Friday, May 29, 2015

I Promise I Would Come Looking For You In Heaven ...

I Promise I Would Come Looking For You in Heaven, Son
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I Promise I Would Come Looking For You in Heaven, Son
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Today makes 5 years you have been gone
I sit here thinking of you, Son
Tears run down my cheeks
Drench my Heart ... rains on my Soul

I miss you, Son ... it hurts so bad
I've never felt such pain
It never goes away no matter how much I pretend
I've lost my only child, yet ... I appear all right
I have to play the game of life
Go on so ... all can live around me

Without worrying I'm going to break
Go to pieces at any moment ... everything's all right

I pretend enough that even I believe
Everything's going to be all right
Underneath the surface is another story
It's one no one else can see ... I know it's there 

Sweet Chadwick ... the last Pup link to Tommy.  Tommy loved Chadwick and his funny personality.  Chadwick born 5-13-2007  ... died 1-16-2015

Tommy and Taban ...

 Tommy trying to make Taban laugh after he'd been crying ...

Skip and Kissy Fairchild ... Tommy didn't get to know Kissy.  Our other Rottie, Fairchild who was 12 years old ... died several months after Tommy.  We got Kissy soon after  ... Kissy's birthday is November 02, 2010.  Tommy's birthday is November 20 (1969).  

Precious Camie ... Tommy didn't get to know Camie, either.

Sweet Chadwick ... how Tommy loved to play, pick on Chadwick!

Tommy getting to see his daughter, McKenzie ... after a long time.  

Tommy ... I miss you, Son.  His wife gave me the card, and Tommy's photo/ornament after Tommy died (at Christmas 2010).  I treasure it.  I'll always love her. (and McKenzie's mother).

Tommy's hat ... it fell to the sand when he collapsed with 3 blockages to his heart ... at Myrtle Beach, S.C.  May 29, 2010.

On the refrigerator ... remembering my Son, always.

Tommy's hat ... flowers ... and ...

 Tommy's lock of hair/ Tommy's Chest

Tommy's wife gave this to me at Xmas after Tommy died.  I put it on the Bottle of Light that a good friend, Cindy Blackmon, made for us.

 My Son, and I ...

Skip, myself (Gloria), and Tommy ... 

Skip and I ...

My precious Son, Tommy ... my only child.

My Precious Husband, Skip ...

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Remembering my only child, Tommy ...

I Cry For Tommy Logo ... made for me by Donna Orbon Jamila

And ...  it hurts so bad.

I make Dragonflies in memory of Tommy. 

Tommy holding his newborn son, Taban.

My son, Tommy ...

A book of pure grief I wrote ... I can't remember writing it.  Pain ... pure pain.

Grief ... a grieving mother's pain
Love for her child even though he's not there
Today is the anniversary of my Son's death
I love you Tommy, today ... I'm remembering you

I remember you always, today isn't any different
But ... we humans always honor a day
When significant things happen to us
Today's date is a reminder my son went away

Away forever, breaking my very Heart
I didn't think I could recover
Recover I did ... got up, dusted my pants off
It was the worst fall in my entire life

Thought I'd die when I lost the only child
I ever had ... treasured with my Heart
Skip, our Pups ... made me come back
I promise if it hadn't been for them ...

I would have come to Heaven looking for you
My son, a part of me whom I loved like life
Yes, I promise I would have come to Heaven
Looking for you, Son

But now ... I'm not alone
I have my whole world here
Skip, The Pups ... I can't leave them alone
I love you, Son ... today I'm crying for you

Because it's all right ... today everyone understands
Why I would cry tears of pain
It's the anniversary of your death
It's all right to cry ... on anniversaries ... it's all right to cry today

I'm remembering you, Precious Son
Sometimes, my tears are pure frustration
For the short time, I had you in my Life
Sometimes, the pain is just ... too bad

Thank God for Skip, our Pups
Thank God for my very World
I can't leave them ... if I didn't have them
I promise I would come looking for you in Heaven, Son


Note by this Author:
*** Tommy died May 29, 2010 ... Today, May 29, 2015 makes 5 years now. Five years of pure pain ... pain that means pure love for the only child I ever had. I am a mother of one child who is no longer here ... I am a grieving mother now.

