Dear Me

Hey. Welcome to year 35. Year 34 was tough. Chin up cupcake, you got this.

I know your searching for answers you're afraid you'll never find. Some things will always remain a mystery. Life is messy and complicated. Some days it's tragic and some days it's beautiful. You've got to decide what to hang on to.

2017 came and you're still single. That's really ok. Keep working on yourself. You're good enough for anyone just the way you are, but continue to evolve. Let yourself grow. I know you're afraid that you will never find anyone that wants you. It's ok if you don't. You'll hate it, the loneliness will overwhelm you. You'll have nights you cry yourself to sleep because you feel incomplete. Keep moving forward. Loneliness is not the end of the world. I know how inadequate you feel. I know when you look in the mirror you ache because you doubt everything you see. You see fat, ugly, loud, annoying, clingy, moody, etc. Learn to accept and not hate. You are what you are meant to be. I know this is a battle you feel you will never win, but please don't think that being in a relationship will amend a negative self image. It won't. Be open to either path. Not all of us were made to have a significant other.

I'm so glad you went back to school. I see how smart you are. Especially when you apply yourself. Believe in you. You are intelligent, but you get in your own way with self doubt. Your degree will be finished before you know it. More than anything I want you to walk across a stage at graduation. You told me that was your dream. Get it. Do it. Don't feel foolish because you're 35. It doesn't matter, take what's yours and own it.

Your kids are amazing. I love those little gypsies. Thank you for giving them a free spirit. For encouraging their creativity and for giving them an unorthodox childhood full of strange and wonderful things. Give yourself some credit. You're doing fine. Everyone has bad days. You've only got a little bit of time before they don't need you as much. Give them their independence. They are kind, loving, and responsible children. They will make you proud. And please chill out over the mess. It's not that big of a deal.

Your Uncle Ken once told you to stop making things harder than they are. The world will continue you to exist and control is elusive. Stop toiling. You are wearing your self out and changing nothing. Quit worrying; stop overthinking.

Insecurity is a big part of your life. Quit it. It does not matter what others think. You are not here to serve them. You were created to serve God. Start valuing his opinion more than you do others. I do t have to tell you this. And please, spread his gospel. Don't let your fear of rejection keep you from obedience. This is the hardest lesson you've had to learn...keep working on it.

I also want you to let go of jealousy. You have a personality that some find abrasive. You do not have to be liked by everyone you meet. If they walk away from you, let them go. You will value some who do not value you as much. That has nothing to do with your self worth. Stop wanting what others have or what you think they have. Be content with you and what you have. Your life is far better than you imagined it would be.

This is a brand new year. You've got so much to do. Please, I beg of you, love yourself. Even if it's just a little.

Love always,
Me

That tastes bitter on my tongue

It's 10:30 on a Tuesday night. Pretty routine...I'm camped out in front of the computer with my ear buds in trying desperately to stay above the pile of homework I have. Nothing big happened today, besides the toilet going on the fritz. I can feel it creeping in...that sense of loneliness that eats at my soul.

I have not been on a date in over 10 years. No one has bought me dinner, took me to a movie, sent me flowers, or anything like that. Most days I do not care. I do those things for myself. If I want dinner I make it. If I want to watch a movie, I go see it. If I want flowers, I get them. It's not the gifts that I desire. It's the effort. I just want someone to want me enough to give of themselves to me.

I'm coming up on three years single. It's been such a short time, yet has drug on for an eternity. I have learned so much about myself. I have healed some. I know I'm still broken in places and will be for the rest of my life. Not just from my marriage, but from life. This is not a post about how I hurt or looking for attention for myself. It's a stark truth of what an overweight, insecure, soccer mom deals with personally in the dating world.

I'm a giver. I will give and give and give, until it drains me. I will buy you things, take you with me places, help pay your bills, cook for you, etc. I will give of myself until I have nothing left to give you, just to reassure you that you are important to me. I love to give people presents. I'm impulsive about it. If I walk by something that reminds me of you, I will most likely purchase it for you. I have always been that way. It is one of the quickest ways to experience rejection. People think if you buy them something, that you are binding yourself to them emotionally. That's not necessarily true. Just because I buy you a t shirt, does not mean I plan on growing old with you....its a damn shirt....that's it.

