One Lovely Blog Award


The One Lovely Blog Award Comes to me from An Upturned Soul

The rules are as follows:

1 – Thank the person that nominated you and give a link to their blog.

Thank you to An Upturned Soul!

  1. List the rules.
  2. Display the award on your post of the award.

  3. List seven facts about yourself.

  4. Nominate (up to) 15 bloggers for this award and comment on one of their posts to let them know you have nominated them.

Seven Facts About Rob Goldstein

I am a vegetarian

I believe that respect is earned; the quickest way to lose my respect is to demand it.

I believe that a win by cheating is the same as losing even if everyone around me thinks cheating is ok.

I believe in the Constitution of the United States and that each of us is responsible for understanding it and protecting it.

I am a Southern boy through and through.

I was raised on black-eyed peas, mashed potatoes, fried pork chops, collards and grits.

I started writing when I was eight.

Nominate (up to) 15 bloggers for this award and comment on one of their posts to let them know you have nominated them

My nominees are:

Joeyfully Stated

Dennis Cardiff


living in stigma


Erika Kind

Bubbles and Beebots

Daisy in the Willows

Br Andrew’s Muses

Bipolar for Life



Xara Nahara


A Broken Blue Sky



33 thoughts on “One Lovely Blog Award

  1. Reblogged this on Erika Kind and commented:

    Robert nominated me for the “loveliest” award on WordPress! Thank you so much, Robert!
    Robert is a fascinating person with deep thoughts and insights. I learned a lot from him. Please convince yourself.
    My nominees:

    Vonita Buirski
    Smiling Notes
    Lori Carlson
    Sarah of Sarah’s Attic of Treasures

    In Love and Light


  2. My congratulations to this lovely award, Robert! I can only agree that you truly are a lovely being and I am happy that we met. Thank you so much for the nomination. I feel especially honored to be nominated by you, Robert!


      1. It makes absolutely sense. But the last permission for all we are or do we are giving ourselves. It is easier when we also get permission from outside but the real permission comes from inside. The permission that changes lives profoundly and persistantly. Only the permission we give ourselves endures because it is part of us and we are we cannot lose.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. That’s an excellent point Erika…When we get permission from other people to find our higher selves we must give can accept it or not. The final decision about who we will be in our communities come down to us…provided we are not so damaged that we can’t function. This is where the line between mental health and mental illness gets more difficult to parse.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Yes, the last word is put to us. While writing it I was thinking about the difficulties it can bring with mental illness. You confirmed my thoughts. I understand that.

        Liked by 1 person

      1. I do too. Kind of makes you feel like people enjoy your posts. I know some people think they’re silly and never respond. I always appreciate them. 🙂


  3. Thank you, Rob! Reading your “about” list, my eyes popped, because my mother used to demand that I respect her (“because I am your MOTHER”) and I would retort that respect is earned, not demanded. The reply (if I didn’t clear the area in time) was a slap across the face, which of course did not increase the respect quotient.

    Now I am dealing with lack of respect from my own son, and unlike my mother I acknowledge my failings as a parent, and although most of that was due to mental illness (mine AND his, which he refuses to acknowledge) at least I own my responsibility for my own behaviour, whatever the cause.

    But that’s not good enough for him. I’m sure if I had a pound of flesh delivered to his doorstep (as my black humor bone suggests) he would go “pffff” and add it to his ammo box.

    Say, have you ever heard of NPD skipping a generation?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. This view of respect as something earned may be common to survivors, especially those who survived a narcissistic parent.

      I was supposed to respect my abusive Mother and every other alcoholic red-neck in the neighborhood, even the ones that raped me after calling me a fag.

      I think your son loves you, but he is too angry to know that.

      If he has a mental illness then one thing to consider is that except a mental illness is differently difficult for men.

      We are supposed to succeed. We are supposed to be strong.

      In some parts of the country the gender stereotypes haven’t changed in 70 years.

      What do you think those Second Life avatars with breasts as thick as thighs and nipples that look like they’re suspended from fishing poles are all about?

      On edit: My point is that he may love you but it’s buried under layers of anger. He may blame you for passing bad genes on to him. There are so many unreasonable expectations placed on all of us. It’s hard to know what to think. But speaking as a man who had a Mother who did nothing to earn my love; I know that I still love her for no other reason that that she was my Mother.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Hmmm, to tell you the truth, I’ve never looked at Second Life. I have enough problems with the first one, not to mention trying to figure out where the hell I am and how I got here, when I’m dissociated.

        I feel totally helpless to help my adult child, and of course guilty that I couldn’t make him happy, and that I wasn’t there for him…But he made it so hard to be with him, because he was angry all the time. So now he’s still angry, and I’m wary of letting him in after what he did to me at Thanksgiving. I’ve done the best I could, and I don’t deserve to be kicked in the head.

        Liked by 1 person

    1. I had a best friend whose Mother spent the entire day preparing dinner.
      I practically lived at his house and had dinner there almost every night.
      His Mother knew how to make a mess o’ greens and the best damned fried chicken in the city of Charleston.
      There was nothing she couldn’t deep fry to a delicious artery clogging turn.

      Now that I think about, almost every kid I knew lived at his house, too. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I don’t know if it was the South or the fact that I was a kid that made it seem so easy to make friends. When I find myself appalled by the political attitudes of that region today I remind myself that many of the people I’ve loved best in my life were born and raised there…

        Liked by 1 person

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