*** I weep tears at this moment while all alone. I can't make anyone else sad, they can't see me cry ... cry my tears of pure pain, so many they almost drown my Soul ... they fall straight from my Heart. I can't believe the tears I have left to cry ... so many, who would have believed after all the tears I've cried in 5 whole years?

***Don't feel sorry for me. I'm writing the pain from my fingertips onto the keyboard ... it's my way of expressing my grief. That way I don't have to let others see me cry ... all they will see is a happy smile that's real because I'm really glad to see them.

When you read this, it can help you understand another mother's pain if she's lost a child. You can read here, go quietly along your way never having to say a word. Don't worry about me, I have become strong ... strong as the biggest redwood tree.

I have weathered many storms in my life ... they've knocked me down, I keep getting up ... I have found out something even I didn't know ... I 'wasn't supposed to be here, today' ... why?

Because ... 16 years ago I should have died ... the oncologist said that 98% of people who had what I did ... aren't alive today? I wonder why ... I wonder why I am alive today? Do you ever wonder why?

Never feel sorry for me ... I never have felt sorry for me. I learned as a child to face life head-on no matter how painful. I'll do it until the day I die ... I am strong as a redwood tree ... I'll weather any storm until one day ... I'll bow my head, let the winds blow me away to my final resting place.

I remember you today, Son. I'm so grateful to have Skip, whom you loved with your very Heart. I'm so grateful to have our Pups ... you never knew ... these Pups.

Sweet Chadwick died on January 16, 2015 ... he was the last of our Pups that you knew, loved, laughed at because of his funny ways. I'm so glad I have Skip and our Pups, Son. I'd be looking for you in Heaven if I didn't. Love, Mama

Sunday, May 24, 2015

Don't Judge Me by my Characters ...

Don't Judge Me by my Characters ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

When I write, I don't want to have to worry about what my characters will say.  I write, I let them be themselves without worrying I'll be judged for what they do, say.

My characters have their own distinct personalities.  Some are very nice, some are ugly, some are bitchy, and just downright nasty.  Some of them will say things that I don't want to reflect back on me, the author.

I am writing this not to apologize for my characters when some of them talk, act ugly.  I write this to ask you to not let my characters ... reflect on me.  Don't judge me by my characters.

It would be like your adult child showing his ass ... and everyone think bad of you.  Or, your uncle goes crazy in a bookstore, shoots everyone ... it isn't fair for someone to look down on you for their actions.

I get caught up in writing not thinking about what my readers are going to think of me.  Once in a while like at this moment, I become aware of how one of my characters thought, spoke ... in my last story ... while writing her.

Did you read my story 'God Told Margaret To Help Others On Their Way ... She Did'?  Well, Margaret said a few ugly words in that story.

At this moment as I become aware of how she spoke ... I think to myself I hope my readers don't think I'm like that.  So ... every once in a while I stop to tell my readers not to judge me by my characters.

I can't write to please everyone ... and there are times when I write, there are going to be several 'ugly' words.  It's not me ... to write many ugly words.

I have several I use that most people use daily.  That's when I'm ... me.  That's when I'm my own ... character.  I'm a good person who will say an ugly word or two, but never meaning them in a bad way.  Well ... not usually.  :)

I can't predict how my characters in my stories are going to act, talk.  When I am in their world ... I am painting with words what I see, hear.

Sometimes, I am typing words so fast that lots of time goes by before ... I come back to my own world.  I begin reading what I've written, seen in ... their world.  Sometimes ... I cringe when I see what a character has done ... said.

I couldn't be true to myself if I began trying to clean up my characters ... making them into something they aren't.  They wouldn't be anyone I knew if I did ... so, how could I write them?

I write what I feel as I see the world through my characters' eyes.  I find myself tearful, or laughing ... angry, happy with ... for them.  I become ... them.  I don't like sometimes what they say or do.

