5 years

My son’s birthday just past and in the middle of the celebration I realized how I’ve been living the last 5 years.  My son turned 7 but when he was 2 my husband cheated on me, probably not the first time, but the first time he was caught.  Everything I thought I knew was gone in an instant and I was left there…crumbling.  Every inch of me hurt.  I hurt for my children, I hurt for myself, I hurt from the rejection, and I hurt because the one person I let in and trusted, betrayed me in the rawest, cruelest way possible.  Ever since that day I’ve been crawling out of the sink hole that sucked me down.  Everyday o linger somewhere between broken & defeated and happy and determined.  Every day I fight weakness and claim strength.  Everyday I feel the doubt creeping up and I run from it.  Everyday.

Everyday I feel ugly but tell myself I’m not.

Everyday I feel not good enough but I know that I am.

Everyday I battle.

One day I will win.

One day.

Being a Good Parent

Long ago when all I could do was imagine my grown up life one day, I was being parented by good parents.  They gave me space with limits.  They weren’t  perfect but I sure knew to say, “Yes, Ma’am and Yes, Sir”, respect my elders, how to write a thank you note, and how it was important to give to others.  I was taught to respect myself and to not ever give up too.  And above all, I was told I was loved and I was.  I knew my parents loved me.  I never had reason to doubt it.  

Then one day came and just like that, I was a parent.  I was shocked by the amount of love I felt instantly for this little, tiny, baby and I was amazed that I never knew how much my parents actually loved me!  I couldn’t believe what I thought wasn’t even close and I understood them so much more.  

Everyday since becoming a parent I’ve tried my hardest to be the best mother I could be.  I’ve had visions of who I wanted to be as a mother my entire life and every day I attempt being her.  I wouldn’t have a clue how to do it if my own mother hadn’t been so great.  To be a great parent, the easiest way is to be from great parents.  We repeat the patterns we’ve been taught to repeat.  If we don’t have great parents, we’ve known someone we thought was one and we could possibly try to copy their patterns.  Or maybe if we needed an example we could find guidance.  With the love I felt for my children, I’m sure I would have tried my hardest, even if I hadn’t been shown the best examples. 

Today I’m baffled by how many parents fail at their job.  They disappear or are selfish.  They’re lazy and don’t care.  Maybe they’re just doing what was done to them.  I don’t know.  What I do know is that we all should try to be better parents than the ones we had.  Even if ours were pretty great.  If yours weren’t, why wouldn’t you envision your own childhood and give them what you wished you had?  Why is that so hard.  Remember yourself as a child and heal yourself by being a better parent than the one that failed you.  How could you not try?

I’m lucky that I had two parents that loved me.  I really am.  I was lucky enough to have 2 healthy happy children.  I have not been lucky in lots of other ways.  I will never let that affect who I am as a parent to my babies.  I wish others could feel that same way too.  I wish before cheaters cheated they’d think about how this could hurt their children.  I wish before abusers beat or ripped someone apart with words, they’d think about how that was changing their children forever.  I wish that when people do seperate and/or eventually divorce that they would put their children before their dating life or their social life.  It makes children feel last when they constantly feel like they’re last in place in your priorities.  

I’ve seen an article floating around Facebook lately about letting your children know you’re the most important person in your family, not them.  I get the point of this article but it doesn’t read right to me.  How about let’s put family first and together as a unit our family is most important.  Not any one member.  That just sounds better to me. Family.  We should all try to have better families even when it’s just a mom and her two kids, like me. 

Much Love ~ iom

Lessons to Learn

Sunset on 15

Life is my heart beating.  Life is my chest rising up and down…air filling and releasing.  Life is blood pulsating through my veins. Keeping me warm.  Life is my thoughts.  Life happens without my help and life happens with it but one thing I know, there aren’t always answers.  It’s not always automatic.  There aren’t always reasons why.

