Welcome to more than my Mid Wife Crisis — welcome to my Revolution!

I’m Kristina Raines, your Runaway Ruca! I recently paroled after serving 17 years suffocating in the stranglehold of suburbia and serving a Wife Sentence. Not that there’s anything wrong with suburbia but those Marry Tales aren’t for everyone. And frankly, I’m a dismal failure at the Game of Wife.

“Ruca” — Mexican slang for “Old Lady.” Not considering such a situation! I’m off and funning on my Ruca Revolution. No more rolling the rice for this Ruca. Adventure awaits!

I concluded that although I earned my PhD in the Game of Psych, I scored a definite PhD Minus in the Game of Wife. My bad? Who cares? It’s all well and done.

It’s time. After escaping from Spouse Arrest, please allow me to share my experiences, adventures and most of all, wicked sense of humor (you’ve just gotta have one, don’t you?) and hopefully, inspire you to live your dreams, however you choose.They’re you dreams and your dreams are a destination without limits.

 

Part One: Welcome To My Mid Wife Crisis!

So here I am — two years post parole and still orbiting Pluto without an address. No kidding. Until I was forced to buy a car, I didn’t even own a set of keys. Am I sorry? I can’t say I lost everything because the truth was I’d given it away. It was more than my pleasure. Possessions own you — you don’t own them.

There was a time when I honestly wondered if and when it was all going to end— sometimes you just have to know when to fold em and do so amicably and affably .If it makes any sense, is it possible to have a ton of interests in common with someone but simply not get along? After the date, mate and cohabitate, sometimes you have to manage the hand of fate.

This was my issue.

And I was so sick and tired of the same inner debate — what I called Debate Fate. After I realized it was Time to Extinguish that Inner Liar, I confronted my Fibliography: The Bitter Battle With My Thinner Child and Honest to Bod? That Thinner Child, Conversations with Bod and those Thighs, Lies and Alibis! Do girth defects really exist? And if so, do they start in the thighs? Do they escalate to the heart valve and invade the third chakra? I can’t help but wonder about the thunder and blunder….There must be a route to self acceptance in lieu of continual self repentance. I can’t spend my life trying to lose the lard ware and the surfeit of adipose tissue cascading down my gut and butt and thighs, even if it’s merely my imagination. Worth control is always the better option and all will be well. Ya pasta! I mean, basta ….Maybe those Parisienne peregrinations will melt those pastries into the grounds of the Champs Elysee? On ne sais jamais….

I hereby pronounce it Time to Dethrone that Liar Power. The inner voice desperate to dismantle your Inner Winner. Forget the All You Can Defeat aspect of yourself and start to cultivate your ESP: Emotional Self Preservation. You can do it. So pour yourself some My-bations instead of Lie-bations — release the past and live for now. Do it for yourself. Start your own Revolution. No more Zen-ohpobia!

So what’s an over 50 mumble mumble year old Ruca to do?

All my life, I’d dreamed of roaming,….wandering ….experiencing faraway places, distant lands… sandy beaches, deserted deserts, metropolitan cities….everyplace, everywhere. Ever the escape artist and nomadic wandering soul, my only option was to hit the road to destination everywhere and experience life….And I’ve been orbiting Pluto ever since. It’s been a helluva an adventure and I’m grateful for every moment. A learning curve on the grand scale. And in the end, I’m grateful for the guys who tolerated me! I married two Jewish men but I never lived Jappily Ever After. Never one for Blings and One Night Flings — we’ll get to the Down With The Wedding Gown soon enough — but first, let’s define those Little Finger Nooses- for my part it was all Say it in Broken Bling-lish! Marriage is fine — for those who can manage contracts and commitments and confinement and cohabitation — for more than a fraction of a New York Nanosecond. And yes, I discovered that there really is:

LIFE AFTER WIFE~

So after retiring from the practice of cynical — that is — clinical psychology, I welcome you to a weekly Jappy Hour and have a Drink with the Shrink — sharing antidotes, experiences, fears, concerns, anything on your mind.

The Runaway Ruca is structured for women ages 40 and above — —  who feel they’ve evaporated in the confines of their time, class and generation— and realized, like the snap of a hypnotists fingers —that maybe, just maybe — there’s more life to live — for them and only for them.

Karma-geddon calling. We’re in this together. The Runaway Ruca is a support system that offers more in the way of education, enlightenment and empowerment: That women can make more of themselves than they’d expected or realized. We’re fearless. We’re empowered. We’re amazing. Our lives are waiting. All we have to do is claim it — seize it and run with it. And it’s OK to live in the moment, the unexpected and completely Zenlike — thoughts without a thinker. It’s OK to be mindless and play it by beer. It’s OK to roam, wander aimlessly — peripatetic, nomadic and insouciant. And not have to answer to anything or anybody or be somebody’s slave, chafferer or anything pertaining to their servant.  Go ahead — be irresponsible!

Save it for another Wifetime.

Just in case you feel hesitant and need a little Future Focus Pocus, our Resident Hex Therapist, Theresa the Tarot Card QUEEN is always available! She’s the best. I just love how she reads with accuracy and clarity. Some wise words of wisdom from our sagacious sage of psychic incantations. Just love that Third Eye Chakra of hers.

So what motivated me most? Necessity and  desperation? A bit of both. That and a High Speed Face Lift. An honorary graduate of a BSM—  Broke Single Mother — I decided to take fate and destiny and a Canhandle attitude and run with it — run away with it, that is. Why not. I’m faced with confronting my Bestiny.

October is an inspiring month. It should be. It’s my birth month. I was born under a full moon, my mother told me. Full moons are auspicious. And it was the month I decided to Ruca-ize my life. First to go? The Emotional Baggage.Thankfully, possessions were never a problem because I never owned anything. Except the above stated trunk of emotional treacle.

In October 2014, the first of the month, to be exact, I called it quits and retired from my practice of cynical —that is — clinical psychology. Although I loved it, it was time. I felt liberated — literally, I didn’t even own a set of keys. I’d longed for this moment since I was born. In fact, one of my therapist friends asked me what my biggest regret was….And I had to answer, which required no reflection on my part because I already knew that what I regretted the most was that I wished I’d live in more places throughout the world. And when the opportunity presented itself and I could make my great escape…. The rest is history and I’m still . First stop: South of the border to Mexico, where I’d spent time in the past, although, with all due respect to Mexico, my ideal country was Western Europe, my one true love. Anyway, because Mexico was closer and I was acquainted with loads of people and I speak Spanish and the livin’ was easy, I adjusted my magic carpet and skydived down to San Miguel de Allende.

But only for a mere month or so — barely so. Within two weeks, Western Europe beckoned and off I trotted to Toulouse, that enchanting endroit where weekend bon marches abound and the fairly tale carousel careens in the center of the village. Okay, enchanting is an understatement, agreed. In any case, two weeks there was nowhere near enough time to become acquainted with the magic and the museums and the monuments….An exhilarating experience. I even had a psychic reading there from an interesting Hex Therapist. Anyway, even Toulouse welcomes a tremendous ex pat environment. I can completely understand why.

And then there was the fascinating Czech Republic…. what a country! Prague is a crowd pleaser with more castles than Disneyland. St. Charles bridge, music festivals….this is a city for the culture seekers, peekers and weepers. Gorgeous —- make sure you take advantage of the festivals and concerts and walking walking walking….a city for wanderers. Which reminds me, I just read this inspiring book on wandering wantonly. — A Zen like experience and an always 10 like experience. More to come — join me!