I stop now.  I wrote this to my readers so, they can understand me.  I am my characters sometimes, but ... not all the time.  Some of them I don't like at all ... wouldn't associate with.  I write this to ask you ... don't judge me by my characters.

Photos/my written note to my readers ... are owned by me. Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

God Told Margaret To Help Others On Their Way ... She Did

God Told Margaret To Help Others On Their Way ... She Did

This is a fictional story about a devious woman who ... did God's work in helping others to ... come home.  When God needed someone in his flock to tend sheep ... he depended on Margaret.  Written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee.

  Artwork by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

She didn't look like much.  No one paid her any mind.  When she spoke, her voice didn't match her appearance.  One would take a second look at her ... for a moment they knew she was ...

Still, it didn't make any difference ... she didn't look any better.  But ... that was the defining moment if one was alert enough ... to know she was very slick.  That was the moment one would know ... this woman's no dummy.

She went about life in her simple, country way smiling, greeting others, "Hello!  how are yall?"  Yes, she was thought highly of, this little simple lady from the community.  No one knew ...

Margaret went to church every Wednesday night, Sunday morning, Sunday night.  She was big in her church.  Margaret was a God-fearing woman.

She never missed a day from her third shift job.  She worked hard at her job ... and taking care of her disabled boyfriend of seven years.  They lived together.

Damn!  He lived longer than she meant for him to.  She was taking too good of care of him! Unknowing to him ... she had taken out an insurance policy at the beginning of their relationship.

She began taking longer to get home from work to give him medicine as his health began to decline. No one knew she was helping him to go to Heaven quicker.  She knew God needed him!

Be damned, she was going to help God get him quicker.  If she had anything to do with it ... and she did ... God would see him within the month.  No one would be the wiser.

She woke up on Sunday morning, walked into the bedroom where he slept.  Her eyes traveled to the bed ... scanned over the frail figure that lay half under blankets.  She looked at his face ... froze.

God!  You did it!  You came to get your child!  She began a happy dance.  He was in a better place now ... he couldn't see her dancing.

She stopped dancing, looked up suspiciously ... to see if she saw any evidence of a spirit hanging around.  She'd always heard when someone died, their spirit would be above the body ... watching!

Margaret tested the air above the corpse with her hand ... just to be safe ... felt nothing.  She broke out into another happy dance ... to the tune of $150,000!

Margaret took care of the funeral arrangements.  She lapped up condolences just as a cat lapped up good, cold milk.  Damn, it sure felt good.  I have done good ... my friends, family know it, too.

She didn't let anyone know about the $150,000 life insurance policy... she did let them know that she got a ... $5,000 life insurance policy.  Just enough to take care of the funeral arrangements, provided she had him cremated.  No frills, no thrills.

Margaret wanted a new car ... she would tell them that she made a down payment ... they'd never know she paid cash, owned her car.

Red cars, blue cars, convertibles ... she was looking at new cars.  She wanted a new car.  She selected a small car for $20,000.  Now, she was in business ... time to find someone to take care of.

The following Sunday Margaret was sitting 2 pews behind a gentlemen she knew from childhood. He was divorced, in bad health.  He constantly burped, even while in church.  She saw how other people would pretend not to hear him.

A light went off in Margaret's mind ... God told her ... she needed to take care of this man.  Take care of him, she would.

Margaret made it a point to be behind this man known as Charles.  She pretended to trip, fell against him.  Margaret began apologizing profusely.  "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I fell on you"!

Charles helped her get her composure ... old Margaret had made the first move.  It was paying off.  Charles was patting her, calming her down.  Margaret played it up ... her ankle was hurt.  She needed to sit down.  Guess who helped her?

Charles, though he walked on a cane ... helped her to sit down on the back pew of the church.  He sat beside her.  A smell came from him as the air moved around them.  He must have peed himself.

Margaret was disgusted at the smell, but ... God had pointed out this man to her.  She had to do what God wanted her to do.  Tears rolled down her cheeks ... tears at the nasty smell.  She didn't like filth ... didn't like it at all.  His ass was going to get cleaned!

