I have so much going through me right now. So much I can't give actual details too, and yet.... I have to get it out.
My family is going through so much right now. We are in a time of turmoil, healing and growing. And it sucks and yet, I have the highest hopes.
We are expecting visitors in a month's time. And I am so excited to see them again. Truly. But They also have ties to someone who abandoned us and hurt us, with no just cause. And as excited as I am to reconnect, I am also very weary. It sucks to feel like this.
Then there is this amazing young women.. the daughter of an old childhood friend who lost touch with in the past 10 years or so. This girl seems so amazing. She reminds me so much of one of my own daughters in so many ways. And love I have always had for her is still there and just as it has always been. Thank God for the internet. For I am finally able to see what a wonderful person she is. I miss her mom terribly. And yet I am so happy at the woman I see her daughter becoming.
Like I said, my family has our own issues. And I feel torn between loved ones. I pray I make the right choices. I pray for healing in our home and family.
Life is crazy. That's for sure. It's a very bumpy, curvy ride. But I am in it for long haul. And I am all too thankful for those who are in it with me.
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
Monday, June 13, 2016
PULSE
I am so ... ugh! I don't think there are words accurate enough to describe how I am feeling. Sad? Outraged? Angry? I just can't pick one.
By now everyone has heard about the shooting at the night club called Pulse in Orlando, FL. The last time I checked the press reported 50 people dead, and 53 wounded. When I found out about the shooting, my heart sank. Then I found out why the shooting took place, and my heart broke (terrorist hit targeting gays).
And as if this tragedy wasn't horrific enough, people decided to go online and start tweeting about it. And it was ugly. Click Here to see what I mean I am sitting here blogging this because I have so many thoughts and emotions on this, and I need a way to unjumble the mess of thoughts and emotions going through me.
One of the thoughts flying around my mediocre brain is this: Doesn't everyone know that it isn't just the gay community at the gay clubs? Back in my clubbing days, straight people went to the gay club all the time. It was a place to dance and not get hit on. It was a place to enjoy your gay friends. Just like how any club not deemed a "gay" club has gay people in it on any given night, the gay clubs also have a straight people in it. Because so many people don't care about labels. We judge people on their personalities and whether or not they are good people, instead of lifestyles, religion, or anything else you can discriminate against.
But it goes deeper this. The hate, the absolute abhorrent hate and lack of compassion make my blood boil, as if it is okay it kill people because they are gay. What if someone who's religion decided that all blonds had to die, that they were instruments of the devil to seduce people? Would that be okay? Or what if someone decided Jewish people were a stain on the betterment of mankind and had to be killed? Oh wait, that happened. Or what if people decided that the color of your skin decided your place in society, and if you were not white, you were a lower class and had no rights, and could be killed just because you weren't white? Oh, wait. That happened in our history too.
You see, there is no difference between the scenarios I listed and what happened at Pulse. It's plain hate. And what really gets in my crawl, is that some people don't even realize that. They feel justified and hide behind religion. You know, kinda the same way the shooter did. In fact, this kind of religious "justification" makes those people no different than shooter.
You don't have to agree with others to show kindness and compassion.
Since we are on to religion, I will say this: The God that I worship did not rejoice in these killings. He wept. And he continues to weep at the lack of love and compassion humanity has.
The shooting at Pulse gives us a very sad look into the pulse of humanity. And I am troubled. I am saddened. I am enraged. I am so many things.
My heart goes out to all the victims of Pulse shooting and their families. I pray they find some comfort in the days ahead.
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
RAPE CULTURE
In the headlines again is another sexual assault case. The Brock Turner case. In case you aren't aware of it yet, here is the summary:
Stanford Party. Girl gets way too drunk and passes out behind a dumpster, where Brock Turner finds here. He takes off her cardigan, pulls up her bra, and throws her panties to the side. Two men on bikes pedal by and and see him on top of her thrusting away. She has no memory of it. She awakes in the ER to be told what has happened to her. She has injuries. Brock Turner only got 6 months in jail and probation for his crime. The country is horrified. His father said it was a tough sentence for twenty minutes of action. Seriously. He said that. Brock was athlete, a swimmer. He lost his scholarship too. The whole thing has everyone talking. To read all the articles online, you see how the woman was victimize and yet the court was more worried about this young man's future than what had happened to her. It's terrible. And you know what?
