Just Jaynie

Windows to the soul 🩵

Oh my fncksickle that looks so good... except for the weird and absolutely obvious face that decided to show up 👀

In a layering moment, I shall dub thee Potato Lasagna, and any man who doth question it in the comments shall be ratioed most grievously, his memes mocked, his hot takes left to cool upon the keyboard of oblivion. 😂 That's my story and I'm sticking to it 😏

Good Morning Sunshines 🌷 Whatever today has in store for you, I hope there's a little something in it that makes your heart happy.

Some things in life just get sweeter when you turn up the heat. 🍅🧅🔥

Good Morning 💙

Pretty damn stupid to put my wine glass right next to the paint brush water, but it would seem stupidity is my speciality 😂 Cheers to that! 😎🍷

Spending some time in one of my happy places.

Old is gold 🧡🔥🧡 youtu.be/GC5E8ie2pdM?si=u7dy…

Grateful.

Old is gold 🔥 youtu.be/tAGnKpE4NCI?si=DzVq…

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NEVER underestimate the satisfaction of a hot potato sandwich with butter, salt and pepper. 👌

Are We Progressing or Regressing? Because I'm Starting to Have Questions. I got home at about 4.30pm this afternoon, having spent a good portion of the day running around like a blue arsed fly. Taking my son to soccer. Deliveries. Collections. Drop-offs. Errands. Driving from one place to another, remembering something I had forgotten at the previous place, and generally keeping the wheels of domestic civilisation turning. Not to mention that this entire set of proceedings began with my son having to change a flat tyre (twice) before we could even leave the house, lol. How were we supposed to know that the spare tyre had an entirely different (shorter) set of bolts/nuts to the original wheel, which were just lying in the boot laughing at us as we went about our business. Needless to say, son got an extra arm and leg work out and then, in addition to being late for his soccer match, twisted his ankle during play. Not a happy camper, eeek! By the time I got home, I was finished with the public. Unfortunately, the public wasn't quite finished with me. I still had customers coming to collect their freshly baked sourdough loaves, which meant I had to remain available, presentable and willing to answer the door. Three things I rapidly lose interest in after having been “worldly” for an entire 3+ hours. Do not get me wrong… I love my customers. They are all fabulous people, and I am enormously grateful for every loaf they buy. But this evening, I was watching the clock with the sort of intensity normally reserved for bomb disposal experts. Because I had plans. Big plans. Much needed plans, DAMN!T! I was going to close the door, have a deliciously hot shower, wash off the noise of the day, put on my pyjamas and become completely unavailable to civilisation as a whole. The anticipation was borderline indecent, but I got there, eventually and sticking my feet into slippers felt like nothing less than heaven on earth, truly! As I got myself into my comfort zone, I had a giggle to myself about how much things change as you get older. At what point in our lives do all the things we once considered punishment become our greatest pleasures? Seriously?! When I was a child, being told to go and bath was an outrage. A totally inconvenient interruption to whatever vitally important activity I was engaged in, which was probably digging a hole in the garden with a teaspoon or attempting to convince a beetle to become my pet - no matter! Bath time was an administrative oppression imposed by unreasonable adults. And bedtime? Well…. That sh!t was practically a human rights violation. There was an entire world happening out there, and I was expected to lie in a dark room and MISS IT? Absolutely not. Pfffff! I would need water. Then the toilet. Then more water. Then I would suddenly remember a deeply important question about “My little Pony” or why the moon followed our car. Anything to delay the inevitable. Fast-forward a few decades. Now, if somebody told me at 7pm that I absolutely HAD to take a hot shower and go straight to bed, I would probably ask whether they were available for marriage. No flowers necessary. Just enforce the bedtime, lol! And the changes don't stop there. Remember when staying home on a Friday night meant your social life was in a state of catastrophic decline? When you desperately wanted somebody to phone and invite you somewhere? Nowadays, an invitation arriving after I have already mentally committed to staying home feels like a minor emotional crisis I would rather not have! I have to assess