Charles watched her ... she wasn't anything to look at.  He did have a soft heart when it came to a woman crying.  He knew she was in pain.  He felt sorry for her.  He gave her a quick, gentle hug.

Margaret felt like she was drowning in a sea of piss!  She let out a moan, he let go of her quickly.  Did I hurt you when I hugged you, he asked.  Margaret smiled a sweet, little smile nodding her head, telling him it was all right.  She knew he didn't mean to hurt her.

That was the beginning of a nine month relationship ... Margaret and Charles ... fell in love.  Margaret took care of Charles just like God wanted her to.  Charles's health began to decline.  He began getting fluid in his lungs.

Margaret took good care of Charles.  See, the whole community knew Margaret was a good woman ... a good woman just like her mother, Bertha.

All through the years, Bertha had taken care of the disabled members of the community.  Why some of them even left land, money to Bertha.  What a good woman Bertha was.  Here was her daughter, Margaret ... she was taught well.

Yes, God spoke to these women.  They were good women, pillars of the community.

God began speaking to Margaret.  He told her he needed Charles to come home soon.  Needed him in his flock to tend his sheep.  Come home, Charles, I need you.

Margaret began neglecting giving Charles his medicine.  He never knew the difference.  He never knew his death would mean another $150,000 to Margaret.  She cared for him until the morning she found him asleep in death.

She stood in the doorway, smiled at him.  Why Charles you look so good in death!  I didn't know you were so handsome!  All the years had fell from Charles's face ...

Margaret walked over to him, kissed him on the lips.  Old Charles didn't smell like piss now, he smelled like he had shit himself ... Margaret backed up in disgust.

Damn it ... when she met him, he smelled like piss ... she cleaned his ass up ... and just when he left the world, he had to leave the smell of shit behind!  For her ... to clean up!  Was he leaving her a message?

Regardless ... Margaret was now $150,000 richer.  She had earned it by doing God's work.  All she had to do now was ... to get funeral arrangements made for Charles.

The community gathered around Margaret.  She had shoulders to cry on ... good foods to eat ... people slipped money to her.  Why old Margaret was a good woman.  She cared for people no one else wanted to care for.  Yes, what a good woman Margaret was.

Months went by ... fall time came.  Margaret lived by herself.  She was tired of taking care of others ... she was tired of the nasty smells ... the unpleasant sounds.

God was telling Margaret that she needed to find someone else to take care of.  No!  Margaret was tired of taking care of others ... she wanted to be taken care of.

Margaret was having too much fun spending money, traveling.  She was leading a secret life.  No one had any idea that Margaret was other than she ... looked.

A simple, country girl ... yeah, once in a while someone would take a second look at Margaret when she spoke ... they went on to forget that for a moment they'd picked up on Margaret ... on how smart Margaret was.

All they had to do to forget ... was to look at her ... no, Margaret was just a simple person.  A good person just like old Bertha, her mother.

One day while out shopping, Margaret came across a disabled man in a wheelchair.  He was sitting in front of Walmart, smoking a cigarette.  One could tell looking at him that he didn't have anyone to care about him.  His clothes had stains, his hair was in disarray.

Margaret stopped a few feet from him, pretending she didn't see him.  God was poking her ... telling her this was the man.  He told her he wanted her to take care of this man ... he wouldn't make her do it long because he needed him in his flock.

Dollar signs appeared in Margaret's mind ... she saw herself doing a happy dance to the tune of big money.  She began to smile ... she knew she had work to do.  God needed her to help his chosen to come home.  Margaret was a good woman ... it was time once again to do what God wanted her to do.

Margaret walked up to the disabled man sitting in his wheelchair.  The man looked at her, blew a smoke ring.  He saw a simple, sweet-looking country woman walking toward him.

He smiled when she spoke to him ... just for a second he looked closer at her ... something about her voice didn't ... then, his eyes were drawn to her sweet country girl face.

They were attracted to each other instantly.  Over a short time, they knew they were meant for each other.

John was happy he had met Margaret.  His life had changed ... he felt like he was going to Heaven. Maybe he was already in Heaven.  He felt God smile down on him.  He saw Margaret smiling at him. He smiled ...