I feel for her.
I was her. Only I didn't press charges.
I was at a party a while back. I was a teenager. I was at a close friends apartment and knew just about everyone there. I even brought a friend with me. He was more like family, than a friend. I drank underage and drank way too much. I went to my friend's bedroom to lay down. I remember the guy I brought with me asking if he could lay with me. I felt safe. I passed out.
I woke up some time later with NO clothes on the bottom half of my body. I was sore. I started screaming for help and crying. My friends helped me find my clothes. We called the hospital to ask about rape kit. I couldn't have one without filing a police report. I was scared. That was the last thing I wanted. Police. Court. No. I just wanted to shower. It took some convincing, but my friends finally let me shower.
I don't think I ever scrubbed myself so hard in all my life. I cried the entire time.
Afterwards I retired to another bedroom where my friend stood watch over me all night. He gave me some medicine for pain, and I cried myself to sleep. I left the next morning, and left the guy I thought was family there to find his own ride home. Oh yeah... no one kicked him out.
I was a wreck. I didn't know what to do. I told my mom,who was best friends with his mom, and she was there too. I just kept crying and said he hurt me. I was asked if I was sure. I was told he admitted to partying too much that night (he not only drank but did some drugs as well. Something I was not into. And who talks to their mom about this stuff before hand if they don't think they did anything wrong? Isn't that called damage control?) I was asked that maybe it didn't happen like that. That maybe my drinking meant that maybe I had consented and... ??? Yeah. He was the one being defended. I was the one no one believed. Forget that I was wreck. Forget there were witnesses who said he was the ONLY one in that room with me, and had to help me find my clothes, and soothe me. No no. It was my fault. I should not have drank so much (forget he did too, on top of drugs). This was my fault. I must not be remembering correctly. Forget those who knew... who were there...who saw my pain and panic and tears. Let me tell you something... life's a bitch.
At first I had wished I had gone ahead and went to the hospital and pressed the charges. But then I realized that if those closest to me didn't believe me, why would the courts? To this day he is free man.
I HATE HIM. I trusted him. I thought of him like a brother. And he violated me. And no one cared. No one but the two men who helped me find my clothes, watched over me, kept me safe and begged me to go the hospital.
The guy who did this to me has never apologized, never felt remorse, never looked backed. He didn't care about how what he did affected me. He doesn't care that when something triggers me it effects me for weeks. WEEKS!!! Even to this day!
After this assault, I thought myself a victim. It took years, YEARS, to push past this. To push past all of this, and realize I was not a victim. I was a survivor. I was actually stronger than I thought. The sad fact is though, when something triggers me, I feel like a victim all over again.
This kind of thing becomes a part of you. It changes you in ways you can't even explain. It becomes a part of who you are. It's a sick and disgusting thing. And it's now a part of you. It shapes how you see others, how you trust, how you see yourself and any self worth you thought you had. It's sad when 20 years later you still can't see certain scenes in movies or shows because it triggers nightmares. It triggers all the feelings of helplessness, pain, sorrow, anger,.... so many things. It NEVER goes away. Like I said, it becomes a part of you. You can forget after some time. But when you least expect it, something will trigger you again. And it takes quite a while to get back to normal again. First months, then eventually weeks. It never really goes away. I still have issues with self worth.
You see, what this poor woman went through with Brock Turner, is not an exception. It happens every day. Every day women are assaulted and no one believes them. They make them out to be at fault. IT'S NOT THEIR FAULT!!! I was in jeans and shirt. What a woman is wearing does not matter. If a woman cannot talk, she cannot consent. A passed out woman is not asking for it. Neither is one who isn't passed out.
We have to stop blaming the victims. We need to start holding these predators accountable for their actions.