it. What time? How many people? Will there be chairs? Is parking going to be difficult? How late is this likely to go on? And, most importantly, is there a socially acceptable way to decline without having to invent a medical condition? Because if I was honest, I already have a very promising evening planned with a pair of pyjama bottoms that have never once disappointed me. And what about visitors? As children, we were beside ourselves with excitement when somebody came to the house. People! Conversation! Possibilities! Perhaps biscuits! Now, an unexpected knock at the door after dark can cause an entire household to fall silent. Nobody moves. We exchange suspicious glances. Did you invite someone? No. Did YOU? Then why is there a person outside? Even the dog, who normally considers every passing leaf a matter requiring immediate public announcement, is expected to observe radio silence. And here's another one. Remember when somebody cancelling plans was a devastating rejection? Now, depending on the circumstances, it feels a LOT more like winning the fncking lottery! "Oh, that's such a pity!" Meanwhile, somewhere deep inside, a mini brass band has started playing. I'm not proud of it. Well, perhaps juuust a little, lol! Last but not least, let us dive into the evolution of our relationship with sleep, haha! As teenagers, we could stay awake until four in the morning, get up at eight, eat something dodgy AF and carry on with our lives. Now, one slightly disturbed night's sleep can have me questioning every major decision I have made since 1997. I find myself discussing pillows with the enthusiasm I once reserved for good looking men. Firmness. Neck support. Breathability. Gaawd, lol! Who have I become? When we are young, we associate freedom with being allowed to do absolutely anything. Stay out late. Go wherever we want. See whoever we please. Eat ice cream for breakfast. Nobody telling us when to go to bed. Then we spend years working towards that freedom. And once we finally attain it, what do we do? Hehe…. We voluntarily establish bedtimes. We get excited about clean sheets and kitchen towels with cool fabrics (don’t judge!) We buy vegetables. We complain about noise. We make plans to have no plans. And we experience genuine happiness when somebody says, "You don't have to come if you don't feel like it." It is such a fascinating reversal. We have spent our ENTIRE lives trying to escape the rules of childhood, only to recreate most of them ourselves. Though… now we call it self-care. I don't think it's necessarily that we have become boring, we have simply developed a much better understanding of what things actually cost. Not financially. In energy. An evening out isn't just an evening out anymore. It's getting ready, driving, making conversation, staying awake, coming home, and possibly sacrificing the following morning to the recovery process. Whereas a hot shower and an evening in your pyjamas? Very little admin involved and an excellent return on investment. You no longer need an event to feel as though you have had a good evening. Peace becomes something you actively look forward to. Being comfortable in your own company is no longer confused with having nowhere else to be. So, are we progressing or regressing as we get older? I reckon we are progressing rather nicely, actually. We have simply reached an age where we understand that freedom isn't necessarily about being able to go wherever we want, whenever we want. It is being able to stay exactly where we are, with absolutely nobody expecting us to put on a bra, find our car keys or make polite conversation. What is something you absolutely DETESTED as a child that you now consider one of life's greatest luxuries? Or something you once thought was terribly exciting that now sounds like an exhausting amount of unnecessary effort? I cannot possibly be the only one who has gone from fighting bedtime to actively looking forward to it. ......................... Welcome to “The Gemini Diaries” The stories are real. The photographs took liberties. I'm Jaynie, single mom and independent South African creative. These stories, my art and the content I share are part of how I earn my living. If my work speaks to you, please consider supporting any one of my many creative endeavors here: linktr.ee/justjaynie Your support helps me continue creating independently whilst sustaining our home and life behind the work. Every contribution genuinely matters. And if contributing isn't possible, a follow, comment or share helps my work reach more people. Thank you for being part of my creative journey. 💛

