Nicole Labonte

It's been so long since I've posted, or even written really. Recently wrote 'if walls could talk' but I will post it another day.

What have I been up to?
Life, life just keeps rolling, whether we feel we can catch up or not.
Work does take a lot of my time and energy, but trying to separate work from my home life as much as I can.
Being a mom to a teenager is always an easy time... said no mother ever 😅.
Don't forget the 5 cats we have 😅. Yes 5!
(Ellie, Eli, Xander, Frankie and our most recent, our stray boy Asher)

I can't believe where I am now to where I was 5 years ago.

I lived my life always believing there was something wrong with me, that I was unlovable, unwanted by everyone around me.
Proof was in the mother who made me feel like s**t every chance she had. No matter what I did it was never good enough, yet she couldn't see her own reflection of mistakes. There was no 'trying to protect me'. She humiliated me every chance she got, and the reason most don't see it? She didn't do it in front of people, only when I was by myself did she put me down, call me fat, shame me for who my father was, something I didn't choose.
Her mistakes, her bad decisions, my fault.

Here I am now, living my life completely the opposite to how I was raised.
My home is not filled with anger, or chaos. It's filled with laughter, with communication, commitment.
I am not her, I will never be her.
Although some will make me out to be something I'm not and that's ok. I know who I am, and yes it took so many years to finally be ok with myself. I still struggle, and yes I carry years of pain inside. Of course it will always hurt to have a mother who doesn't know how to be one.
But, I use that, to be the opposite of her so I can raise my child never knowing that pain, never feeling unwanted or like a burden when they're around.
The pain still lives here, more in the shadows than on the surface these days.
My sarcastic tones and comments are just ways I have learned to cope.
I chose to do a lot of things in life, in the past that I hate. I wish I had grasped better onto life, had better strategies for coping but I learned. I lived and I learned.
I took charge on life and I feel great about the progress I have made in the last few years.
All the things I lived, have made me who I am today.
I could have become something much different, but I chose to do better.
I don't drink, even though at times it was a way to forget things, a distraction tactic when I wasn't working.
Work was always something I did, almost a hobby. Being busy, pushed it all down, but yes it eventually came to the surface and I exploded.
Years of pain, years of anger, and emotions.
Not knowing how to handle myself and all the things that came with years of burying.

It's now 2026, and next month my spouse and I are celebrating 3 years together!

I'm lost in words sometimes on how to describe our relationship.
I asked him last night if I had been in a coma for the last three years, and I have been dreaming this whole time of what a relationship is supposed to be.
He laughed of course, as this isn't the weirdest thing I have ever said or asked him.

To somewhat describe us, it's like living with your best friend, the way they talk about in movies, but for real.
We talk out everything, there are no arguments, we talk through every thing that comes up.
We laugh together every single day, I can actually be my true self with him.
We work together like a true team, wanting the same things.
We are a perfect balance; he's the logic to my emotion, he's the introvert to my ambiverted self.
We share a love for music, although he has a flare for new while I listen to my older well loved songs, or bands.
Life is never boring, and for once I don't feel the need to be out, I love our home and our bubble.
I may not be as active in my writing, but I'm finally in a good place. Yes I have PTSD, and that will never go away, but he supports me through it all. Every day is exciting, and I love life, even through the hardest days, he makes it bearable. The laughter, the understanding, everything.
My heart didn't want to chance being broken ever again, and I had come to terms with that before he and I started dating.
Being neighbours years ago was fate, not knowing then obviously.
Every time we passed each other, the quick hello's, the small talk.
Neither of us knew, that we were meant for each other.
There was something I saw in him, but I never knew what would it would become.
He's home ❤️.
I have been quieter, for the first time in life I'm content, and enjoying life the way it is.
What we've created, and keep creating.
He helps raise my child, as if he's been there from day one, and not because I ever expected it, but because he cares. He loves hard, as I do.

I couldn't ask for more, and I will never stop being grateful for every day we've shared and all the days ahead together.
Our life, my fantasy. Never thought it would happen, but he's made me believe that I am loveable and that even though my humanly flaws, he still loves me, supports me.
I will always do the same and more because I love him and everything he is.

So if I'm quiet, not posting as much it's because I am happily enjoying life not behind a screen.