Everything that has ever happened to me, painful things, I’ve had to learn from every angle.  When they resurface, after I’m far into healing, it always comes through someone else.  Someone I love but just in reverse.  I have to learn to understand the other side.  I don’t understand how this keeps happening over and over again but I can’t help but wonder…what lesson am I suppose to learn?  What did I miss the first time?

Am I suppose to learn that I can have compassion for myself and for someone else doing to someone else what was done to me?  It’s hard.  It hurts and it opens old wounds that I’ve worked hard healing.  I have a hard time just turning my back on anyone.  I don’t like when it’s done to me, but sometimes I want to.  Sometimes I want to run, but I can’t.  I can’t desert someone I love when they’re clearly hurting.  When it’s obvious they’ve lost their way.  It’s evident that they need support so I must push through.  I must start again and try not to let it affect me.  At least not outwardly.  Now it needs to be private pain because this isn’t about me.  

I miss my boring married life where there were routines and patterns.  I miss knowing how my days would turn out and how the nights would end.  I miss being held and comforted at night.  I miss being loved.  I miss being touched and kissed and treasured.  I miss loving too.  I miss giving my love.  I love to love.  

How can I learn to be selfish.  Learn to take care of myself and focus on my new future. How do people put their needs above everyone else’s? I don’t mean my children.  Their needs will always be more important than mine but what about everyone else?  I’m not built like this but leaving my needs and my self behind, last in line, isn’t going to secure my future and I have to do it alone.  Relying on or needing anyone ever again isn’t going to happen.  I just hope to love again.  

I’m feeling lost and sad about the things I’ve been hearing about.  I’m just happy that my normal is pretty solid.  I’m just surrounded by so many things that are not.  So many people that are hiding many, many secrets.  People making huge mistakes and not caring about one another.  It worries me.  

We must find a better way. 
must find a better way. Happiness, love, simple joys, good conversations, passionate  kisses…that’s not too much to wish for, is it?

🦄🍀🌻 iom

Porn.  Is it what you dreamed of?

Last night I received a text, from my ex, in response to me asking if he forgot to pay child support that said,  “You gonna get busy being a survivor? Or be a victim for the rest of your life.”  This because I asked for the money he is suppose to give me but doesn’t want to.  This is after I heard he’s been at one of the local strip clubs this week.  This is after I know he is taking women out on pricey dates.  This is after surviving the mind fuck he tried to ruin me with.  His porn addiction gone astray to becoming a full blown sex addict.  He has done things that would make your skin crawl.  He wants to insult me.  He likes to throw around the word victim as an insult just the way he use to call me a fucking cunt after I’d bust him doing something awful.  He likes to flip it and try to insult me when he’s the one doing wrong.  Not me.

If that wasn’t enough to make me scream, I received a phone call that completely blindsided me.  I can’t even admit who it was about yet, because I can’t believe it.  It is someone I love very much.  He is losing his family because of porn.  Again someone else started with porn and moved on to something much worse.  Prioritizing porn and sex addiction ahead of everything.  Before his family and now he, like my ex, may lose everything that makes him normal.  I promise he’s not ready to face his problem.  He’s saying all the right words but will he follow it up with actions?  Only time will tell but I will say, I don’t think anyone knows how hard this is going to be.  

There has been evidence of sexual obsession as far back as you want to look.  Artists have created images of taboo sexual actions for hundreds and hundreds of years.  Soon after photography entered our world so did naked photos and sexual explicit images.  Stag films entered after movies were invented.  Most were exclusively for men but not anymore.  Women have been degrading themselves for too long.  These women are someone’s daughters.  All these women were once innocent little girls dreaming of fairy tale endings.