I no longer trust people like I use too. My now loving husband had to nurse me through my nightmares (which I still have when triggered). Seeing all this in the news and on social media has brought back all the pain again. I don't sleep (not that I was sleeping all that well anyway). I wake up having nightmares all over again. Feeling the shame, the pain, the panic, the anger. I worry about my daughters. Because I know all too well that those you trust can hurt you in the worst ways. This is something I carry with me. I cannot watch certain scenes in movies without flashing back to this night (and a few other assaults I have endured).
I hate what happened to this woman. I understand her pain. I hate that Brock Turner got a light slap on the wrist for forever changing this woman's life. I admire her for having the courage to do what I could not.
Let's stop blaming victims. Let's start really letting these perverts, these predators, know that they are at fault. And that we as society will no longer stand idly by and just let them do this.
Stanford Party. Girl gets way too drunk and passes out behind a dumpster, where Brock Turner finds here. He takes off her cardigan, pulls up her bra, and throws her panties to the side. Two men on bikes pedal by and and see him on top of her thrusting away. She has no memory of it. She awakes in the ER to be told what has happened to her. She has injuries. Brock Turner only got 6 months in jail and probation for his crime. The country is horrified. His father said it was a tough sentence for twenty minutes of action. Seriously. He said that. Brock was athlete, a swimmer. He lost his scholarship too. The whole thing has everyone talking. To read all the articles online, you see how the woman was victimize and yet the court was more worried about this young man's future than what had happened to her. It's terrible. And you know what?
I feel for her.
I was her. Only I didn't press charges.
I was at a party a while back. I was a teenager. I was at a close friends apartment and knew just about everyone there. I even brought a friend with me. He was more like family, than a friend. I drank underage and drank way too much. I went to my friend's bedroom to lay down. I remember the guy I brought with me asking if he could lay with me. I felt safe. I passed out.
I woke up some time later with NO clothes on the bottom half of my body. I was sore. I started screaming for help and crying. My friends helped me find my clothes. We called the hospital to ask about rape kit. I couldn't have one without filing a police report. I was scared. That was the last thing I wanted. Police. Court. No. I just wanted to shower. It took some convincing, but my friends finally let me shower.
I don't think I ever scrubbed myself so hard in all my life. I cried the entire time.
Afterwards I retired to another bedroom where my friend stood watch over me all night. He gave me some medicine for pain, and I cried myself to sleep. I left the next morning, and left the guy I thought was family there to find his own ride home. Oh yeah... no one kicked him out.
I was a wreck. I didn't know what to do. I told my mom,who was best friends with his mom, and she was there too. I just kept crying and said he hurt me. I was asked if I was sure. I was told he admitted to partying too much that night (he not only drank but did some drugs as well. Something I was not into. And who talks to their mom about this stuff before hand if they don't think they did anything wrong? Isn't that called damage control?) I was asked that maybe it didn't happen like that. That maybe my drinking meant that maybe I had consented and... ??? Yeah. He was the one being defended. I was the one no one believed. Forget that I was wreck. Forget there were witnesses who said he was the ONLY one in that room with me, and had to help me find my clothes, and soothe me. No no. It was my fault. I should not have drank so much (forget he did too, on top of drugs). This was my fault. I must not be remembering correctly. Forget those who knew... who were there...who saw my pain and panic and tears. Let me tell you something... life's a bitch.
At first I had wished I had gone ahead and went to the hospital and pressed the charges. But then I realized that if those closest to me didn't believe me, why would the courts? To this day he is free man.
I HATE HIM. I trusted him. I thought of him like a brother. And he violated me. And no one cared. No one but the two men who helped me find my clothes, watched over me, kept me safe and begged me to go the hospital.
The guy who did this to me has never apologized, never felt remorse, never looked backed. He didn't care about how what he did affected me. He doesn't care that when something triggers me it effects me for weeks. WEEKS!!! Even to this day!
After this assault, I thought myself a victim. It took years, YEARS, to push past this. To push past all of this, and realize I was not a victim. I was a survivor. I was actually stronger than I thought. The sad fact is though, when something triggers me, I feel like a victim all over again.