I will never give up on writing, it is still a part of me, will always be a part of me.

Thank you all for still being here through my silence.

Nicole 🖤

I remember days where I felt like I couldn't continue, retracing steps just to backtrack.
I remember when I was hiding away, to mask my grief trying to conceal my thoughts and fears, although they were visible upon my face.

I remember those days my strength being tested, it had been buried under the hurricane of loss and stress.
My life had felt like one constant storm, with eyes to feel like calm was coming, but the eye of the storm is just a pause in chaos to come.

I remember living in myself, in my head, self loathing and anger, shedding years of tears and madness.
Blaming the world around me, living so deeply in my mind, yet afraid to look deep within.

I remember when I found myself, a long and painful road, but the me that I knew inside, finally became the me I preferred.

I remember when my life was pain, inconsistent, dark skies and rain.

Now my life is healthy tears and
normal fears.
Laughter and smiles,
Real for infinite miles.
Finding my soul mate, my mini me, and having a loving home that I prayed so hard for.

I remember life before, I will never go back there, to that place I don't want to remember.

Nicole Labontè
xoxo

I'm at a crossroads with my writing, and unsure of what to do.
Debating on old projects, working on the sequel to my book, but struggling with where to go at this point.
I don't write enough lately to fill my page, so I don't bother. Is it writer's block?, because this feels more permanent than temporary, and I cannot find poetic words, unless to repeat myself.
I wrote to heal from trauma, but is that not continuing to live with it, instead of moving on?
So what kind of writer am I if I have lost my poetic words, I can feel them, but ability to transfer onto paper has become excessively difficult.
Sadly, I wrote for an annual writing contest that I have wanted to enter for many years, and didn't, but this year I finally did.
I'm not a sore loser, but I guess not knowing how I did, just knowing I wasn't a winner affected me more than I like to admit. Was it horrible? Was it poorly written? Was it the worst? Maybe my worst case scenario mind is too hard at work, but this is how I think.

I was ten years old when I picked up a pen and started Journaling, to which I learned many years later is the same year (1994) my biological father passed away of a massive heart attack.
I wrote and wrote for years, never sharing with anyone, just another thing my mother had shamed me for, my writing was too dark for her liking, although the darkness I felt and still sometimes feel is from her excessive judgment, her lack of encouragement.
It was just another part of me she hated, or 'she didn't understand' or my personal favourite 'I don't relate to you' so she just didn't bother to try.
A flaw in myself, that I now understand, I need to feel encouraged. A weakness that shames me, but where do I go from here?
Try to force words from my soul? Try to pretend I don't care that I failed?
I know we can't always win, I know I was probably going up against hundreds of extremely talented poets, and maybe my poetry is lacking something.
It sounds silly to say these things, but I'm being open as I always am on my page.

I like to be real, I need to be. I can't write words that are meaningless. Growing up with a parent that wears a disguise around others is confusing, never knowing how to be, who to be, something I still carry.
Even if no one reads my work or no one encourages me again, I cannot write things that are untrue, just for a few likes.
I don't write for views and praise, but sometimes it's defeating when you feel like you're losing the one thing you've been given as an out, a healthy coping mechanism. I relied on it more of my life than not, so where does that leave me now?
Sit back and wait for the words to return?
With no deadlines or events to look forward to, is there pressure to write?
Do I force myself to resume old projects I wanted to work on?
Art should never be forced, but maybe pushing myself a little harder will help my words fall into place.
Maybe it's not a simple answer, but writing this makes me feel a little less heavy.

Nicole Labontè
xoxo

I've had my rants about entitlement and greed before, and the last thing I wrote focused very heavily on it, but it's on my mind frequently, and more so every year.
However, another thing that has been on my mind lately is something I have also talked about with co workers.
When people say 'You're too young for that'.

