenter world is for you, here are a few things I have found to be true about the culture:

  1. These kinds of clubs are for men, not women. You have accept that. What you don’t have to accept is that you are expected to act in a certain way because the stereotypes of cropped-bird-4-of-1-4.jpgbiker chicks say so. For instance, you are a human being. Your body belongs to you. Don’t just be giving it away like it has no value. Though it can be a little tougher, you actually can quietly command more respect than is normally understood by outsiders(Citizens); but it all begins with respecting yourself.
  2. If you hook up with a patch holder, then break up and hook up with his brother, then break up and hook up with another brother, you are telling everyone involved, both the men and the women, that the patch is more important to you than the man wearing it. Don’t do that. I only know of one chick who did something similar to this, but there were years between each man, and it did hurt her reputation for awhile. Just don’t do it. Once you are labeled a “patch whore”, you will be despised by the women and disrespected by the men. Always try to think of the long game.
  3. You would be wise to get in good with the women first. If you don’t, they are the number one reason women get driven off — not the men. Don’t think for a minute the men are going to stick up for you against their brothers’ ole ladies. Don’t be retarded.
  4. If the patch is more important to you than the guy, and you are able to admit to it, then remember, pick a team. You can’t first be in the Red & Gold clubs and then hop over to the Black & White ones. Neither of the camps will ever trust you again. Why should they? You’ve proven you aren’t loyal.
  5. Despite everything, real human beings are what comprises these clubs. Three-piece patches don’t automatically change who a man is on the inside. The clubs are large, and thousands of different men bring their own strengths and weaknesses to the table. If he was good man before the patch, he’ll probably remain a good man. If he wasn’t, he won’t become one. The club has power in certain areas, but it doesn’t change who a person is deep down inside of their heart.
  6. I would never recommend a woman join this culture. I would never have chosen it for myself. My husband chose it after we had been married for over a decade, and I can admit, I
    Everyone Has A Story...
    Everyone Has A Story…

    didn’t fit into it all that well. I just hid how I felt about stuff a little better than most. I think every woman should really look at the pros and the cons of a life like this and ask herself if the risk is worth it. You are only in it as long as your old man allows you to be, and like me, it can all be gone in an instant. Citizens will always assume you must have been some kind of prostitute/junkie/drug mule because of your stint in the life, whether it’s true or not. Be ready for the consequences to your reputation.

  7. For those of you bitter and angry about no longer being in the life, let me say this: We all knew going in that it could be gone in the time it takes to snap your fingers. How angry and upset at the club as a whole can you really be? I’ll admit. I blamed the Bandidos for Chef, but I also blamed Panera Bread, a tweaker homeless drug dealer, Chef’s sandwich-artist girlfriend, her mother, and a host of other minor players in this unfolding drama. In the end, it was only Chef, and in a smaller part, my own self, that destroyed my marriage. Not the Bandits. Not the drug dealers. Not Panera Bread. Just Chef and me. Let the anger go. In the end, they never promised any of the females anything else. None of us were above the rules, no matter how long we were in or how well we were liked.

Ok. That’s about all I’ve got, guys. I really hate this subject, so please. No offense, but I don’t really like giving advice about how to break into this culture. I simply won’t be answering anymore emails about it. I apologize if I seem to be rude, but personally, I would hate for any of my daughters to be in this culture, so helping other women get into something they may or may not be able to handle just does not appeal to me. This the last response I will be making about women joining these sorts of cultures.

Bird (4 of 1)-15

~ Bird

 

 

cropped-Bandido-Chef.jpg