This kind of thing becomes a part of you. It changes you in ways you can't even explain. It becomes a part of who you are. It's a sick and disgusting thing. And it's now a part of you. It shapes how you see others, how you trust, how you see yourself and any self worth you thought you had. It's sad when 20 years later you still can't see certain scenes in movies or shows because it triggers nightmares. It triggers all the feelings of helplessness, pain, sorrow, anger,.... so many things. It NEVER goes away. Like I said, it becomes a part of you. You can forget after some time. But when you least expect it, something will trigger you again. And it takes quite a while to get back to normal again. First months, then eventually weeks. It never really goes away. I still have issues with self worth.
You see, what this poor woman went through with Brock Turner, is not an exception. It happens every day. Every day women are assaulted and no one believes them. They make them out to be at fault. IT'S NOT THEIR FAULT!!! I was in jeans and shirt. What a woman is wearing does not matter. If a woman cannot talk, she cannot consent. A passed out woman is not asking for it. Neither is one who isn't passed out.
We have to stop blaming the victims. We need to start holding these predators accountable for their actions.
I no longer trust people like I use too. My now loving husband had to nurse me through my nightmares (which I still have when triggered). Seeing all this in the news and on social media has brought back all the pain again. I don't sleep (not that I was sleeping all that well anyway). I wake up having nightmares all over again. Feeling the shame, the pain, the panic, the anger. I worry about my daughters. Because I know all too well that those you trust can hurt you in the worst ways. This is something I carry with me. I cannot watch certain scenes in movies without flashing back to this night (and a few other assaults I have endured).
I hate what happened to this woman. I understand her pain. I hate that Brock Turner got a light slap on the wrist for forever changing this woman's life. I admire her for having the courage to do what I could not.
Let's stop blaming victims. Let's start really letting these perverts, these predators, know that they are at fault. And that we as society will no longer stand idly by and just let them do this.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Randomness
Tonight is full of Random thoughts.
For one.... I am ready to leave this neighborhood. I find most of the people here judgmental and pretentious. Not all of them, but most of them. Even some I thought I knew. But hey, that's life.
For another... I have realized I am a hot mess. I don't have all the answers. I don't have it all together. And you know what? THAT IS OKAY!!! I think most of us don't. But we all feel like we need to act like we do. Why? To impress others? In the hope that others won't judge us? Guess what? People are gonna judge you no matter what. And most of those that do, don't know the journey you have been on. They don't know your history. And they don't care. They feel better thinking they are better than you with what very little they do know.
I am finally learning (yes, a little late in life) that it does not matter what others think of you. Truly. You know who you are. Those that do you know you, love you, just as you are. And that is all that matters. Everyone else can kiss your ass.
It's never a fun thing to take a long look at your life, who is in it, and how it's going. It can hurt to realize that those you considered a friend, may not actually be friends. That is never a fun realization to come to. Trust me. But it's worth it.
I have spent the last month or so really looking over my life and who is in it. I am so thankful for those I love and trust, and who accept me as I am.
I am done trying to make new friends and acquaintances. I am happy in my life. I am happy with who is in it. And they are all I need, and all I want.
This may sound bitchy. Oh well. When you have walked in my shoes, been judged, and rejected... you will understand.
I plan on spending my summer with my family and my true friends. God love them for loving me. And God knows how much I love them.
I am who I am. I don't try to be anything else. I am flawed. I own that. I would rather be that... be me... be honest... than pretend. I am a mother who loves her kids. I am a mother who screws it up sometimes. I am a wife who is in love with her husband and is devoted to him. I am a good friend who you can lean on and keeps secrets and is loyal. I am both a hot mess and grounded person. I know, a conundrum, right? Yet true. In some ways, I am still trying to figure it all out. And in other ways, I realize there is no figuring it all out. There is just living, and making memories, and being the best you that you can be in any given moment. And yes, sometimes, you fall short of that. And that's okay too.
