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
I’ll never stop wishing ⭐️.
Love ❤️ ~
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.
I must find a better way. Happiness, love, simple joys, good conversations, passionate kisses…that’s not too much to wish for, is it?
While I was talking to my good friend M yesterday she mentioned someone we know from our hometown. She was saying that her children spend a lot of time with their grandmother now since this person and their father divorced. She mentioned that their mother worked a lot but when she wasn’t working she was focused on her social life and dating. This mom was more focused on getting her life back on track, finding her next love, and moving on with a new life. M went on to say that she wasn’t putting her children first, like I was. It made me think…I am putting my children first. Not because it’s the right thing to do, it’s the only thing to do. After all the crazy chaos they been through, bringing a new person in their life would be difficult for them and I’m sure they’re not ready for that. I’m not.
I started to think about the few divorced adults I knew growing up and I remember two (seriously there may have been 3 couples) of them had an immediate new relationship, followed by a marriage, and new family made. How difficult it must have been for their children. I know they felt loyal to the other parent and felt like this new person was an intruder. I can’t imagine the confusion. Even a good friend of mine who’s parents divorced when she was an adult and remarried less than 2 years later says how difficult that is. How she feels like she can’t talk about her other parent, how she has no home to go to anymore. She has her mom and new guys house and her dad and new lady’s house. Neither place feels comfortable. Neither place is like coming home. Her home no longer exist. Her home was her parents house. She’s misplaced. I think a lot of children, even adult children of divorce lose their identity. Lose their place in this world.
I feel a slight bit of pride knowing that a large part of why I’m not really ready to date is because of my children. I don’t want them to have to adjust to a new person when they’re still adjusting to their parents not living together. They don’t need me dropping them off with someone all of them time so I can live it up. So I can have an active social life. They need time. I will put them first my entire life. I will put them first forever. They will never question that. I’ll make sure of it.
I do understand I need time for myself. It’s good for me to have adult relationships and have times when I do things separate from my kids. I do have these times. I just don’t need them constantly. I have them when they are with having daddy time. I chose to have my children and I will raise them. Not act like they’re a nuisance and in the way of my life.
One day I hope I find someone to love and to be loved by, but I’m not in any hurry. I don’t want to go to dating sites and force the issue. I hope that one day, when we’re all ready, it will just fall into place. I have a feeling that it will. Long before any of that happens the kids and I will have already discussed these things and figured out how it will work best. It’s their home and life too. I could never be a person that forced someone in their life without knowing how they’d feel about it first. Before anyone even existed. That feels right to me.
Months ago, while going through some of my parents things, I found a report by my psychiatrist from high school. My parents s made me see him after a tragedy. They had been instructed to do so by another doctor because I was not equipped to deal with what had occurred without guidance. So I did what I was told and went to these appointments, however I never really liked the man nor did I feel comfortable talking to him. I pretended he was fine and that I was too. Interestingly enough, his report summed up who I was and am pretty accurately. Did he help me with the tragedy? No. Did he understand who I was? Yes, he seemed to get me completely
The report stated that I felt like I wasn’t ever heard and surely never understood. That my emotional needs never seemed to be met and because of that, over time, I felt angry. Now all teenagers feel misunderstood but this wasn’t what he meant and I know that because I still feel these ways today. I remember back then thinking maybe I don’t explain things well. So I tried harder to articulate what I was asking for but it seemed like I was speaking a foreign language. My parents were old school and taught it wasn’t proper to show too much emotion. Not the uncomfortable kind anyway. Joyful emotions were allowed at all levels. The other stuff, makes people uncomfortable. I get it now. They didn’t know how to handle me and my loud emotions. They never were taught how to handle heir own. I was a force to be reckoned with.
I have read a few post recently that reminded me of this. It’s made me look at myself and think once again, is it me? I do still struggle with feelings of being misunderstood and not heard. I still feel people hear only what they want to hear, when I’m trying hard to listen to every word everyone says to me included facial expressions, inflections, or if not spoken….how it’s written and how the pattern of what is said, surrounded by everything else, is said and how it relates to what is trying to be said. What is trying to be felt. Maybe I try too hard and I expect others to try just as hard when they’re not made like me. I can’t make my dog meow so maybe I shouldn’t expect her too. I shouldn’t expect people to try to understand me, like a desperately try to understand them, because it’s not who they are. They aren’t disrespecting me. They just can’t.
I think the right person will understand me. Will take the time to hear what I’m saying as I will do for them. I should just feel blessed that I do try to get people and usually do and they feel it. I need to look at it as a gift and not expect the same for everyone else. This is a good lesson, I think.
Happy Saturday to all of you!
Sometimes I get tired of hearing alternative truths. 😂. I’m not really joking though. I am not one thing without admitting the other existed. It’s just not a fair comparison. If I shall be judged please don’t do it with part of the information. This has always frustrated me. If you have to deny the part that makes you feel bad and judge the part that makes you feel right then it may be time to reevaluate. I am just a person with a heart, a soul, and a purpose. Just like every other human being out there. I am all of me….never half. Let’s be honest.
I can’t believe how big my children are. I already miss their little baby selves toddling around. I miss how they’d reach for me from their cribs. I miss how I had to cut up all their food into tiny bit sized pieces for their high chair trays. I miss strapping one in a baby Bjorne while carrying the other one on my hip while pushing a grocery cart. I miss their little squeaky voices and mispronunciations. I can’t believe how fast times flies when you’re a parent. I just love them so much. I wish I would’ve had more. ❤️