Porn is a forbidden fruit.  It is easily and secretly obtained in family homes across America and every other country in our world.  It is splitting apart our families.  It is stealing joy and creating misery.  Couple after couple after couple are not happy.  This is based on unhappy sex lives.  One  partner has watched too many pornos and the other feels like an object and not loved.  Partners are expected to be physically perfect like the plastic images on the screen.  We are expected to be “Randy and Ready” for whatever, whenever without complaint.  All because people have watched and obsessed about insane, unrealistic performances on screen for years.  If you won’t allow someone to stretch out your asshole with a butt plug the size of a horses head while being pegged by a viagra inhanced dick, someone pinching, pulling, and assalting nipples of massive, bouncing, surgically inhanced breasts, while smacking each other’s faces, and calling each other motherfucker, whore, asshole, and dirty slut, then you may just be too boring sexually to satisfy your partner’s needs.  Seriously…come on! I’m adventurous in my sexual escapades but no way in a thousand hells will I ever let someone stick a horse head butt plug in my ass people!!!  All because someone, somewhere decided to ask a struggling actor to do ridiculous things on screen, making it appear normal.  Now people idolize these images and performances and expect this from their partners.  When partners can’t perform like this, they’re blamed for not satisfying them in the bedroom causing them to to look elsewhere.  Divorces occur and our families are breaking up, causing a ripple effect of misery because no one can satisfy their sexual needs.  They don’t consider their sexual needs are unrealistic and based on bullshit porn they’ve obsessed about since they first saw their first naked image.  They’ve been mind fucked by the porn industry and they haven’t been fucked alone.  It’s so widely available now in our internet obsessed worlds that now people can’t live normal lives.  They can’t shake these images and walk around in their normal jobs with half hardies and damp panties wanting to be fucked in the break rooms by someone else’s spouse.

I’m exhausted with all this bullshit.  I’m not an innocent in this either.  I’ve seen.  I’ve looked. BUT I’ve never obsessed.  I’ve looked out of curiosity but this curiosity is how it started for the sex addicted.  They allowed their minds to be seduced and conquered and now our futures are in jeopardy.  

I just don’t know what we’re suppose to do to stop it.  It’s out of control.  If you don’t believe me understand this, people in your church, in the pew beside you, are obsessing about porn and aren’t listening to the sermon.  They’re visualizing the sexual assault watched, that morning, on their cellphones as their spouse took a shower, and their children were glued to the tv.  This forbidden fruit is ruining our families.   Children are craving their parents attention and not getting it because currently they are the nuisance that is in the way of getting off to some porn.  So these porn addicted parents act irritated and mean because this addiction has taken over their lives.

I’m sickened.  I’m tired of hearing about another family lost to this.  No more Christmases, no more birthdays, no more happy homes.  Porn wins and we lose.  

🖕🏻Fuck you porn.  
You’re the gateway to hell.
The gateway to misery.

-iom

A Pair

I miss being part of a pair.  I see couples, married, joking and having fun.  Laughing together at their kids or smiling together watching their kids accomplish something.  That was one of the things that ol’ Cheater McCheaterson said to me, that wasn’t awful, that he didn’t want to miss me looking back at him smiling about something one of our kids just did.  Smiling and proud and happy.  That was one of the things that seemed  real and heart felt but probably was manipulative.  I despise this personality disorder from which he suffers.  You can’t take anything at face value.  Even if some things are just that….just as they seem.  I can never trust that they are.

I really miss having someone to snuggle with on the couch.  I miss holding hands and hugs in the kitchen.  I even miss ass grabs…and dry humps from behind when I was incredibly too busy.  It was all silly and playful. I realize these were just crumbs.  There were tons of low blows and jabs along the ways.  There was always resistance and always criticism.  I was willing to love through all of that, with only crumbs.  I don’t think I thought I deserved better but I knew I didn’t deserve infidelity.  Not the first time, which I was willing to forgive if he would’ve been willing to do the work.  The 2nd, more disgusting time, during the time he was suppose to be working to repair our marriage, was just too much for anyone to take.  Then all the mean stuff afterwards.  