I am releasing myself of the obligation of getting to know others and trying to be friend to all. I am releasing myself of thinking that you must be liked. I am owning who I am instead. I will embrace it. I am once again at that point where I no longer give a shit what others think of me.
This is a very freeing thing. It's also a scary thing. For everyone wants to be liked. Everyone hates rejection.
I love fun. I love laughing. I love making memories. I think family comes first. And I also think some familly is not blood related. I love to eat good food. I love good wine. I love to hang out with others I can joke with, laugh with, or be serious with; all in a short amount of time. I love all kinds of music. I love poetry. I hate politics. I adore art in all its forms. I often quote movies and songs. And I adore those that sing along with me or understand the quotes. I believe in 2nd chances. I believe in helping others. I could go on, but what's the point? Those that know me... know me. Those that don't, judge me. God bless'em.
Life is short. This is the ONLY one you get. Be true to you, but always be willing to learn and improve. Never be afraid to take a chance on something good. Make good choices. Make good memories. And always let those you love, know it.
For one.... I am ready to leave this neighborhood. I find most of the people here judgmental and pretentious. Not all of them, but most of them. Even some I thought I knew. But hey, that's life.
For another... I have realized I am a hot mess. I don't have all the answers. I don't have it all together. And you know what? THAT IS OKAY!!! I think most of us don't. But we all feel like we need to act like we do. Why? To impress others? In the hope that others won't judge us? Guess what? People are gonna judge you no matter what. And most of those that do, don't know the journey you have been on. They don't know your history. And they don't care. They feel better thinking they are better than you with what very little they do know.
I am finally learning (yes, a little late in life) that it does not matter what others think of you. Truly. You know who you are. Those that do you know you, love you, just as you are. And that is all that matters. Everyone else can kiss your ass.
It's never a fun thing to take a long look at your life, who is in it, and how it's going. It can hurt to realize that those you considered a friend, may not actually be friends. That is never a fun realization to come to. Trust me. But it's worth it.
I have spent the last month or so really looking over my life and who is in it. I am so thankful for those I love and trust, and who accept me as I am.
I am done trying to make new friends and acquaintances. I am happy in my life. I am happy with who is in it. And they are all I need, and all I want.
This may sound bitchy. Oh well. When you have walked in my shoes, been judged, and rejected... you will understand.
I plan on spending my summer with my family and my true friends. God love them for loving me. And God knows how much I love them.
I am who I am. I don't try to be anything else. I am flawed. I own that. I would rather be that... be me... be honest... than pretend. I am a mother who loves her kids. I am a mother who screws it up sometimes. I am a wife who is in love with her husband and is devoted to him. I am a good friend who you can lean on and keeps secrets and is loyal. I am both a hot mess and grounded person. I know, a conundrum, right? Yet true. In some ways, I am still trying to figure it all out. And in other ways, I realize there is no figuring it all out. There is just living, and making memories, and being the best you that you can be in any given moment. And yes, sometimes, you fall short of that. And that's okay too.
I am releasing myself of the obligation of getting to know others and trying to be friend to all. I am releasing myself of thinking that you must be liked. I am owning who I am instead. I will embrace it. I am once again at that point where I no longer give a shit what others think of me.
This is a very freeing thing. It's also a scary thing. For everyone wants to be liked. Everyone hates rejection.
I love fun. I love laughing. I love making memories. I think family comes first. And I also think some familly is not blood related. I love to eat good food. I love good wine. I love to hang out with others I can joke with, laugh with, or be serious with; all in a short amount of time. I love all kinds of music. I love poetry. I hate politics. I adore art in all its forms. I often quote movies and songs. And I adore those that sing along with me or understand the quotes. I believe in 2nd chances. I believe in helping others. I could go on, but what's the point? Those that know me... know me. Those that don't, judge me. God bless'em.
Life is short. This is the ONLY one you get. Be true to you, but always be willing to learn and improve. Never be afraid to take a chance on something good. Make good choices. Make good memories. And always let those you love, know it.
