Our Past failures have no relevance


George Bernard Shaw once said, “We are made wise not by the recollection of our past, but by the responsibility for our future”.

I had an amazing breakthrough recently when after a long journey of going through past experiences to resolve current conflicts or learnings, the noise, or haze stopped about my past, I felt that my life journey is not always dictated by others e.g previous relationships, friends opinions,  parents etc

Why do we need our past to justify and complete us to achieve that it is okay to understand, how much weight do we need to attach to the past to go forward?

The above was actually written by my talented husband and I have to say he has a point don’t you think?

We must, however, be honest with ourselves I believe that it all depends on the leverage of what a person has gone through Trauma, PTSD, whichever it lands under a tragic event or in my case events that did occur in my life was unfortunate and I wish it never occurred.

I think the sad part of trauma is that a small part of you is stolen or it slips away without you even being aware of how this will affect you in your current life if it does then you need to understand you’re going to have a life that will limit your lifetime of happiness.

We have no other choice but, to find help from others this is something you must understand when reading this post from me.

To be able to move forward and live a life full of love with “no regret” – these are the steps that I took before walking my path.

I have made a promise to myself:

  • I will learn to love myself and forgive myself for my past as I want to live a life of love going forward.
  • I will learn how to let go of my anger, resentment, guilt, hurt, pity and sadness it makes me feel about myself and those that I love
  • I will get up each day and try because I deserve a full life of love for me
  • I will thank those who have helped me because without them I could not be where I am today
  • I will embrace and thank each good day going forward with rewarding myself with a smile, laughter and effort that I enjoy because joy is a path to happiness.
  • I will learn how to deal with my trauma by whatever, is intended to be released from the events that made me be who I didnt want to be
  • I will learn to trust, love and give my best to those who are helping me live a better life

You must understand that GOALS, in moving forward with Trauma, PTSD is very important in your everyday life because frankly, we must set ourselves limits to achieve greatness in our working life it is no different than in our personal lives.

I am still learning and will continue to learn everyday going forward because even though I may feel better I still will have times I wont be but, that is okay with me because it is better to live a little happier than to exisit with a heart full of pain..

This is what I have learnt and will be using for the rest of my life moving forward

This is my life now as time goes by I will be writing about what really occurred in my life and how I managed to break through each moment of each day.. going forward.

I do this because I truly care about others and do not want to see anyone that has suffered what I have suffered in my past.

Featured post

Who is Watching YOU??

If you have one of those friends who thinks they are being tracked by I dunno, perhaps Aliens.. then I suggest you watch this video….

Handy tracking numbers that will revile ALL…


Watch this Video and track who is tracking you on your Mobile Phone..

Did you know that anyone can get your personal information and read your private messages?

We’ve gathered the most useful codes for smartphones all in one video, together with some instructions on how to detect intruders.

Featured post



We are in a WORLD that seems to be surrounded by Fear, Worry, Anger, Money, Envy, Betrayal, Depression, Anxiety, Suicide, Blame, Jealousy, Hostility, SADNESS..



So, why is it on every news site it’s all the same Bullshit.. All the same… Crap of how we can change but, NO ONE IS CHANGING????

Why is it that I have to write about my past to satisfy people who ONLY will respond to me if I write that I was RAPED!!!

OK, FINE… is that what it will take to get anyone on this WORD PRESS to respond???

Say that I was Raped 9 Separate times in my entire life span… would you even read it?

And I am 50 years old…

My life story is MINE and it does not Define me .. we live in a sad world full of sad and empty memories of nothing.. we hold onto something that isnt present but, we allow it to kill ourselves within ourselves…

Why is it so important that we subject our short lives to something that someone did to us????????????

This isn’t living a full life.. this is allowing our bodies, our minds, and our loved ones to watch us self distruct and die or even worse Kill ourselves – All because we could not…






hqdefault (1)


For me I have No other choice …………..


I have no choice but too.. or I too will DIE….. so please,

Change and FIGHT





Featured post

Want to raise your children with a Open Heart?

Here is the lastest books that I would suggest with raising your children with a Open Mind, without judgement, with love, a willingness to “Change Mindsets for a Beautiful Future”.

