Today, is one of those days when I find myself wondering what exactly was done to me to make me the way I am. Afraid to trust, needing control, terrified to lose love, to gain it, undeserving of it even. I know it stems from him, and it makes me hate him, and it makes […]
There have been people who judged me and walked away
There have been people who didn’t care to listen to what I had to say
So…here is to the people who didn’t like in me high school
To the friends I had before I got divorced
And to the others who lack any decency or remorse
In the Past Year
There have been friends that chose sides
Friends that erased me from their lives
There have been some who used my life as a new topic
Who enjoyed my heartache and failures making them public
There have been women talking about me in sewing circles
And..girls..taking my leftovers and trying to make full meals
There has been a man who forgave me, leaving the past in the past
Who promised me friendship, regardless of others views, that wont last
There has been a Mother who tried to destroy me, telling many I was dead
And a Son, that used me up and left me questioning what all was said
There have been jobs lost, money completely drained
There has been bruises, anger, frustration and pain
Ive had people attack me and hit below the belt
I’ve been called fatty, ugly, childish remarks that leave a welt
I’ve been harassed, cheated and lied about
My sincerity, parenting and logic have been questioned with doubt
Ive spent days in bed asking God to please take me away and end this
Ive apologized, and accepted my punishments
Ive asked for forgiveness and tried to right all my wrongs
But, none of you cared how it felt for me all along
“How could she do that, and just walk away”
“He didn’t deserve that, he needs to make her pay”
“Oh wait, now their friends, how is that even possible?”
Because, my mistakes make the person I am, Remarkable.
The truth is real simple, this last year doesn’t define me
Speak what you want, hiding behind judgment and misery
Acceptance and friendship from you is not something I desire or need
But, when your life falls apart, judgment from me, you’ll never see
Because I know how it feels to have no private life
I know how it feels to have failed as a wife
I’ve watched my children suffer and cry because of me
What more pain do you think I need to feel and see?
At the end of the day none of you truly matter
Eventually the pain will diminish from your chatter
On the day your world becomes broken and unkind
I hope the shoes you fill, make you see how it felt to walk in mine
My life is mine to live how I wish, and that is what I have done
I’ve never in my life pretended to be anything or anyone
I’m proud of who I am, the lessons Ive learned and how I feel
Because at the end of the day, I am the one who is being real.
I’ve followed my heart, I’ve created my own path and I did it all for myself. I’ve failed, I’ve fallen and I did it in front of the world. I got back up, I learned from my mistakes, and I became a better person. I redefined my priorities, I fell deeper in love with my children and myself. I ended relationships and friendships, only to build new ones, or to allow for them to build new ones. I’ve never been the girl that does what she is told, I don’t sit back and watch and wait and see. I’ve allowed myself to feel, to love, to laugh and cry. I’ve dealt with loss, and goodbyes I never planned on, but am thankful for both.
I’ve learned I have alot of learning left to do, alot of mistakes to make still, and Im ready for whatever comes my way. I’m okay with people not understanding me, or thinking I do things wrong. I am okay with building my own path, my own way, because I am me, and thats who I plan to stay.
I’m thankful for my children, the ones I gave birth to, and the one that I get the pleasure of loving as if I did. I ‘m thankful for my daughters infectious personality, her smile and laughter that light up a room and the way she allows me to feel like the best mother in the world. And for, my son, who’s eyes light up my entire existence and wakes up my soul. My children are the greatest gifts and if i all I do in life is be their mother, I will be completely satisfied. I’m thankful for our home, which is modest but filled with fun, laughter and so much love.
I’m thankful for my husband, for his unorthodox approach to life, his dedication to family and his unwaivering ability to love me regardless. Im thankful for his family who has accepted us, my children, me with all my flaws, with open non-judgmental arms.
There isn’t a gift I would or could want, because God has blessed me with an amazing end to a year that could have ended so differently. My life is perfectly imperfect with a perfectly imperfect love, and I wouldnt want it any other way.
Being a mom means more than having given birth to a child. Its loving and knowing a soul before you even see it. It’s carrying, and caring for a life completely depending on you for survival. It’s giving air to the lungs that grew with-in you, and sight to the eyes that will never see you as anything but mommy. Its sleepless nights, its nursing scratches and scrapes, its being stern and protective. It’s teaching them to talk, to walk and eventually run. It’s learning to hand your child to a stranger to let them teach what you cannot. It’s bracing them for a fall, and dusting them off after they do. It’s seeing them cry, and not knowing how to fix it, so you sit on the floor and hold them and cry right along beside them. It’s teaching them, that they are smart, capable, funny and giving them the security to do great things. Its building their self-esteem, supporting their dreams and loving them unconditionally. Its letting them go, letting them fail, and teaching them how to get back up. It’s going without, so that they don’t have to, and being okay with it.
Being a Mother, is a gift that is unimaginable to any woman who does not have a child. It’s a connection that is unmatched and insurmountable in any form, fashion or other relationship. It’s a love that grows continually, a love that always wants more and better. It’s being terrified that you can’t prevent pain, injustice, heartbreak, and at times even death. It’s laughing at jokes that aren’t even funny, but the way they say it is. Its listening to stories, that go on and on without a point. It’s always being available for the “mommy watch ME’s” and “mommy I need you”. It’s drowning out the word MOM repeated over and over, in attempts to get your attention. Its songs sang out of tune, and settling squabbles with siblings. It’s being mean, and teaching hard lessons, that hurt you inside so deep you want to cry, but you can’t. It’s being strong for them, when you are weak. It’s smiling when you want to cry, and crying when you’re smiling with pride.
It’s looking through photographs and feeling your heart swell with love and happiness when you see the beauty, the happiness and life in your child’s smile and eyes. Its confusion, mistakes, uncharted territory and blind folded guessing. It’s snuggling on the couch watching a movie, braiding hair till your fingers hurt, it’s being woken up early on Saturday morning because they want to crawl in bed and be close to your heart. It’s having the worst day, and having them hug you and tell you ”mommy I love you”, and needing nothing more.
It’s a blessing, a gift, a relationship that never ends, and a love that never dies. It’s the best thing I have ever become, the greatest love I have ever felt and the best part about being me.
In the shower this morning, I found myself thinking about the same three women I am always intrigued by. These three women being none other than, Marilyn Monroe, Mae West and Elizabeth Taylor. Three women, that weren’t afraid to be real, act real, and talk real. They were loved my many, chastised by some, judged […]
Sitting here in bed, where I often write at, I struggle with deciding if I want to write my book anymore. The thought of having to get permission from any of the people I need to include in this book for it to all make sense, or more insanely pay them any kind of royalty makes me ill. Sure I can change names, places and recreate fake memories, but I don’t want to, I want the real story, the story they would never approve. My mood today has been one big pissed off at the world, how dare they hold me back, but all in silence – mainly because no one would care to hear me complain. We took a small break from my “issues” for family photos to be done. This was ridiculous, since my husband and I fought right before going. Pretty difficult to smile like a happy family and loving couple when you don’t even feel loved by the person whose eyes the photographer is asking you to gaze into. But, we did and I am sure they will turn out fine.
Sometimes I wonder what is wrong with me, do I have a chemical imbalance, am I mentally off kilter, seriously something has to be wrong with me. Low self-esteem, crappy childhood, dad issues, absent mother, trust issues, a few failed marriages, a child taken, and yet I’m still chugging along. How can all that happen and there not be some kind of physical or emotional damage? Generally I have not let any of those factors define me or hold me back, nor have I ever used them as feel sorry for me tactics. The monster behind why this whole new discovery, needing permission to write my book, has spun me into this incredible feeling of despair, anger and frustration.
How exactly do I go about that anyhow – Dear Ex husband A, B, and C can you please sign a form saying that I can share the demons within myself, along with your flaws and the demise of our marriages with the world, and without paying you a dime. Thanks – Signed the Ex-Wife who wants to become an author. Really ???… How well does anyone think that would go, and to anyone that knows me how well do you think I take NO? The ironic thing is that husband C, would sign – just as long as I make sure the book says how great the sex was. What does he plan to do, take this book and pick up women with it? “Hey ladies – my ex-wife wrote this book, and if you look on page 22, 56 and 89 it says I’m incredible in bed.” “Don’t look at the pages in between where I almost killed her, burned all her belongings, emotionally and physically abused her, went to jail four times, was a horrible alcoholic and addict though, those are just minor details”. He already feels like some kind of a local celebrity amongst the thugs and thieves in our town, mainly because what happened with us was talked about in varying circles. This, in our town isn’t difficult, because if you’re not being talked about, you’re talking about someone else. One thing I can tell you that differentiates Marriage C from the others – is that he was the only one I honestly, unconditionally, selflessly loved.