I decided to participate in this G2K (graciously hosted by ROE) and even though it will be a longer than usual read I think it will be good for me. Good for me? Yes, this was or still is a contributing factor to my anxiety. You’ll see what I mean.




The shaming of an Ex P.O.:

  1. Do you have any known enemies/frienemies?
    Yes, in fact, it can reach nationwide and even overseas when the weather of circumstance is right. Why the long reach? Read on.
  2. How long has this feud been going on?
    About a year now. And the backstabbing and venomous women still lurk with forked tongues.
  3. What is the reason behind this failed relationship?
    The feud isn’t something I started but rather a situation of circumstance. When my husband decided to leave a motorcycle club the rules of friendship changed. I was now 86ed from everything.  I don’t make the rules but it’s the nature of the beast. I supported my husband’s decision just as I did when he decided to join. The few women that said that we could continue friendships didn’t realize that it would be difficult to maintain and now join in talking about me behind my back. Worse, they’ll invite me out for coffee just to see how bad I’m doing. So now, I just don’t go to the invites and focus on my family. Before you jump to thoughts of Sons of Anarchy…it’s nothing like what you see on TV nor do I talk about what happens. That’s my rule.
  4. Will this mend itself with time or will it require work?
    No, the relationship cannot mend itself as it isn’t our rules we are living by. I’m an outsider that cannot look in. Truth is, I don’t want to. I’ve passed on my wisdom and advice to the younger ones and hope that they too understand what true support and unconditional love means. Unfortunately, even though the brothers preached it, it wasn’t shown for my husband.
  5. Are you willing to put in the effort to save this relationship or just drop the feud? Why or why not?
    Actually I can’t but in reality, how could I? Knowing now what they think and say about me, why would I? I went into this with my husband knowing full well what it could be like. What I didn’t expect was the browbeating, ranking system (There isn’t one with women because it’s not our club. They just didn’t seem to realize that), and a lot of two-faced situations. You never know when you’re being recorded, watched, or tattled on and I became a paranoid person. I hated going to functions, worrying about what could happen if I spoke out of turn or be ridiculed because I wore too much of a certain color. Why would I want to be around those women ever again?

I’m actually ok with the rules of being on the outs. One positive approach I see in it is that it has shown me what true friendship is. Unfortunately, it wasn’t there, not with those women. The club preached a philosophy of family and supporting one another but had no concept (even after my failed suicide attempt). Why try to be with people who don’t see it as what they speak of? Him leaving is a shame that they try to make me feel. It’s not my shame to feel and really it isn’t his either. It’s them that failed at being brothers and sisters.

Life and Death of a Patch

It’s not the patch that makes the man, it’s the man that makes the patch.

My gut dropped when I seen the brother walk through the door of the bar I work at. My husband rides with a club and worked hard for the patches on his back. Club dues, repos of certain property, late nights guarding bikes, bartending behind club bars, and that’s only the legal things I can mention. But this visit wasn’t a social call.

My husband and I work hard for everything we own. He worked almost 90 hours a week (taking him away from a lot of his club functions) and my two jobs we were living comfortably. Until he lost his job. Then our family depended on my two jobs, half the income we were use to. The club didn’t help with our bills, or offer food, nothing. Their speeches of family became more bullshit than a way of life.

My husband, Chase, had landed a job interview on a Friday. The same Friday the club was leaving for a weekend-out of state run. They gave him a choice: go on the run our go on the run. He decided that supporting his family was more of a priority than a run. He stayed behind and landed the job! I was so proud of him. A week went by without incident and he reminded me that he had ‘church’ that Saturday but wasn’t going to go, he had a lot to think about.

Sunday, in serving drinks, the music was playing, Chase was playing pull and that’s when I heard the door open and seen possible fate walking through the door. The brother ordered a drink, paid, and asked Chase to step outside. The dark feeling loomed over me as I tried to stay calm and in good spirits for the patrons. They walked in together and the brother slammed his drink. Chase winked, ‘It’s ok, I’ll be right back.’ Kissed me in the forehead and left.

I wanted to go with. I wanted to protect him because I knew it could go sideways quick. 45 minutes later Chase walked in, without marks and smiling. SMILING! ‘They took our cuts. It’s a good thing because their lack of sense of family and compassion just turned me sour. You sat with wives when they were going through chemo, we watched kids when they went to jail and we even bought food for their tables when they fell on hard times and they expected me to go on a run instead of going to my interview. THEN he had the nerve to tell me the club teaches you they’re your family when their motto is ‘FAMILY, WORK, CLUB. The look of disgust on his face was an understatement for how he really felt. My nauseating feeling quickly left. He then said, ‘The patch gave me a new way of life, but this club’s values will be the death of the true meaning of the patch.’

In a way he’s right, if they had more men like him wearing the patch, the club would of warrior men. Not snakes speaking with forked tongues of values they mimic in the darkness.

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