While there’s a growing awareness around the importance of prioritizing gender inclusivity in young kids, taking action on this topic is often tricky. There are now dolls that nurture boys’ empathy, and schools are working harder than ever to address gender inclusion in the classroom.

Another great way in is books. We already know that reading aloud to your kids has a myriad of benefits, so why not focus on books that center on gender inclusivity? Here are seven fantastic reads to start with:

Here is something I came across the internet – I especially love the last book below


Ivy Aberdeen’s Letter to the World


When a storm rips through 12-year-old Ivy’s town, she loses a book full of illustrations she’s drawn of two girls holding hands. The truth is, Ivy has feelings for another girl but doesn’t feel comfortable admitting it. Before she knows it, the drawings are appearing in her locker with mysterious notes encouraging her to open up about her identity. Order Ivy Aberdeen’s Letter to the World here.


Whether your child doesn’t identify with one gender or another or has a gender-nonconforming friend or classmate, Neither is an excellent book to promote understanding and inclusivity. Neither is a creature that hatches in the Land of This and That, which only has two types of species: yellow birds and blue bunnies. Neither is part bird, part bunny, and struggles to fit in in a world where it seems every creature around it is one species or another. Order Neither here.

Marabel and the Book Of Fate

Think princes are the only ones who can save the day? Think again. In Marabel and the Book of Fate, Marabel is forced to fight trolls, giants, and fairies in a (s)heroic effort to save her brother, who has been kidnapped by an evil queen. Order Marabel and the Book of Fate here.

Teddy’s Favorite Christmas Toy

Teddy’s favorite toy is his well-mannered, fierce, and stylish doll. But when he tragically loses her one day, his mom must go on a mission to save Teddy’s favorite toy—and she does everything in her power to reunite Teddy with his treasured doll. Order Teddy’s Favorite Christmas Toy here.

Julián Is a Mermaid

While riding the subway with his grandmother one hot summer day, Julián notices three women dressed up as mermaids. He quickly begins daydreaming about working up his own mermaid costume but worries his grandmother won’t accept him if he does. This fun, colorful book grapples with big questions about identity and gender. Order Julián Is a Mermaid here.

Jerome By Heart

Want a book that celebrates intimate closeness between two boys? Jerome By Heart tells the heartwarming story of a young boy named Raphael who deeply loves his friend Jerome. He talks about him so often, in fact, that it drives his parents crazy—but that doesn’t put a stop to his undying love for his companion. Order Jerome By Heart here.

Pink Is for Boys

Blue is for boys and pink is for girls, right? Not in this empowering picture book, which encourages kids to express themselves with every color of the rainbow, not just the ones that have been assigned to them. Order Pink Is for Boys here.

Featured post

Today’s Horoscope say’s it all!!

Featured post

Check out your Hearing .. Listen and discover …

Yanny or Laurel?

Clice below and discover which name do you hear???

Your level of hearing loss might determine your answer.

So cool I found this on the internet check out your hearing to see if you hear either of the above names..

As we get older, we tend to start to lose our ability to hear higher frequency ranges.

So which word you hear could be as simple as your level of hearing loss. Reicke hears “Laurel”, for example, while his eight-year-old grandchild hears “Yanny”.

But Riecke noted that it’s also likely to be a combination of the mechanics of your ears, the audio system playing the sound (which may influence the frequencies) and what your brain expects to hear.

Wait. What do you mean by ‘expects to hear’?

As Jennell Vick, Assistant Professor of Communication Sciences at Case Western Reserve University, explained via The Conversation, “without conscious effort, our brain decides what our ears are hearing”.

In the case of the “Yanny vs Laurel” clip, she argues that the confusion is only possible due to the consonants in the two words – “y,” “n,” “l” and “r”. These are known as “the chameleons of speech”.

“The way one pronounces them morphs based on the sounds that come before and after them in a word. Because of this, it is the brain of the listener that decides their identity, based on context. In this case, the sound is missing a few elements and your brain automatically makes a judgement.”

It does this based on past experiences.

But University of Texas Communications Sciences Professor Bharath Chandrasekaran pointed to another element that may help your brain make this judgement: visual cues. As he noted via The Verge, the clip being circulated online is accompanied by the written question “Yanny or Laurel”, which may play a role in shaping what people hear.