Simple. Tasty. Hot. 🌶️🔥

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Good Morning ☕️🌿☀️ Hope everyone has a beautiful day 🫶

I have been thinking about something quite a bit lately. It has been on loop in my mind, for several reasons. How much of the person we become is actually the person we chose to be? And how much is simply a collection of behaviours we developed when we were far too young to understand what we were adapting to? It is a pretty uncomfortable question actually. Particularly when you've spent most of your adult life congratulating yourself on being strong, independent, resilient and remarkably good at dealing with difficult situations. Because what if some of those qualities weren't originally strengths at all? What if they were just survival strategies?! And what if, decades later, you are still using them long after the circumstances that made them necessary have changed? Think about it. A child who grows up in an unpredictable environment learns to pay acute attention, an almost unnecessary amount… in fact, I have frequently read that “empaths are not born, they are made” and THAT, makes complete sense to me. They are shaped by their childhood need to be hyper vigilant in order to protect themselves and their peace. I am talking about recognising somebody's mood by the sound of their footsteps. Knowing whether it's safe to speak by the way a door closes. Being able to detect the smallest change in somebody's expression before they have even said a word. That child becomes very good at reading people. Fast-forward thirty years, and everybody marvels at how perceptive they are. Intuitive. Empathetic. Emotionally intelligent. Perhaps all correct, but perhaps also exhausted because they have spent their entire life monitoring everybody else's emotional temperature. What looks like intuition in adulthood may have begun as vigilance in childhood. And there's a difference between understanding people and feeling responsible for anticipating every possible reaction they might have. Then there's the child who learns not to need anything and oooh my gaaawd is that me. Asking for help was generally met with irritation. The adults were more often than not too overwhelmed with their own problems. Being vulnerable did not make you feel safe. So the child adapts. Stops asking. Figures things out themselves. Becomes resourceful, capable and fiercely independent. And everybody praises them for it. What a strong little girl. What a mature child. What an absolute pleasure. Never any trouble. Except nobody thinks to ask why a child has become so extraordinarily good at having no needs. Years later, that same child is an adult who would rather attempt major household renovations with a butter knife than admit they need assistance. They can run businesses, raise children, solve problems, manage crises and keep an entire household functioning. But accepting help? Good Lord. Let's not get carried away. I recognise the parts of that individual so very well. And then there's the peacemaker. The child who discovers that keeping everybody happy makes life more manageable. Don't argue. Don't upset anyone. Be helpful. Be agreeable. Make yourself useful. Learn what people need before they ask. And whatever you do, don't become the reason somebody loses their temper. That child often grows into an adult who struggles to say no, apologises for things have not even done and feels physically uncomfortable when somebody is disappointed in them. They call themselves considerate. Other people call them lovely. Meanwhile, their own needs have been waiting patiently in the reception area for approximately forty years. One of the most complicated adaptations of all is the child who learns to associate love with responsibility. The one who becomes the fixer. The rescuer. The person who sees somebody struggling and immediately feels compelled to help. Not because they are kind, although they may be extraordinarily kind. Because they have learnt that love meant managing somebody else's pain. That being needed was a way of being valued. That if they could just understand somebody well enough, forgive enough, give enough, tolerate enough, perhaps everything would eventually be all right. I have some fairly expensive personal experience in this department too. And I have to come to realise that understanding why somebody behaves badly can become a dangerous substitute for acknowledging that they're behaving badly. You can spend so much time examining the wounds behind somebody's behaviour that you forget to look at the wounds their behaviour is leaving on you. That's not compassion working particularly well. That's compassion operating without adequate supervision. And where the psychology becomes particularly interesting. These patterns can become so familiar that we mistake them for our personalities. We say things like: "I'm just very independent." "I'm naturally a people pleaser." "I've always been the responsible one." "I don't like confrontation." "I tend to attract complicated people." "This is just how I am." But is it? Or is it how you learnt to be? There is a concept in psychology called adaptation. Our minds and bodies adjust to the environments in which we develop. Under difficult circumstances, certain responses can become especially useful. Avoiding conflict might keep a child out of trouble. Being hyperaware might help them anticipate danger. Suppressing emotion might allow them to function when expressing it feels unsafe. Taking responsibility for everybody else might create a small sense of control in a world where they have very little. None of these responses is inherently ridiculous or weak. In the circumstances in which they developed, they may have made perfect sense. The problem is that a strategy can outlive the situation it was designed to manage. And adulthood has a habit of presenting us with familiar emotional circumstances wearing completely different clothes. A disagreement with a partner feels disproportionately threatening. Somebody else's disappointment feels like personal failure. A peaceful relationship feels strangely unfamiliar. You find yourself explaining away behaviour you would never advise somebody else to tolerate. Or you keep working long after you're exhausted because somewhere deep inside you, being useful still feels safer than simply being loved. Not everyone who experienced a difficult childhood develops these patterns. And not every adult habit can be traced back to childhood. Human beings are far more complicated than that. But I do think it is worth examining the possibility. Realising that you may have spent decades organising your adult life around rules nobody has actually asked you to follow anymore. Rules you didn't consciously agree to in the first place and the fact that some of these adaptations have served us exceptionally well, may all be big pills to swallow. My independence has helped me build a life. My resilience has carried me through circumstances I wouldn't wish on anybody. My ability to recognise pain in others has made me compassionate. I don't want to throw those qualities away. But I am beginning to question whether every strength needs to remain switched on at full capacity. Whether I can be independent without refusing support. Compassionate without becoming responsible for somebody else's choices. Understanding without endlessly excusing. Resilient without continually volunteering to endure more. And whether I can finally stop confusing the ability to survive something with a good reason to remain in it. I think that some of the most important work involves examining the things we learnt before we were old enough to question them. The rules we inherited. The responsibilities we assumed. The dangers we anticipated. The ways we made ourselves smaller, quieter, tougher or more useful because, at the time, that seemed like the safest way to exist. And then asking ourselves a question that is almost embarrassingly simple. Does this still serve me? Not whether it once did. Not whether it helped me survive. Not whether other people have come to depend on it. Does it serve the person I am today? That child may have done an extraordinary job of getting us through some very difficult years. But they were a child. They had limited choices, limited understanding and very little control over the world around them. They did what they could with what they had. And I think they deserve an enormous amount of credit for that. What they don't deserve is to spend the rest of their life being held responsible for keeping everybody safe. Especially when the adult they have become is finally in a position to make different choices. You can be grateful for the ways you learnt to survive without allowing them to dictate how you live. Not becoming somebody entirely different. Just recognising which parts of yourself are still responding to a world that no longer exists. And deciding, at long bloody last, that the grown-up gets the final say!! ......................... Welcome to “The Gemini Diaries” The stories are real. The photographs took liberties. I'm Jaynie, an independent South African writer and creative. These stories, my art and the content I share are part of how I earn my living. If my work speaks to you, please consider supporting any one of my many creative endeavors here: linktr.ee/justjaynie Your support helps me continue creating independently and sustaining our home and life behind the work. Every contribution genuinely matters. And if contributing isn't possible, a follow or share helps my work reach more people. Thank you for being part of the story. 💛 Much love & gratitude just jaynie

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