Saturday, April 30, 2016
Scars
Sometimes horrible things happen in life. You can't change it. You think you have survived it. You think have moved on. And then... a show.. .a movie.. a word... a dream.... It brings it all back. The wound is ripped opened yet again. The scab you thought had healed that wound, wasn't what it seemed. In fact, you have a scar. A scar is a reminder of what was. You may forget it's there sometimes, but eventually something makes you remember again. The pain comes rushing back. The memories you have tried to block. Scars are a constant reminder of what once was.
Scars suck. Especially certain ones that may not always be seen. But you know what else scars mean? They mean you survived.
To all those with scars.... Those who remember and want to forget. To those who survived. We may be haunted, but we live. May our children never know the pain.
Scars suck. Especially certain ones that may not always be seen. But you know what else scars mean? They mean you survived.
To all those with scars.... Those who remember and want to forget. To those who survived. We may be haunted, but we live. May our children never know the pain.
Friday, March 25, 2016
One of those nights....
Easter this year is hard. Flash back 1989 ... Easter.... I remember looking at my dad's empty seat at the table. Almost the entire family was there afterwards. I remember the priest. I remember my mom's words. I remember being told my dad would not make another 24 hours. He didn't. He died the next afternoon. This Easter is the 27th anniversary of his death.
I have never hated any holiday more than I do Easter. I know what it means... Christian wise. But I still hate it. It's hard to make this day good for my kids when even to this day... I hate it. But I try. I like to think I do good by them.
God help me. God help us all.
I have never hated any holiday more than I do Easter. I know what it means... Christian wise. But I still hate it. It's hard to make this day good for my kids when even to this day... I hate it. But I try. I like to think I do good by them.
God help me. God help us all.
Monday, December 21, 2015
Looking Back.......
Christmas is in a few day, and the new year is upon us. And I am looking back over my year, my life.
I can honestly say I think this is the best year I have had in ... 15, 20, ? years. I really don't know how long it's been. But I feel very safe in saying it's been decades. That's not to say I haven't had good years, or bad years. I have my fair share of both. We all have. But I can't remember having one this good in that long. That's saying something.
One of my girls had it rough the past few years. And she is finally coming into her own. She knows who she is (more than most girls her age do), knows where she has made mistakes and has learned from them. She has turned a corner. She smiles, she laughs. She is the happiest I have seen her in 2 or so years. And when your kids are happy, you are happy. She lights up life. All my girls do. I am one proud momma.
And then there is my marriage. I have made it no secret in the past that we had our issues. I am convinced several years ago I was going through some kind of mid-life crisis. We lost our home, we rented a place and met some great people, and some crazy people. I had just had my third child. I felt lost. My marriage was struggling. And all I knew was I was mom. I struggled with who was outside that title of "mom". It's not that I wasn't happy being a mom. I was. But I felt a sort of loss too at the same time. As if somewhere along the road of marriage and kids, I lost who I was. And I didn't know who that was anymore.
My husband understood to a point. He allowed me to go out with some single friends of mine once every few weeks. And I also went out with a group of moms a time or two. It was nice to go out, and pretend to be young again. To know my kids were safe with my husband, and just .... live. I know that sounds lame. But that's how it felt at the time. Like in getting married and starting our family early, I some how missed out on experiences in my younger years. Looking back, I think I tried to make up for "lost time".
Looking back on it, I see what a waste of time it was. Because the truth of the matter was, all I was looking for and needed was at home. We had our issues, but it was there if I could just look past my hurt long enough to see it.
I made some choices during that time I deeply regret. However, I also learned a lot during that time. My husband fought for us, during that time. We weren't a good place, and he was giving me space. But he also fought like hell for me. He told me he wasn't letting me go. He made a vow and he was going to keep it. And that we could work through anything. And he started trying, even though I know put off mixed signals. One minute I loved him for loving me and fighting for us. The next all I could focus on was our issues and my hurt. It was a rocky time for several years for us.