Here’s another example of this. The same sound is played over different images, and most people observe that it seems to change accordingly.


So, what do you hear???

Growing Up was Interesting!! ….1980-1983…”My Saga continues”…

My Name is Francesca, everyone calls me Fran, however, when I was a little girl my brother couldn’t pronounce my real name so he nick named me Fifi.

I was born 15 months after my brother Corrado was born my parents as you can tell by our names where of different cultures my mum Australian born with an Irish twist by her father and my father was Italian from Italy, Molfetta.

I was born and live in Perth, Australia, we lived in a little beach community at the time in Rockingham Western Australia we lived there because my grand parents ran a Hotel in this town and my grandfather had around 30 race horses at our farm or stables as you would call them at the time.

My dad built a little house in the centre of Rockingham and it was just lovely, I was a very spirited little girl I guess you could call me that I suppose it’s really difficult to write about yourself without feeling like your talking about someone that once was..

My nature was I guess too curious for her own good well that is what I could imagine what my mum would say I would always get myself into trouble, however, that is not really how I remember it.

If I had a Chrystal ball I would go back and watch this “other me”, it’s difficult to recall just how I really was so I am trying to remember the good times rather than how I recall them now as an adult.

Here is my story about my brother and I see link: https://thecandiiclub.com/2018/05/15/my-story-growing-up-in-1973-1980s-kids-played-outside/

We grew up in a little white house with a big backyard like the above link states there was a creek across the road which us kids spent a lot of time playing in it and getting rather filthy my mother hated us going over to this creek mainly because when we both did we would end up like two “Muddy filthy kids” that needed to be hosed off in the front yard and let me tell you I do believe we did have our share of mum doing just that.

As I grew up and left Primary School my mum and nanna decided to send me to a College for my High School years to a school run by nuns, my god what a trip to get there it took me 4 buses to just get to Mosman Park and of course I think 5 buses to get back to my house which we had moved by this time to Waikiki near the beach not far from Rockingham.

I think my mum had “big things for me”, not really sure why she would spend all that money sending me to a “College in Perth”, however, regardless she did just do that.

I loved the girls but, hated school and this school was not for me really I don’t really understand why I didn’t but, It felt like I never really fitted in.

Regardless of how I felt at the time I went and met “old friends”, made some really lovely new friends and as time went by I did enjoy it I guess well until I got myself into trouble.

So, lets just get this part over and done with I will list in a short paragraph just what trouble means to me or I should say my mum.  First year I was asked over the microphone to bring my bag to the principle I think it was Sister Ennunciara, what a dreadful women, she told me to open that bag it was the end of school and I was caught with shaving cream, talcum powder, tooth paste, flour your probably wondering what on Earth has she got all of this crap!

Well, it was the end of term or my first year and of course what do you think happens on the buses when your first year ends.. we used to use this to spray over other college kids as a I suppose you would call it as a Celebration of 1 year ended we all did it across all the Colleges it was a lot of fun and we loved every minute of it.

So, by the time I would get home fully covered in shaving cream, flour and my dress was signatured my hat was destroyed and my mother standing their with her mouth wide open in disgust and WTF just happened to you!

I loved it, I loved every minute of it!

So, at this early age of 13 years old it was the start of many moments of me getting myself in strife with my poor mother who thought by this time that I had learnt to be a lady!


I am situated in the second row, second from the left, by this stage I believe I was battling with a perm that went very wrong, either way I think it was the only picture that was taken of me at this school.

Cutting this story short a bit

I lasted two and 1/2 years at “Iona Presentation College”, and as I was just the best student at this school “NOT”, see the girl next to me with the bow (3rd from the left) her name was Nelly and she and I got into alot of trouble in year 10, “caught on the school bus by prefex girls from Iona”. 

Caught with two other girls from another school, smoking ciggerettes on the school bus we ended up being called up over the school mic to head mistress ended up sending us both home and we both had detention for two weeks.

By this time my mother had enough of me and took me out of Iona, with alot of problems this caused me I was given by my mum a “mop and bucket” saying that this was my future and that I was never to amount to anything.