In fact, that was the last thing John saw.

Note by this author:  Photos/ and this fictional story are both owned, written by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

Friday, May 22, 2015

Why Are Some People Narcissistic?

Why Are Some People Narcissistic?
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

'Nar.cis.sis.tic ... having an excessive or erotic interest in oneself and one's physical appearance.'

Almost everyone has some narcissistic traits.  I copied the definition of narcissistic online at .  The definition goes on to explain more in depth about narcissism ... it's complex.

Do you have a narcissistic trait?  I bet you have one ... or two.  I'm ashamed ... no, not ashamed ... to say I did as a younger woman.

Let me give you a little history of how that came to be ... with me.  No one is the same.  I was a 'good' narcissistic ... meaning I didn't take advantage of others to get what I wanted such as men, material things ... etc.  I didn't let what I thought of myself hurt anyone.  I was just so happy to ... be me.

That doesn't look right. I don't want that to show.  I almost let people see this!  Oh God, I did let people see this!  They'll know I'm not ... perfect!  Woe is me!  I've got to make this look ... perfect!

I turn this way, that way in the mirror.  Oh God, how beautiful I am, I'm so thankful to finally be beautiful!  I can't believe how pretty I've become!

Touching my face, my body ... perfect ... perfect enough for me to feel happiness.  Starving, doing without food ... constantly exercising ... it feels wonderful to be ... beautiful.  After all, isn't that what life's about?  I'm a person ... I'm somebody!  I'm ... beautiful!

I wish there was a 'Delete' button in every aspect of our life so we could delete anything we didn't want in our life.  I don't mean to kill or harm anything ... but, just send it along its way to someone who wants it in their life.

There was a time I used to be narcissistic in my life.  It's true.  I grew up to look like I wished to ... 'beautiful like my mother'.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

I loved me, I pure-loved to be photographed, I loved to dress my body.  I knew I looked beautiful in most anything.

It was all about me in my world ... but, I didn't forget to do good things along the way.  I cared, loved people at the same time.

I had a big Heart.  My 'best friend' was jealous of me ... I was blinded to that ... I loved her dearly.  One day my mother pulled me aside to make me aware ...

You can't have a best friend who is real, when ... you are 'beautiful'.  In my world, you couldn't.  They become jealous, resentful ... and want everything you have.  My best friend even tried to take my mother by talking bad about me.  My mother knew.

I dressed my body in the most beautiful clothes.  It's true ... I was like that.  I wasn't 'bad' because I was like this.  I should have been ... no, I shouldn't have been.

(There's a little Gloria Devil sitting on my left shoulder saying I should have been.  The little Gloria Devil is the one who loves to kick ass, pay someone back and not be nice about it ... it's a good thing I try never to listen to her :)

I try to listen to the Gloria Angel on my right shoulder.  When I don't, I'm not happy.  Sometimes ...

Women hated me, men loved me.  The strange thing is ... women didn't have to hate me.  Jealousy made them hate me ... they automatically thought I would 'go after their man'.  They ... automatically ... thought wrong.  But ... you couldn't tell them that.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

You couldn't tell them I wasn't like that.  You couldn't tell them that I grew up where all the women were beautiful ... and wild.  They didn't mind going with another woman's husband, boyfriend.  I saw a lot of grief in my young life ... you couldn't tell them I didn't want to be like that.  Beautiful, yes ... but, not in a bad way.

I made a mistake once ... my 'best'friend and husband lied to me about one of their friends.  They said he wasn't married, the man said he wasn't married.  I dated him ... later found out he was married.

I will never forget the hurt I unintentionally caused that lady.  I told her ... myself.  I knew how it felt, I had experienced such as a young, married girl.  I cried for her ... I was lied to.

I know my 'best' friend loved it.  She liked setting people up to see what happened.  That must have given her immense pleasure.  I didn't cause her grief, I minded my business.  I could have destroyed her marriage, life.  I went my own way.