I also am a giver of time. I will spend endless hours with you for the interaction. I'm naturally drawn to people. I hate being alone. Ironically, I spend the majority of my time alone. I have been told my house is too far out of town to come and hang out. I literally live two miles out of town. These past months have been excessively tough to deal with for me. Many weekends, I have lain on my couch and no one texts or calls. I know it sounds stupid to feel that way, but the conversations I had during those days were because I pushed for them. I texted first. I kept the conversation going. I have tried so damn hard.

Since we are all adults here, I'll be starkly honest. I'm also a giver of my body. I haven't dated anyone. Not one single person. However, I haven't been "pure". That's a personal choice. Sex outside of a relationship is exactly what you would think. It's fun, it's easy, it requires zero emotion. It feels good. It also leaves your arms empty and your heart heavy at times. There's nothing like looking at yourself the next morning and realizing your were good enough to fuck, but not good enough to be in a relationship with. And most of the time, you're good enough to pleasure him, but don't you dare let anyone know. He has a reputation to keep, after all. These are moments I don't feel great about, but I won't lie and say I'll never do it again.

We all know, I'm not my favorite person. I see a mess when I see me. I see nothing but trouble and baggage. I'm so very needy. I couldn't even fix the damn toilet today. I know the dark bitter parts of my soul. I know how insecure and jealous I am. I know that if I were to be with someone, I do not have what it takes to compete to keep their attention on me.

My God, I ache at night. I sleep every night diagonally in my bed. Face down. I sleep best when I'm alone. Yet, I lay in that bed at night wondering where my person is. Some nights I drift right off. I'm able to push away the ache for human contact. Other nights, I lay in that bad and cry until I can't cry anymore. I pace. I play on Facebook. I eat. Anything just to distract myself.

Here's the irony. I really don't want anyone. It's so much work. Relationships are complicated and messy. And time consuming. I will NEVER get married again. Like ever. I hate marriage. I hate coexisting. I hate sharing. I don't want to paint the walls in a color we agreed on, I want to paint them my way. I don't want to wash your laundry, clean up your mess, or argue about money. I don't want you in my business or telling me who I can be friends with. And I don't want to hear how if I wasn't neurotic, or messy, or lazy, or fat, or a mom, or tattooed, or whatever, that you could want me or love me more.

I'm not even sure what my point is.

I'm done giving. I'm done trying. I'm just done. I cannot afford to offer myself to anyone anymore. I'm sure I'll get all the "Jesus" comments. Jesus loves you the way you crave. Jesus is there for you. Seek his face and you will not hurt or be lonely. I stand rock solidly on my faith and belief in Jesus Christ and his sacrifice for my life. I still long for someone that wants me.

All I have ever wanted is to be wanted.

Good night.....

Two years

Two whole years. Time moves fast. 

In January of 2014 I stood in front of my bathroom mirror considering ending my life. It wasn't the first time I'd been to that point. I made the decision to call it quits.

For months I had been sleeping alone in my bed. Him on the couch. I hated going places together. I didn't like being around him. And most of the time we fought; bitterly and viciously. I was done. 

The next eight months were chaotic. Trying to make it. Lawyers. Fighting over everything. I knew the moment I said I was done I would leave with what was mine and give him our home. I've been asked again and again why I didn't fight for the house. I hated it there. So many ugly things had happened there. And he built that house with his own hands, I didn't want to take that from him. 

August rolled around and the day came. My friend Christine came to be my support. I sat watching other marriages dissolve until it was time for mine. It only took about fifteen minutes. Almost 10 years gone in a flash. 

Fast forward two years. I'm in a small rental. But it's mine. I do what I want here. It's home to me. It's success. It's liberation. No one tells me what to do. If it's a mess, it's because I keep it that way. That seems so trivial. And kind of dumb. 

Everyone views divorce as a tragedy. It does truly suck. However for some of us, it's the day we chose ourselves. You can call me selfish. Say I didn't consider my kids. I really don't care. This was the best decision for me.