Seems like a harmless statement to some, but sometimes it's hurtful to the one hearing it about themselves.
'You're too young for Grey hair'.
I wish someone had told my genetics that, because I had Grey hair at 17, now at 40, yes I have to colour my hair, and frequently, because I am ashamed of the Grey hair that came for me super young.
'You're too young to be in that much pain.'
Maybe so, but not everyone had to work 2 jobs, and at one point 3, just to survive as I was kicked out at 17.
Fresh out of high school, not knowing what I was going to do with my life, I was scared and barely an adult.
'You're too young to have this many health problems'.
Some people are unlucky and are born with health issues, like asthma, heart issues, children can even have arthritis.
I have a co worker, who has severe asthma, and is deathly allergic to peanuts. She hears this all the time and I see it on her face, the defeat, the sadness, the feeling of why does my body fail me?
Pain is real to some, even if it's invisible to others.
Simple comments, that may seem harmless,
But,
You're too young... for this, is that harmless?
To tell someone they are too young for something their body did, something they can't control.
I was too young to see some of the things I saw,
I was too young to carry the weight I had to carry,
But I had no choice.
I was too young when I lost my childhood, but I lost it.
Vague memories of life, but not of living.
Am I too young to not remember my life as a child? Or a teenager?
Are people my age not allowed to have chronic pain?
Injuries happen, that we don't always heal from, the body can only take so much.
Genetics win, and to some it's defeating.
I'm that person, that pushes through as much as I can, until I cant, and the guilt I feel inside is real.
While minimal, I have arthritis in my right hand, yes at only 40. Will it get worse as I get older? I can already see the crooked fingers, and the pain is very much real.
I may sound like I am complaining, I feel like sometimes I explain things in such a way that it comes across as complaints, or pity seeking.
But, I write what's on my mind, and what's in my heart.
Genetics will be Genetics, some good some bad, but maybe before saying to someone you barely know that 'you're too young' think about all the things you don't know.

Judge less, build up don't tear down, you don't know another person's story, or the roads they may have traveled.

Nicole Labontè
xoxo

I have spoken many times about entitlement, and those who know me well know that I can go on rants about it, but seriously, what happened to people?
2020 happened, we were all locked down, then it all became one big conspiracy. People were panic buying s**t that they didn't really need, some to hoard and some to sell for double the price. It made me sick to see, and now five years later people have learned nothing.
People are more greedy than ever,
While the ones who are working their asses off, breaking their backs every day are going without.
Watching those who break laws get slapped on the wrist, only to do it again.
Stealing from corporations, thinking they're 'entitled' to products that they didn't pay for.
Hurting corporations, only hurts the workers.
Boycotts? It affects the workers inside, not at the top.
Thinking you're helping, but really hindering, but don't care to hear it.
Everyone is always in a rush, their time more valuable than anyone else.
Running late? Must be every one else's problem now.
Social media only makes everything worse, what was meant to be a way to connect, is more ammunition, more ways to bully, the 'warriors' behind the keyboards.
Police do their jobs of catching criminals, only to have to let them go because now we don't lock up thieves and the corrupt.
Inflation increasing, minimum wage cannot keep up.
Crooked sleazy landlords tripling rental prices; rent a shoe box, but pay double your monthly income. It's ok though, because houses are now on average over $700,000 right?
Groceries are becoming impossible to buy, while people want to judge everything you eat or don't eat.

What happened to people?
No common sense, no empathy, no patience.
People are overworked, underpaid, but judged by what they have or don't.
Too poor to survive?
Must be eating too much take out, give up your daily coffee, it couldn't possibly be that wages don't equal the rate of inflation.

What happened to people?
Humanity?
Trust is hard to give, in times where people care mostly about themselves.
Where is the humility, kindness is hard to find.
Money is the root of all evil, all things wrong with the world.
We need to spread the wealth, compliment; not bully, build up, not break down.
Tax the rich, and help the poor,
Middle class becoming extinct.

How do some sleep at night?
Their daily mission to take from those who have nothing, to count their 'gold' and make sure they have more than they could ever need or use in a lifetime.
Those who lie to get what they want,
Steal from those who worked hard, those who are trying to run a business.
Entitlement and greed are swallowing us whole, drowning in debt and society.

How do we begin to fix a world that is so broken?
Just like a puzzle, one tiny piece at a time.
As I always say,
Be the change you want to see, and remember, kindness is always free ✨️

Nicole Labontè
xoxo

Why do I procrastinate so much? 🥴.
The night before a deadline and I had a cortisone shot in my writing hand, I never learn 🙃.

***Not my Artwork***

Older but edited 🖤

Spending a few days with music has inspired me ✨️

***Not my picture,
Taken from Pinterest***

Words are mine 🖤