You couldn't tell every woman ... 'hey, I'm not interested in your life, your husband, boyfriend'.  They already made their minds up on my appearance.  Too pretty, too beautiful ... she's got to be bad.  Well, I can understand that way of thinking.

I came from a family where one did have to worry when they met up with beautiful women in my family.  They weren't always honest, sincere ... faithful.  It's the truth no matter which way you look at it.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

Beautiful women ... men ... dangerous combination.  No matter whose man ... life is like that ... deal with it.  I know you don't like it, neither do I ... life is like that.  Nature ... animals ... summertime ... everything comes alive.  Life is like that.

The beautiful women in my family ... were/are the best friends you didn't want to have.  Sad, but true.  Deceit, always something hidden in ways no one saw. Oh my wonderful, loyal friend ... no one needs a friend like this.  Stick with your enemies ... at least they let you know up front how they really are.

Expressions, touch ... you get my drift. Secrets ... everything's a secret ... more secrets.  Sh-hhh-hh don't tell this, don't tell that.  Blackmail was one of the games played when I was a little girl.  May the best man win ... oh ... no, may the best woman win! It was played just as often as Scrabble, Monopoly was being played in every home.

If one of the women got pissed off ... they would begin to blackmail the other.  I'm going to tell this, that ... if you don't give in to my demands!  They were my role models ... a lot of the children's role models at my Grandma Alma's home where we were thrown to, while the mothers just took off to come back ... months later.

I can 'see' it, I know what to see, look for, listen for ... I know all the tricks.  I don't let anyone know that I do ... I just smile, go on.  I've been there, done that ... seen that, felt the grief from having it done to me.  I don't play games with anyone ... they hurt, destroy.  When I take action, I just simply mean it, once and for all.  I don't play games.

I could have ... caused a lot of grief in a lot of women's lives.  As much as I 'hated' women growing up ... it's a wonder I didn't try to pay 'all women' back for all I suffered growing up ... from a woman's hand.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee  (Photo of me in blue is damaged by fire... black spots on face)  ... my beautiful mother in white blouse on left.  Daisy Earlene Strother ...

No one knew that growing up ... I watched, listened, suffered from things 'women did' because of deceit, lies, ugliness ... all stemming from ... beauty.  They made me lie, hide things ... be a part of things as a little girl. I didn't want to be a part of it.

All I wanted to do ... was be a little girl.  I didn't want to be in the ... grown up world.  Pure Hell ... always hell-raising.  At any moment, hell would break loose.  This little girl was always in the middle of it ... no choice.

If the women weren't making my life Hell ... there was always a man's hand ... somewhere ... ready to reach out to help take my innocence away.  Men who were 'somebody' ... in the family, out of the family.  Everyone looked up to these men ... I did too, a little innocent girl who ... had no choice.  No choice, no words to describe why I cried, hurt.

I grew up with a fear when a man's hand reached out to me, until I understood not every man meant 'bad'.  I prefer men over women any day.  They are usually more honest, straightforward ... like me.

Women on the other hand ... I didn't grow up to learn they were all good, wonderful, trusting people. Women ... are different.  There are only a few women I truly respect, love and care about.  That means they are for-real good people ... I can count them on my hand.

I'm amazed by them because they are for-real good people ... unique people.  They've been good to me when they didn't have to ... cared when they didn't have to.  Cared while I never knew.  They are in my Heart always.

I haven't always known such caring from ... women. Some of these women aren't even from this country ... they've touched my very soul, my Heart at the deepest.  I love them.  In my whole life, only my grandmothers were like them, to me.  They've been gone many years.

I began telling you about narcissism ... my narcissism as a young woman.  Maybe this can explain just enough 'why' beauty meant so much to me, then.  I learned at an early age that I wanted to be beautiful ... beauty meant power.  It does in today's time.  Whether you or me ... like it or not ... beauty means power.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee ... and Stafford, my Rottie ...

Power to me meant I didn't have to let anyone bully me, run over me, push over me.  I was ... 'beautiful enough' ... people respected me.  When I walked into a room ... I became the focus.  I was beautiful 'enough' to keep people from hurting me.