I had hoped by now I would have found "love." I haven't. Pretty sure I never will. I'm so lonely some nights I cry myself to sleep. I'm terrified of men. If I'm given a compliment I think they are lying and probably just making fun of me because I'm fat and seem desperate. Loving yourself is so very hard.

This week is bittersweet for me. I'm happy to be out of my marriage. It was so unhealthy. I'm also sad because I'm so alone. It's hard for others to understand. Being lonely is far better than being in a horrible relationship. 

I feel like I'm running out of time. My biggest fear has always been that I'd be alone with no one to love me. I'm here right where I always didn't want to be. Its ok most days. Not near as bad as I thought. I'm doing just fine. 

Healing takes time. I see myself as unworthy. I truly believe that if I meet someone and they get to know me,all of my faults will overpower any good parts of me. 

I'm fat. There really is no other way to describe it. My skin sags. My boobs sag. I have cellulite. My ass is dimply. My teeth are spaced. I have a retarded amount of freckles. There are stretch marks on damn near every inch of my body. My feet are too big and I don't have toenails on my big toes due to a surgical procedure. I don't look good when I wear yoga pants. I eat too much. I'm needy. My feelings get hurt very easily. I love booze and can be an annoying drunk. I curse like a sailor. I yell a lot. My mind never ever shuts up. I have the worlds shittiest credit right now. And some days I don't comb my hair. 

I cannot image anyone wanting that. And they don't. It's been proven time and time again. This has been the hardest part of my journey; knowing I'm not marriage or relationship material. It takes a lot of effort to turn your mind away from that desire. To just be by yourself and not want companionship and affection. 

I have heard it all. "He's out there." "When you like yourself, you'll find someone."  "Change those bad parts of you and someone will want you." "No ones ever going to want you unless you change your behavior." "You could have a man if you were different." "You have a pretty face, but I'm just not attracted to your body." "I don't want a relationship with you. But we can have sex this once." "You have too many issues." "You're crazy, nuts, insane, etc." 

I don't want to change. It's as if the whole world says, "I could love you if..."  

If what? I'll never be enough. I don't pretend to think I will. 

So I'll continue this journey. I'll survive because I don't know how to do anything else. I'll cook. I'll dance. I'll write. And I'll do it by myself. And that's ok. 

I'd rather go blind

I have always wanted to write songs. To watch my words blend with a melody. I want to hear my soul pour out in poetry, to watch and feel my heart in the black and white keys of a piano and in vibrations of the guitar strings....but I can't do it. 

I've sang songs others have wrote. I don't hear music...I feel it...in pictures and colors and heartbeats. I can close my eyes and let the pain and joy flow from my body. I can make you feel what I feel. But I can't write a song. 

I'm always standing on the edge of darkness...waiting for the fall. I laugh. I smile. I comfort others but I cannot comfort myself...I've told you before, feelings suck. 

It's hell being chased by your own demons. There's no peace...and there's no one there but you. It's lonely. It's like flood water rushing behind you...all consuming. 

These are the words I need out. These are the lyrics I need on paper...I need to sing them to free them. 

These thoughts don't make sense to everyone. They're confusing. Weird. Strange. To me, they're my creative outlet. My way to express and heal. 

Tonight I found my musical soul mate...her voice full of emotion. Pain. Love. Anger. Desperation. Happiness.

I learned she's not much different than me. Chased by her own demons. With a past that isn't straight, narrow, or pure. And I found a home in her music...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vCOIRmDi4w

Maybe I'll find a way to get these words out in the form of a song. Or maybe I'll keep journaling them in entries that will only make sense to me. Maybe my kids will read them when they are adults so they'll understand me. And maybe someday I'll put them all in a book. 

For now I'll ramble. I'll float. And I'll fly....

The Girlfriend

It has happened. The day I secretly hoped would never come. My kids dad has a girlfriend. I fiercely protective of my kids and I hate the thought of someone else being around them. I'm also insecure and I want my kids to only need me.