Devistated that I was I ended up going to a school locally in Safety Bay, it was a school that I had no idea what I got myself into to be perfectly honest!  No offense to those who went there but, for me it was like easy pickings you could say!!

I was that kid who lived on “Snob Hill”, who went to a private school and I got shit taken out of me pretty much everyday, I remember it like it was tomorrow, it was difficult for me and it also was a place that I felt like I had hit the ass end of life.

How do I explain this without sounding like I went to jail, sorry folks, but, jesus it was so different to Iona, I felt like I had to do a quick swim to Rotto and back and we all know how long that swim is, RIGHT!


This is me at Saftey Bay High school, the top was from Iona, I had to cut off the sleeves and make it myself, thank god I knew how to sew!

The uniform was brown skirt which I made myself (pensil skirt) with a creme shirt, the shirt was easy to make but the skirt my mother hated it was tight and slutty in her mind!

 She had something else in mind and I went spare at her let me tell you!!!

After sometime I felt much better but, to be perfectly honest I really felt like a fish out of water at this school, the girls where not liking me much, some did thank god and some well bitchy is me being polite!

However, the boys, well that was another story they seemed to like me, I think that was what the girls hated about me.. not really sure why they did but, apparently I did notice a few that could not stop following my ass around, go figure!

It was a long 8 months of year 10 at this school and I must say I met some life long friends that even though I may not speak to these girls I remember them as such great like minded mates that I ended up hanging around after school had ended.

This school only went to year 10 and if you wanted to continue you had to find another school for me it was my end of schooling and my beginning of my life as a young girl in amongst alot of boys..

Boys, Boys, Boys, what can I say, I met a few and this is where I stop this saga of my life and will continue in another post later..

Stay tuned to what will be an interesting story to read…… heheh to say the least… ps.. Megan notice that I have left out a few true tails of what is real… hehehehe  Plus, coming up is the good stuff.. so like comment and please by all means stay tuned..


Featured post

My Story growing up in 1973-1980’s ……Kid’s Played outside……

Children played outside, they rode their bikes everyday, they never ventured in the house and we never had televisions, mobile phones nor did we have expensive stereos to play with…

My Story as a kid growing up – it sure was different!

I wanted share a few amazing wonderful, beautiful, Crazy experiences as a kid that we all went through in those years.

We sure were brought up with a different view in life and how children were punished for being naughty was a little different to what kids call abuse these days.


Some of us have different ways of expressing things that should be difficult to talk about like for example, the wooden spoon on the butt, the belt, the slap of a large hand,  years of mum yelling at us kids, abuse that perhaps would be considered as too much as a child or perhaps it was warranted as a child due to those days when your parents would smack you for being naughty.

We all look at things differently and some of us brush it off as being silly, noisy, don’t tell tales, children were seen and not heard, we in those years never spoke much about teachers who maybe liked taking you out of school just to touch your pretty blonde hair.

Or you wouldn’t talk about kids that you lived down the street holding you back while they touched your brother inappropriately and held me down by sitting on top of a small child to stop me from screaming they would hold my face down into the dirt while taking down my brothers pants thinking they where being funny.

Those days us kids where full of secrets of never telling our parents because apart from that era of not doing anything about it they also would smack you for lying because they really didn’t have the tools to understand somethings did occur to us kids.

I have many stories some funny some a little weird and some darn right wrong, I saw a lot of things mostly because of my own curiosity and fun nature this is a very attractive to some that like spirited little girls who had a bit of sassy inside them like me.

My brother and I were active skinny kids that got up early and we played outside all day long with our friends down the street, we loved our weekends and even after school so never a dull moment ever really went by with us two.

Regardless of whether my parents thought we got along or not we did spend most of our childhood with each other we would ride our bikes everywhere, beach, down the street, we would go to the track and race each other we even used to line kids up and jump over them with our BMX’ bikes we did everything and anything in those days.

We lived down the street from a creek and would always come home dripping in lime because my brother could never crawl across the pipes without falling into the creek and me pulling him out both dirty horribly messy slime dripping from our clothing and of course all in our hair.