No matter I was a good person, faithful, not deceitful ... a real person ... when I appeared ... women saw me as a threat.  I look back now ... some of those women would have deserved it ... if I had been.  Too bad I wasn't a wicked female ...

Just maybe ... that's ... why ... the beautiful women in my family caused other women such grief.  Because some of them deserved it. I just didn't have the desire to because ...

I learned to love myself ... my body.  I was kicked around as a child, slapped, beaten, thrown ... because I was my father's child. I knew how pain felt from losing everything as a child, everyone angry wanting to slap, knock me around.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

I always knew that everything good was meant for other kids ... no point in me thinking about it ... when I heard, read something good about kids ... I knew it didn't mean me.  I accepted that as a little girl.  No, it didn't mean me.

I knew something so special to other little girls like a Barbie doll ... wasn't something I would ever have.  Something as special as being in the Girl Scouts wasn't meant for me to be in.  I wasn't good enough.  All the wonderful children's movies at the theater ... no, it wasn't meant for me.  I was nobody.

I was my father's child, that was for sure.  Who in the hell was this man who was called my father ... who caused me such grief as a little girl?  Why was I slapped in the face when a certain expression crossed it?

Anger, screaming words came at me like shooting a pistol non-stop ...  'you look like your damned father'!  The all-powerful slap came next ... I was lucky if I wasn't thrown around, slapped.

One aunt in particular beat me unmerciful ... to the extent of picking up a piece of firewood, beating me until blood ran on my arms, legs.  She hurt me really bad, physically ... mentally.  I had loved her with my very Heart.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

Her long fingernails scratched my face, got caught in my curly hair.  Sweat, anger, fire ... blind, stunned, shocked at being thrown around hitting furniture ... odor of blood like smelling pennies.  Hell breaking loose ... I was a rag doll in her hands.  I wasn't big enough to fight back.

That was once of the worse beatings I ever had ... she tried to blackmail me with a little Timex watch.  She thought as a little girl I would gladly take her damn watch ... never let my mother know what she did to me.  My mother tore into her at a later date ... it was bad.

Why did she do that to me?  She was an angry teenage girl ... I peeped into her wonderful bedroom ... it held a record player ... music!  Wonderful music!  I paid for that.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee and Skip

I wasn't the only grandchild who was fascinated by her bedroom ... the record player, records!  Music!  I know she screamed at them, I don't think she beat the other children who were my cousins ... they had their mother ... they all lived next door. Their mother would have kicked her ass ... being her older sister, also.

My mother took off and was gone for months ... it was what she did as a young woman.  It left me to the mercy of all those around me ... no protection for a little girl.

So, when I became a beautiful young lady ... would you believe I didn't know it?  I was living in another home of Hell ... my father's home.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee ... with my father, whom I never met until the age of  9.  I look at this photo ... he seemed so proud, happy to see me. I never saw that expression before or after this photo.  This photo stands out to me ... how amazing.

His home was a wonderful home, spotless clean (oh, how I loved that!), laughter, joking ... fun. Everybody's feelings were important.  The only thing was ... I wasn't a part of it.  I was resented.  My father was afraid of me ... he couldn't talk to me.

There wasn't any place for me as a child to know calm, peace, quiet.  I never felt good about me.  I hated myself, and several times I did try to die.  Hell from every direction.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

When I ran away from my father's home ... I began to realize how pretty I had become.  My father, living in his home ... had numbed me to myself.

I lived in a wonderful home ... I was the only un-wonderful thing there ... I was my beautiful mother's child.  I truly wasn't wanted.  I won't go into all of that.  I give you credit for that wonderful imagination we all have.

Boys whistled at me ... I remember the first time.  I turned to look at who was being whistled at.  I didn't see anyone.  Do you know what I did?  I just looked down, went on doing what I was doing ... I knew they weren't whistling at me.  I was nobody.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

My mother made me aware at how beautiful I was.  She was so proud of me!  She let me wear her clothes ... I was amazed when they fit me ... perfectly!  She was so beautiful, small with a perfect figure!