A few weeks ago I showed up to ball practice and there she was holding my Shelbie. I was taken aback just a bit. Anxiety hit me like a ton of bricks. Here I was in the exact place I had dreaded because I had no clue how to handle it. I sat over on the bench and tried not to blatantly stare...but I failed...I'm nosy and I needed to see.

By the end of practice we had spoken to each other and she was polite and nice. When Shiloh asked if she could ride with her instead of me, I said yes, but secretly my heart ached. I want them with me. She's been to other practices. We usually sit close to each other and our kids play together. I cannot complain in anyway about how she treats my kids. And I actually like her.

Am I jealous? In ways I suppose. I would never ever want to enter back into a relationship with my kids father...it just would never work. But I hear those voices in my head. "She's skinnier than you." And she is. "She's everything you weren't." I don't even know if that's true because I don't know her, but I know she has similar interests to my ex. Things I never enjoyed. "The kids like her more than you." I am and always will be their mom. I am the bad guy sometimes. I make them do chores and homework. I ground them when they misbehave. But there is no love like the love of your mom.

I'm trying to be ok. Yet I have moments where it kills me. I feel inadequate. Fat. Stupid. Ugly. I sit and wonder why he has found someone and I have Hank the Wonder Dog. The petty parts of me want to tell her not to touch my kids and refuse to let her be around them, but I have no reason to do that. Sometimes I want to pull her aside and say "watch yourself, he isn't what he seems." I won't, because that's unfair to them. He should be happy. He should have love, if that's what he wants.

It feels strange to sit together at events. Tonight we went to my son's Kindergarten concert. We all sat together with the kids alternating between laps. She took pictures and videos because my phone was dead. We all walked out together and made plans for the next day. She's going to send me the pictures and videos. I don't know how they feel about all this. I just try to maintain peace and civility. It really isn't hard because she is so likeable.

I'm here on my couch. Lonely as hell. My kids just stopped by to get their clothes for tomorrow. Being divorced sucks. Being married sucked more. This is not the life I chose. I did not plan to be divorced. I'm at peace over that decision. It's the consequences that are killing me now.

I truly believe I will always be alone. I'm overweight. I'm a soccer mom. I'm needy and whiny. I have a low tolerance for chewing noises. I'm afraid of fireworks, guns, balloons, and snakes. I have shitty credit. I don't believe I have anything to offer. I feel like I could never maintain a man's attention and I don't want to have to fight to keep a man. My heart aches for my person, but I will never let them in because I can't take being hurt again. So I will always be just me.

I'm sure they will read this. We all have mutual friends and I have one particular family member that makes it their soul duty to report to my ex husband anything I post.  It sends my paranoia into overdrive. What is everyone saying about me? Are they all plotting against me? Are they going to try and take my kids away from me? It's torture. Do I envy her? Yes. My insecure mind puts her superior to me and I want to win. Am I going to give her and him a chance? Absolutely. He's not mine anymore, and he never really was. Keep him. And on the off chance I'm no longer able to take care of my children for whatever reason,  I want to know they are cared for by someone I would choose.

Here's to new girlfriends, insecure minds, and this divorced and slightly crazy life....

An open letter to the men I wasn't good enough for

I went bowling last night. It wasn't a terrible time, in fact it was great. I was with friends and family and I bowled the worst I've ever bowled. About 6 frames into the game, you invaded my mind and I hate you for it. 

You've told me I wasn't good enough. I'm too tall. Too fat. Too loud. Too needy. And a variety of other "too" things. I hear your voice and remember your words almost daily. 

I've always doubted myself. I've always hated the way I look, the sound of my voice, my face...I've hated it all. So you not appreciating me came as no shock to me. I completely understand. 

I've been broken and damaged for a long time. I never asked you to understand that, just have some compassion. I never demanded that you actually be attracted to me, but I've hoped you would. 

I see you sometimes with other women. And I wonder what I did so wrong that I wasn't good enough and she was. You've told me I care too much and sometimes you've told me I didn't care enough. The truth is I'm afraid. 

I don't trust you. Probably never will. But there's a part of me that really wants to and it scares me to hope you are really genuine. But I know you're not. 

So here's how I feel about you. 