But you know what? We did it. First he fought us. And about the time he got fed up, I started fighting for us. We never both fought for us at the same time. How sad is that? I mean we had talks through the years, tried to work things out, and always ended up back on the same merry-go-round. It was exhausting.
So what changed? Why was this year so different? Where did the merry-go-round go? The truth is, I don't know. I can tell you this, I was done. I was finally done trying to fix it. I was done with all the talks. I was done praying for him to come around, change, see things a certain way... or however you choose to fill in that rather long blank space. I had fought for us for years. I had prayed for years. And I was just done. I truly wanted change no matter what. I wanted us to be happy again.
So I changed my prayers one night. I started praying for God to forgive me all the hurt I caused, and for Him for me forgive myself. I prayed that he would help my husband forgive me. And most of all, the prayer I still say to this very day.... I prayed that He would help me be the spouse he created me to be for my husband. There were no more prayers about changing him. This was about me. No matter if I thought he was to blame or not (needless to say, he most likely thought I was to blame as well. In truth, we were both responsible for the break down in our marriage to some degree). But it wasn't about who was to blame or who needed to change the most. It was about our marriage and the future of our marriage. All that mattered to me in the moment of that prayer, was that we make it. And I would be willing to do whatever to make it happen.
I still pray that prayer. I never told him I prayed it. Not for months. It wasn't until one day he told me he noticed a change in me and thanked me for all my support and understanding over the last few months I told him. It wasn't me, it was God. I just simply prayed that God help me be the spouse my husband needed to be and that I was created to be for him. He was very surprised by that I admitted that.
I do believe that is what changed my marriage around and gave us such a good year. I started listening to that still small voice when it told me to let something go, or to forgive, or to give it to Him. I listened when it said send a encouraging email or text. And slowly as my wonderful, patient, loving husband saw the changes in me (before I confessed my secret), he started to respond with his own changes. Things just started clicking.
We have both grown over this last year. We have many blessings, and we have faced quite a few obstacles. But we did it smoother than ever. We still have our issues from time to time. Who doesn't? But we work through them better. We communicate better.
So tonight, as I look back over the years, I hate to see the pain we both felt and caused. I hate to remember some of the choices we made. But I am so very thankful for where we are now. It made it all worth it.
For anyone out there going through a rough a time, don't give up. If you are a person of faith, pray for guidance. Believe me when I say we (hubby and I) have been through hell and back. It is possible to come out on the other side all the better. And believe me when I say if you feel lost in life, you aren't gonna find yourself out drinking and partying. That is not you. You aren't missing a thing!! That is NOT what life is about. When you are on your deathbed, you aren't gonna give two shits about how much you went you out, how much you partied, how much "fun" you had. What is going to matter is the love you had and shared. Your family. And the memories with those who truly know you and care about you. You will regret the hurt you caused those you love. You will regret not forgiving more. At least, that is the conclusion I came too. Life is about love. About sharing it with others, and learning to receive it. It is in that love that you make your memories.
I thank God for my really good year. And I pray for more ahead.
I can honestly say I think this is the best year I have had in ... 15, 20, ? years. I really don't know how long it's been. But I feel very safe in saying it's been decades. That's not to say I haven't had good years, or bad years. I have my fair share of both. We all have. But I can't remember having one this good in that long. That's saying something.
One of my girls had it rough the past few years. And she is finally coming into her own. She knows who she is (more than most girls her age do), knows where she has made mistakes and has learned from them. She has turned a corner. She smiles, she laughs. She is the happiest I have seen her in 2 or so years. And when your kids are happy, you are happy. She lights up life. All my girls do. I am one proud momma.
And then there is my marriage. I have made it no secret in the past that we had our issues. I am convinced several years ago I was going through some kind of mid-life crisis. We lost our home, we rented a place and met some great people, and some crazy people. I had just had my third child. I felt lost. My marriage was struggling. And all I knew was I was mom. I struggled with who was outside that title of "mom". It's not that I wasn't happy being a mom. I was. But I felt a sort of loss too at the same time. As if somewhere along the road of marriage and kids, I lost who I was. And I didn't know who that was anymore.