I miss being a part of a pair.  I miss the visions I had of our future.  Shit, I miss having happy visions of my future.  Now all I have fear.  Fear not knowing what to do.  Fear of not knowing how to do it.  Fear from not having my parents to help me figure it all out, even if only emotionally.  Their encouragement helped me push through the fear before.  Knowing they’d help if I needed them to, helped too.  Even if I never needed them, knowing they were there mattered.  Lately at night I have been lying in my marriage bed, starring at the ceiling, and wondering how the hell I got here.  Will I always been alone?  Will I ever be comfortable with anyone else.  Do I even want to try?  Then I think I’m not ready but I’m not getting any younger.  Getting older makes me feel ugly.  I wanted to grow old with someone.  A pair of oldies.  Didn’t seem as bad that way.  Men seem to look good when they age.  Women sometimes just look old.  It’s totally not fair.  Maybe I need Botox.  Maybe a pair of Botox injections.  

It’s raining.  I’m moody in the rain.  Sad and moody rain girl wishing for a spoon 🙄.  Needing some sunshine.  

☀️ 🌈 🍀-iom

A Child’s Perspective

I pray a lot and honestly I still probably could pray some more.  I pray for my children the most and our future together.  I’ve prayed for them to be ok being from a divorced family more times than I can remember.  I have prayed that they don’t remember things that have happened in front of them, to them, or even things that they heard so many, many times.  Tonight I found out, for sure, my prayers are being heard.  My daughter remembers a terrible incident as a good memory.  She remembers her father and I fighting over her one night when I was scared he was going to take her.  She was asleep and he kept going in her room and in her bed.  I just figured out he was a sex addict.  I didn’t know what this exactly meant and I didn’t trust him in our daughters bed with her.  So he went in and I went behind him and took her out of the bed and to the guest room bed with me.  Then he came and got her and then me.  Finally we both just fell asleep with her in the guest room.  There was a lot of arguing when this was going on.  I have thought of this as a failing moment for me as a mother because I could have done that better.  I could have been better but I wasn’t.  I didn’t have to argue with him.  I could have just been pleasant and just took her.  Tonight she brought this memory up when I was tucking her in.  She said, “I loved that night when you and daddy fought over me and then we all slept together in the guest bedroom.”  “I really loved all that attention…it was fun, Mommy.”  I was shocked.  I thought we’d surely relive that memory in therapy during her teenage years.  It is one of the memories I’m most disappointed in my actions.  It’s one that I prayed about a lot and it appears my prayers were answered, just not in the way I prayed for.  She didn’t forget the memory she just remembers it as something it wasn’t.  From her perspective we both wanted to love her and we both were fighting for her happily.  So strange how that turned out but I’m thankful for it not being a memory of what it really was.  

Unbelievable thankful.   

🦄

Memories

I just remembered this song and how I wanted it to be on my birthing mix of music.  For the hospital.  It’s like I’ve be screaming at myself for years and I couldn’t even hear myself scream.  Sad to think about.  This is also when my ex wrote me a note and promise seconds before being let back in the operating room for my c-section.  I didn’t need the birthing mix after all.

His note said, “Ebba (a nickname my family use to call me when I was little that he thought was cute) I promise I’m going to be the best husband and daddy ever.  We are going to have the best little family and I just can’t believe we are about to have our first baby.  You’ve done such a good job preparing for her.   I know I’m going to cry like a baby. I love you so much.”

Too bad he only meant the things during the moments.  When it got hard, he always ran until he started doing (or possibly finally getting caught for) all the terribly cruel and abusive things I’ve written about.  Too bad the moments weren’t the life.

As I sit here writing this I overhear the conversations these ladies walking by were talking about.  They’re complaining about heir husbands not doing his part of the dishes or complaining over who does more of the housework.  I just wanted to scream, but does he love you? Eff the dishes and be happy you love each other.  I promise you if your marriage ends you’ll wonder why you wasted your breath on such trivial things.