1. I liked you. That's why I texted you. Yes I know it's a lot, but I like to talk. If you didn't like it you should have just said. Ignoring my texts is rude and childish...

2. I know you can find someone hotter than me. Don't sit and lie to me or remind me that other women are more beautiful. Go get em tiger...I sure as hell don't want you.

3. Yes I'm messy. And cluttery. But it's my damn house and car. And I'm busy a lot. If your so concerned about how I keep my house feel free to go back to yours where you can do what you want. 

4. No I do not want pictures of your dick or to be your friend-with-benefits. I haven't always respected myself...but I'm getting there. I won't cheapen myself for you. If you're looking for a whore I hear you can find them in the truck stop parking lot...

5. Screw you. And your stupid crap and game playing. I am not a gem. I'm moody, sensitive, and needy. Those are not the worst qualities a woman can have...

6. I tolerated a lot from some of you. You're obnoxious need to be first at everything. You're lying. You're taking and not giving back. You're expecting me to tolerate everything you do and change everything about myself. I've lost my patience...if you want some like that, call your mama.

I let myself wallow in the feelings. I have zero self worth. Those feelings weren't caused by you, but in my mind I felt your actions validated them. And I can't do this anymore. 

So to those of you who didn't and don't want me because I'm not good enough....you are wrong...I'm perfectly good enough for anything...And if you didn't see that it's not my loss....

I'd rather spend my life alone being myself than constantly trying to change...

So thank you for not wanting me...without you I've learned to love alone...even when it hurts.

Breath

The human body. It's existence is astonishing. A complex mixture of organs, systems, and processes. Able to withstand unimaginable things, yet so fragile.

Working labor and delivery is like guarding the gate of life and keeping shut the gate of death. That sounds so dramatic, but that's because it is. 

I've seen a lot through my years there. Things I'm proud to say I was a part of and bad things I wish I could unsee. Birth is beautiful, mesmerizing, exciting, messy, and the biggest high ever. I work a job now, but on L&D I worked a passion. 

Hearing that first cry of a newborn is one of my favorite sounds. I get excited now as I write. I've even held my breath sitting at my desk while patients were pushing. I cannot ever describe the joy that fills me from those experiences.

But the world must have balance. For every moment of joy, there's a moment of sheer heartbreak. I've never experienced the heartbreak of losing my child. I'm terrified of it. I don't ever want to experience those feelings. And yet I understand. 

Death at times seems so unnecessary. So unfair. I hate it. There are women whose faces I might not remember but I still hear their cries over a baby they didn't get to take home. I can still remember the first baby I held that had passed. I've taken pictures of babies that fit in the palm of my hand. I've cried in the bathroom floor, in the arms of my coworkers, and with patients who needed someone to cry with them. 

Today I read this.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10106715263120739&set=a.781646666719.2582079.6808766&type=3

It's earth shattering. Truth at its bare core. And I ache for her from the very depths of my soul. And I'm angry. 

I have never believed in abortion. When I was younger it was because I was taught it was wrong. I couldn't have argued my case. Now I know my reasons. 

In Jeremiah 1:5 the bible says, "Before I formed you in your mothers womb, I knew you." I believe whole heartedly life begins at conception. That in the womb the baby is living. No they don't breathe air, but their body is forming and growing. I believe abortion kills. 

In my adulthood I understand the reasons why some choose that path. I have compassion on those in hopeless situations and I'm angry at those who don't have the common sense to prevent an unwanted pregnancy.

Today I'm angry for those who have longed to love and hold their baby and can't. I'm angry at those who don't validate their stillborn children as a human life because it justifies their pro-choice ideals. I'm angry that there's controversy over whether or not a government funded program is selling body parts of aborted infants. I'm angry that doctors and nurses don't get to choose life when they can't find the heartbeat. And I'm angry that I live in a society that allows "human beings" to be so butt hurt over a commercial that a grieving mother feels the echo of her loss in a profound way. 

You don't have to believe what I believe. You don't have to like me. Live your life. You know the one where you started out a human in your mothers womb; with a heartbeat, a functioning brain, lungs that practiced breathing, and a body that required nutrients to survive. And I'll live mine.