Oh my!  When she made me put on something of hers to show me I could wear them ... that was all it took!  My eyes began opening ... I had wanted to be a fashion designer ... why ... I had my own body to dress now!  I was beautiful!

Can you even imagine a young girl discovering she was what she wished to be ... blind to the fact she was long before she realized it?

Getting back to narcissism ... I was to a degree.  Just enough that in my mind, I didn't have to 'take any s___' from anyone.  People just don't treat beautiful people ... ugly.  They don't.  Think about it.

When I dressed my body, walked and talked with confidence ... I won't even begin to describe how wonderful life was, how special I was treated.  I loved myself ... why I was perfect ... perfect for myself to be happy with.  I finally loved myself, until ...

I eloped to get married.  Fourteen years of marriage ... a young girl isolated in the grown up world ... left alone.  Alone ... while her husband took off to be with other women.

His friends came around to 'see him' ... knowing he was gone.  I became afraid again ... no one was around to protect me ... I was 14 miles either way from any town.  I had grown up in town ... there were night lights, traffic, people.  There was only the deep, pitch-black darkness at nights in the countryside ... strange sounds.

I became most unhappy, angry, afraid.  I wasn't anybody again.  Just some wife sitting home waiting for a husband who couldn't be faithful.  I gained weight ... never realizing it.  No one treated me the same anymore ... the weight hid the beauty I had.  I was still pretty, but ... I didn't know it anymore.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

His friends did ... they kept stopping by making me afraid.  They would stare at me, make comments ... I should have taken them up ... but, I wasn't like that.

I couldn't cheat.  I should have done that, too.  I didn't.  I should have paid the women back in my young life, and cheated like Hell ... something in me ... I couldn't do it.  I thought about it.  If I'd been like my family ... I would have been 'bad' to the bone, and some asses ... would have been fixed.  I wasn't like them ... what went wrong ... right?

I'm still at an age that I wonder about being good as possible.  It seems life is very good for bad, dishonest, deceitful people.  They don't lack for anything ... they don't have to worry.  The world is at their fingertips.  They don't have to go without ... they can do bad, and have everything they need.

    Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

Sometimes, I tell Skip that being bad ... is good.  I really don't mean that when I say such.  It's that we've been through so many things in our older years ... we've always tried to be good people, make up for any mistakes we have made through the years.

We aren't going to change ... being good is being good ... and we can live with that good feeling inside.  That's what making mistakes is all about ... going from them to be the best person you can be.  Learn from your mistakes.

When I came out of that marriage ... I became like a swan ... beauty came back.  I could smile at the world, I was my own person ... everyone loved me again.

Narcissistic ... how other people became that way, I don't know.  I know why I was like that.  I had finally come to love myself, feel like 'somebody'.  We all have 'things' in us from childhood.  That was one of mine.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

I didn't think I was better than anyone ... how could I have been better?  I didn't come from people known as better people.  I didn't think I was more beautiful than anyone ... but, I was beautiful enough for me to like myself, be happy each day to wear beautiful clothes.  It meant the world to finally like, love myself.

I think being narcissistic in my case is/was different ... from the people who 'have it bad' :)  Mine was more innocent in a way to just measure up, compare with the beautiful women in our family.  I did ... no doubt.  I am a ... has-been ... but, the fact is ... I was.  My photos validate it.  I am proud of them.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

I'm thankful the photos survived the house fire.  Now, I leave them in cyberspace for my grandchildren to see for themselves one day.  I probably won't ever see them in this life.  They can be proud their grandmother was at least somebody ... to look at.  :)

 Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee 

This is my take on ... narcissism in my life.  There was a time I was narcissistic.  This is ... why.  Why are other people narcissistic?  Why are you?  What shaped you to be in your life?

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee with All My Children star...

'Nar.cis.sis.tic ... having an excessive or erotic interest in oneself and one's physical appearance.'

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee with All My Children star

Note by this Author:

All photos/true story are owned, written by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.  I used to be narcissistic ... in a good way.  I was so happy to just be beautiful like the women in my family.  It meant people treated me good, always making over me.  It meant the world to me.