Born 1973. New Jersey.
ONLY CHILD. Italian.
#METOO moment at 13. First child at 19
Married at 28, Widowed at 40.
A girl with no formal training but a lot to say and a creative mind. Began writing at age forty while going through the best and worst of times. Spent a year posting in a few Facebook poetry groups. Then I joined Rhymer's Block, an app designed for writing rap and poetry with a colorful community. There I became known as kittycity. I held the title of most respected on the block for some time. Now I am working to build my presence on Instagram. My handle is taranicolewrites if you would like to follow me.
No Fear. Open and Vulnerable.
Sexually Explicit Content To Be Expected.
Captivating. Engaging. Relatable. Sarcastic.
Specializing in Fantasy and Descriptive Story Telling.
I am going to guess it was September 2013. I was just turning forty, my marriage was a disaster and I was in the midst of reading the Fifty Shades series. This man I did not know personally invited me to his Facebook poetry group. I had never written before so I thought it odd. I decided to write something and post it. The few pieces I initially wrote were influenced heavily by the relationship between Anastasia and Christian. The idea of being desired, owned, submissive...It started an immediate love of writing and manipulating readers with words. I had caught the attention of this man and we began to speak privately. The connection was fast and it was intense. We met for lunch a few times. I loved how he made me feel. It was something I never had with my husband. He told me he loved me, he said I was beautiful, used terms of endearment. It was butterflies and wanting. All things my marriage lacked. I had never felt so sexy, so alive. It became clear that my attention was focused on my phone and computer. So when my husband asked, I didn't lie. I told him I met someone. He became enraged and things got physical. He hit me several times. Then turned apologetic and loving. I pretended to forgive and we had sex that night. I have never felt so violated. I couldn't wait for it to end. I knew it was the only way to be safe. That next night he did not come home for dinner. When he finally showed up, he was behaving aggressively, pacing and just full of anger. When he punched a hole through the door and started to break things I quickly got my kids in the car and left. I drove directly to the police station and filed a restraining order. They found him and took him into custody. The next few weeks I began writing about all that was going on and it became what ultimately saved my life. The Friday prior to our court date, my husband broke into the house and hid in the basement. He sent me text messages and I immediately called the police to report it. While I was speaking to the officer he came rushing up the steps to confront me. I had thought about scenarios just like this and had written it out in poetry. It was how I had mentally prepared myself. I knew he would either kill me or put himself in a situation where the police would have to kill him. I had been with this man for 25 years, no one knew him like I did. Instead of harming me, he stabbed himself in the chest. I knew I needed to get outside, that remaining inside the house I would be in danger of this becoming a hostage situation. While outside he stabbed himself again. When the police arrived they directed him over and over to put down the knife and when he threw it at them they fired three shots. He was rushed to the hospital were they attempted to save him, but hours later I received the news he didn't make it. It's difficult to explain the relief that was felt, because for me this was the end of a relationship that had no other means of escape. I had loved him and taken care of all his needs for so long while mine went ignored. At the end I was exhausted and completely depleted of any feelings towards him. So there has been little grieving. I only feel guilt for not caring, for being able to pick up and move on so quickly. Writing became even more important to me and is now where I feel most comfortable with myself. While married my role in life was to take care of him, to be the strong one, to be his cheerleader. I never took the time to find out what I liked or what talents I possessed. I always took on other people's interests so I could be supportive and show I cared. Writing is what I love. It is where I have finally found my confidence, my voice.