My mother once she would see this of us pair coming home looking like really rotten kids that she never asked us if we had fun she assumed that I was the trouble maker and my brother was the child that was scorned by me due to how she felt about life I guess.

Just so you can follow what I am trying to say my brother was 15 months older and he was born with a disability they called it Boarder line slow learner!

What the hell that title really meant I didn’t care all I knew was he was my big brother and I loved him to bits we did have a bloody great time together as kids too I might add.

I remember that my mum she tried hard but, was ever so angry in those times seemed to think that it was my fault that my brother wasnt like every other child for me it was that she blamed me for his disability and I felt her anger every time she hit me.

I wasnt an innocent child at all but, I didn’t feel that I really understood why I would get a belting for being his little sister and why I struggled to understand why my mum that I loved with all my might I felt that she didnt love me quite as much as she loved my brother.

Mum, in those days had to fight a lot with others to be heard I think she was very frustrated at a lot of things that should have been easier but, unfortunately, she wasnt helped because not many people really understood or had the tools to help her.

The schools in our era didn’t have facilities that they have now a days so my brother would be left sitting outside on the bench because the teachers found it all too hard and my brother was neglected by teachers because frankly he was not like the other kids in the class.


I believe he was moved to many schools I think it was 4 schools and finally by the time he was 11 my school had created a class for “special needs students” they called it the “the Special class”.  It was I believe one of the very first class for children that had learning disabilities, to be honest the class was full of kids of many different disabilities and to my brother I believe it was devastating to say the least for him.

For the very first time I felt this feeling for myself firstly it was embarrassing I was only 10 and I knew my brother struggled with being their he was aware he was being stared at then he was teased and bullied and so was I.

What my parents didn’t know everyday was a drama of some stupid kid wanting to beat my brother up so that he would be normal like any other kid..  I remember a boy came up to me saying he is going to make my brother normal by beating the crap out of him so I punched him in the face and told him never to touch him.

I shouted at him (me this tiny little girl) yelling at this big bully who thought he could change my brother by beating him up.

I was angry at this kid and angry at my brother and I did this everyday after school protecting him from idiot children who never knew any better because the adults turned their heads away because it was just too hard for them to help.

Growing up as a little girl wasnt easy but, it did make me stronger, well in a way we had no choice really as kids we all did it.. some of us did it harder I remember our friends some of us didn’t have parents that would dress us nicely some had parents that didnt even care.

My brother and I where never judgemental of other kids we all had those friends that we held onto for years and years and years we hung around them everyday even the bullies our “gang” I guess was made up of at least 5 to 6 kids each day and we grew up with them and we had a ball of course some days we had fights and some days we didn’t just like any other kids in a neighbourhood I think.

Growing up made me aware of things…

Times did change as we grew older .. you became more aware of events in your childhood that should never have occurred, your behaviour changed a little and your awareness became more present for me it did..

I started being aware of myself and how it made me feel every time I was in trouble I was more aware of me being the one that was told off , hit, smacked with a leather belt and that hurt me very much.  I could see games that my brother thought was funny but, he didn’t know any better he started lying blaming me for things and finding it funny.

However, I didn’t and no matter how much I said things where not my fault it didnt matter I would still cop the wrath of my mother who seemed to have changed into a more angry, person than I remembered her as a younger child.

I think that as we grew up and it became more obvious about my brother my mum seemed to get angrier and for some reason because it still wasnt the right thing to do for a female of a child that has a disability she kept her anger within the walls of our home.

I guess we all deal with what we know – those days for adults who had children or a child with a disability would have been very difficult and it would have been hard for her and my father.

My parents are still alive and I think both did the best they could, my mother is still caring partially for my brother who is now in his own home I am very wary of how I write about my family because I do not want to upset them or make them feel that anything was at all wrong.

So, I am lightly writing it as though they are reading it.. this is out of respect for them – you see we all grew up with a different view, the above is my light view.

Well, what that means is I lived a life with an eye of seeing and feeling things some kids perhaps would understand somethings are best unsaid…

The above is a light version of my child life – perhaps my full version may never be written however, we are all uniquely equipped by those who rear our backsides.

What does that mean?

Whatever, you want it to mean I guess…..  remember this saying?




Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: