Unedited

You know, I often get to this place in a relationship and it frustrates the hell out of my partner, and it frustrates the hell out of my family and my friends, and it frustrates the absolute fuck out of me. But here we are anyhow. So I get to this place where I step back – like a big step back. I’m looking at the big picture and I just see that this man that I love would be better off with someone else.

I could see how 100 other women would make him happier and would make his life better and richer and he deserves that. And I look at me and I see that I don’t have anything to offer but problems and so I ask myself OK why is this man with me and I honestly can’t answer that. There is no answer. I don’t know and I feel guilty for trapping him here and I feel awful.

I’ve read and even agreed with, and I’ve been told that it’s not OK to make that choice for someone else. That we have to let them decide when it’s too much and not enough at the same time and that they don’t want to do it anymore. I agree with that. I don’t want someone to take that choice from me. But I think that I just can’t risk being blindsided and rejected.

I just feel awful. It all feels so awful, and I’m so unbelievably sad and heartbroken, but I know that I can survive heartbreak but I don’t think I can survive feeling like an impostor for the rest of my life. That’s exactly what I would feel like: an imposter if I stay with this man when I know that he deserves so much better. I just can’t be that person. I can’t live that lie and I just think that after this one I’m not gonna do this ever again. I think that I’m gonna pray instead every single day for the strength not to do this again. That I would not feel like I want to be in a relationship. Because this part sucks the fucking most. -Amily

Mother-load of Problems

I got a call yesterday- well in all honesty I missed the call because I was working – but they left a detailed voicemail. My mother is probably going to die in the coming 24-48 hours. I was told about a month ago she was dying, so this isn’t super shocking. But the thing is, I don’t have a clue how to feel.

The last time I saw her I was far too young to remember her. She would tell you she lost custody in court to my monster step-mother when my dad died. And she would be right. She might not tell you that she never made an attempt before he died when I was six to see or talk to me. And she never made an attempt after I grew up, either. And I’m 41. And I’ve always made sure I was accessible though I e also felt it was her responsibility to reach, not mine.

I’ve forever felt the sting of a mother’s betrayal. I’ve done therapy and even an intensive and they have helped a lot. But there I think will forever remain a hole where her presence should have been. It took me a long long timep to understand none of it was my fault or in my control. And the whole thing pisses me off now because she’s only in her early-mid sixties and the daughter she did keep and raise and stays involved with has had to watch her mother die selfishly due to her bad choices and health negligence. She still can’t be a decent mother even at this age.

The crux of it all is that my own daughter is due to give birth to a little girl in less than two months. It’s a bit confusing to be in both positions. I was never taught how to be a mother. I’ve figured everything I know out on my own. And now here I am watching my own daughter become a mother, fighting the fears that I’ve done poorly, passed on a terrible legacy, and failed her…those fears are hard to keep in check at times. But I will. Because I would do anything for my children. And I don’t understand those who could toss them away. I don’t understand my mother.

I’m a single mom. It’s undeniably difficult. But it’s not impossible. I didn’t need her to buy me things or do things or even give wisdom. I just needed her to love me a little. She was very abusive and neglectful when I was a baby. I forgave it a long time ago. But she’ll never know that. And part of me feels a little guilt over it, that I didn’t make an effort to unburden her. But damnit I had to clean up her mess she left in my life. It’s not my responsibility to also clean up the mess she made in her own. She’s had the capability to do literally anything. If she would have even pointed, I would have gladly taken the opportunity to know her. But she never cared enough.

I was told recently regarding her dying that nothing is going to change for me or about my life when she dies. And it’s the sad truth. Literally nothing will change. So I’m not going to let myself get too upset when I get that call. It’s coming soon. I’m just going to look forward to the life change that WILL change my life soon. I’m gonna be a grandma. And I’m not ever going to find myself in a position where me dying wouldn’t affect their lives because I’m going to love them with all my might. I’m going to change the narrative for our future and future generations.

I Really Like Thursdays (Not a Typo)

I realize Thursdays are an unusual day to love. But I do. Thursday is an admin day for my clinic. By that, I mean I come in, no one else does. No patients. No salespeople. The phone can go to voicemail. But I often answer it anyway. I get so absolutely much done on Thursdays. It’s quiet and I can think and plan and dream of bigger things here. Sometimes I think it’s a little unfair for my staff to all be off on Thursdays – that’s probably a great day for them, too – but man I love the productivity it brings.

In my life, it is loud everywhere. My kids are loud, my office is loud, the road is loud, the stores are loud, and my house is loud, what with all of its dishwashing and robo-vacuuming and air conditioning and food refrigerating and bathroom exhaust fanning. The plumbing makes noise and the neighbors make noise and the kids’ electronics make noise. Even though the TV is rarely on, there is so much noise movement. It’s so loud everywhere, all of the time. But here on Thursdays, I can turn the air warmer, take off my coat in the middle of summer, be warm, and be quiet. I don’t really mind the sound of the computer keys and the little clickety-clack of my mouse; it’s the sound of things being done within silence and it’s beautiful and divine and singularly mine to enjoy.

Maybe that’s actually the best part: I don’t have to share this with anyone. Occasionally the phone rings on Thursday and I’m summoned from the peace that is productivity. But the person will either leave a voicemail or if I can, I’ll see how I can help them, and then within a few moments I’ll return to the silence. The movement of business while the building rests. Not everyone understands this concept. For many in this busy, flashy world, I think it would inspire madness instead of creativity and progress. And that breaks my heart a little.

Up You Go

When I look into your eyes, little one, I see pieces of me in there. And it’s terrifying because I still haven’t begun to figure it all out. There’s so much ash in my past that the finger is always pointed at that for me. I even do it myself. There’s rejection and abandonment and physical abuse and neglect from my birth mother. There’s sexual abuse from my grandfather. There’s the pain of being made the offender of that abuse at the tender age of four. There’s the trauma. Rise in a way I haven’t, yet. Rise faster than I have. Take everything you need from this world, child, and rise.

I Am Not Afraid

Well, friends, I just rolled over my first birthday ever unafraid. ALWAYS in the past, I have been fearful as part of my birthday repertoire. I was fearful of spending money we didn’t have. I was fearful of getting attention from a drunk husband. I was fearful I would be forgotten. I was fearful my children would learn to have a birthday being afraid. It would be loud. It would be the creation of guilt which could be used against me later. It sucked. But yesterday was different. I was unafraid. Well, I was a little afraid– this was my first one, cut me some slack. But the fears were unfounded. Nothing bad happened. Nothing bad will happen because of anything that happened yesterday. It was my very first one happy. In my entire life. I didn’t try to hide that it was my birthday and even put a social media post up with pictures. It was amazing! Here’s to freeing yourself! Y’all, go make yourself free if you’re not. If you’re oppressed and crazy miserable, do something about it, no matter how hard it is or how hard you think it will be.

Actually,
Amily