My husband understood to a point. He allowed me to go out with some single friends of mine once every few weeks. And I also went out with a group of moms a time or two. It was nice to go out, and pretend to be young again. To know my kids were safe with my husband, and just .... live. I know that sounds lame. But that's how it felt at the time. Like in getting married and starting our family early, I some how missed out on experiences in my younger years. Looking back, I think I tried to make up for "lost time".
Looking back on it, I see what a waste of time it was. Because the truth of the matter was, all I was looking for and needed was at home. We had our issues, but it was there if I could just look past my hurt long enough to see it.
I made some choices during that time I deeply regret. However, I also learned a lot during that time. My husband fought for us, during that time. We weren't a good place, and he was giving me space. But he also fought like hell for me. He told me he wasn't letting me go. He made a vow and he was going to keep it. And that we could work through anything. And he started trying, even though I know put off mixed signals. One minute I loved him for loving me and fighting for us. The next all I could focus on was our issues and my hurt. It was a rocky time for several years for us.
But you know what? We did it. First he fought us. And about the time he got fed up, I started fighting for us. We never both fought for us at the same time. How sad is that? I mean we had talks through the years, tried to work things out, and always ended up back on the same merry-go-round. It was exhausting.
So what changed? Why was this year so different? Where did the merry-go-round go? The truth is, I don't know. I can tell you this, I was done. I was finally done trying to fix it. I was done with all the talks. I was done praying for him to come around, change, see things a certain way... or however you choose to fill in that rather long blank space. I had fought for us for years. I had prayed for years. And I was just done. I truly wanted change no matter what. I wanted us to be happy again.
So I changed my prayers one night. I started praying for God to forgive me all the hurt I caused, and for Him for me forgive myself. I prayed that he would help my husband forgive me. And most of all, the prayer I still say to this very day.... I prayed that He would help me be the spouse he created me to be for my husband. There were no more prayers about changing him. This was about me. No matter if I thought he was to blame or not (needless to say, he most likely thought I was to blame as well. In truth, we were both responsible for the break down in our marriage to some degree). But it wasn't about who was to blame or who needed to change the most. It was about our marriage and the future of our marriage. All that mattered to me in the moment of that prayer, was that we make it. And I would be willing to do whatever to make it happen.
I still pray that prayer. I never told him I prayed it. Not for months. It wasn't until one day he told me he noticed a change in me and thanked me for all my support and understanding over the last few months I told him. It wasn't me, it was God. I just simply prayed that God help me be the spouse my husband needed to be and that I was created to be for him. He was very surprised by that I admitted that.
I do believe that is what changed my marriage around and gave us such a good year. I started listening to that still small voice when it told me to let something go, or to forgive, or to give it to Him. I listened when it said send a encouraging email or text. And slowly as my wonderful, patient, loving husband saw the changes in me (before I confessed my secret), he started to respond with his own changes. Things just started clicking.
We have both grown over this last year. We have many blessings, and we have faced quite a few obstacles. But we did it smoother than ever. We still have our issues from time to time. Who doesn't? But we work through them better. We communicate better.
So tonight, as I look back over the years, I hate to see the pain we both felt and caused. I hate to remember some of the choices we made. But I am so very thankful for where we are now. It made it all worth it.
For anyone out there going through a rough a time, don't give up. If you are a person of faith, pray for guidance. Believe me when I say we (hubby and I) have been through hell and back. It is possible to come out on the other side all the better. And believe me when I say if you feel lost in life, you aren't gonna find yourself out drinking and partying. That is not you. You aren't missing a thing!! That is NOT what life is about. When you are on your deathbed, you aren't gonna give two shits about how much you went you out, how much you partied, how much "fun" you had. What is going to matter is the love you had and shared. Your family. And the memories with those who truly know you and care about you. You will regret the hurt you caused those you love. You will regret not forgiving more. At least, that is the conclusion I came too. Life is about love. About sharing it with others, and learning to receive it. It is in that love that you make your memories.
I thank God for my really good year. And I pray for more ahead.
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