Tag Archives: love

Burying pain with kindness

06 Wednesday May 2015

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Let me start by wishing all of you Mommy’s out there a happy Mother’s day! I hope those of you who struggle regularly with the general lack of acceptance of you as a “real” mother, have someone out there this weekend who will call, or write, or text you “Happy Mother’s Day!” In case you do not, let me be the first to honor you, all that you do, all of your heartache, all of your sacrifice, all of your tears of joy and pain; let me be the first to honor you, and wish you a beautiful, blessed Mother’s Day.

I have been crushed through my core in the past. I have been hurt in ways that even my anger couldn’t conjure a cursing riddled with my experiences against another person. I’ve fought and clawed my way back from pain that I shouldn’t have known. Because of my fight for me, I struggle with believing in others. I often struggle with believing in humanity as a good and kind body, capable of honesty and value and positive impact. My career dampens my faith in others ever more, showing me daily the cruel, selfish, and self-serving side of our futures. Trust is a priceless commodity for me, and it takes years to acquire it.

Quite expectedly, it takes moments to shatter what trust you may have stored in your cache of me. I have been building, and working, and fighting for trust to surround me. I have limited my circle to very few, count maybe two hands (including my family). I recently welcomed a few into my circle, believing, having faith that I could trust in them. Believing that they supported me, supported us, what we are trying so desperately to do. I am heart-broken at the loss. I searched frantically for a text-book response to my hurt. Searching for a way to put my heart back together. Angry at how easily I’ve allowed yet another human being to get close enough to crush me. Shocked at my naivety that maybe they wouldn’t. I can’t go back into that black hole. I can’t come back from that darkness again. I never want to be surrounded by that kind of sad emptiness. I can respond differently. I can be stronger. I can bury my pain with kindness, even though you would say they don’t deserve my kindness.

I went out for a bottle of wine. And came back with supplies to make homemade Mother’s Day presents. One for each Mommy in her life. The grandma’s included. She is so excited to be making gifts. So ecstatic to pick out paper to wrap them in. So joyful to have something to give to those she loves on this blessed day to honor Mothers.  So beautiful as her eyes light up in understanding as she points to herself whispering “My Mommy” when I say, “And who is the best Mommy in the world that we should make the most special gift for?” Such accepting, beautiful, wonder and fascination in “our” little secret. No, these are not my Mothers, these women have managed to level a pain against me that I don’t fully understand, can’t fully process beyond my very rare tears. No, these Mothers are wonder and beauty and loving and kind to her. So in my pain, the only thing I can do to continue forward, is to repay in kindness and honor who they are in her life with love.mother-429158_640

Choosing your life

22 Wednesday Apr 2015

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Most of my life, fell in my lap.

I stumbled into my job right out of college. I stumbled into relationships. I stumbled into promotions from success. I’ve been good at most things I try. Not number one, but good. My therapist says I need to try guided meditation and envisioning therapy. Like, visualize your goal and you succeeding at it. I’ve never really had a goal. I’ve just been doing. And if I ever had a goal, did I really work that hard to succeed at it? Or did it just come naturally?

I know you are sitting there thinking, wow, think highly of yourself?

I don’t.

We’ve been talking about moving lately. We’ve put it off and put it off for one reason or another. I do well with deadlines, and there is no deadline for moving. There’s no promotion or transfer at work. There’s no lease about to expire. There’s just the need for quality of life improvement. I need to be closer to work. I need to spend less time in my car. Although, on good traffic days, that hour is nice to just sit and ponder over things I don’t have time to wonder about.

We discussed moving the other night and he has been emphatic about this being the natural next step. My perception is that he is quite cavalier about it. Very much taking for granted that this is a choice. For once, we actually can choose. I don’t think people realize that every day they have the choice. Instead we make assumptions about life, and just continue on in our routine never stopping to say, “wait, do I want to keep doing this?” For us there are so many things that make that a scary question no one wants to ask.

Well of course we are going to keep going in this relationship. It would be hard to explain why we aren’t to Peanut. It makes sense to continue. We coexist well together. We help each other. We this, we that. At the end of the day, how many of you can honestly say, “I wake up every morning and choose to be with you”?

I asked this question of both of us, and we discovered some truth here. Neither one of us wakes up everyday and says, “I’m making a choice. I choose you.” With divorce rates in this country at a ridiculous high, no freaking wonder! I read this man’s story about wanting a divorce and started to wonder myself. He asks his wife for a divorce and she makes one demand: he must carry her from their bedroom every morning for one month, then she will agree to a divorce. In the end he falls in love with her again after making the commitment to her every morning. Are we making a commitment every day? I know we are sacrificing. Lord knows, we are challenged and sacrificing on a daily basis. I complain I have no choice, no say, no freedom anymore. This is one choice I can still make everyday. And by waking up and making that choice every morning, I am actively committed. I am actively choosing to stay together. I’m not reacting to the latest round of crap. I’m not doing damage control to piece it together. I am choosing, first thing, to be here, be present, and be a member of this family. Perhaps if I make the choice to be in this family, I can forgive myself for the heartache I’ve brought on myself by being in this family. It is still my choice. Everyday, it is still my choice to be here. So rather than feel trapped by external factors, some days I can feel empowered, I chose this. I’m strong enough, and this was my choice today.

Choice

http://www.godupdates.com/he-wanted-a-divorce-but-her-secret-brought-me-to-tears/

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/85608594@N00/12024129713″>Deepak Chopra No matter what the situation, remind yourself I have a choice</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/”>(license)</a&gt;

I think I’m the invisible grinch

09 Tuesday Dec 2014

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Well this is the stuff of nightmares. I have Christmas lights, we’re going to get our tree, there are stockings hung by the fire with care. And my heart is heavy with anger and sadness. It is overwhelming my favorite type of cheer. I can’t seem to get out from under it. It’s a constant uphill battle and I’m losing. I’m losing badly, not graciously or in some sort of movie star classy way, I am flat-out getting my ass handed to me by anger.
I have logic. My brain knows. My brain says, “you become entrenched in what you scheme about”. And I can’t stop it. I just, I want to knock people off their illusioned pedestals.

And you thought this was about Christmas cheer. Christmas is my number one favorite holiday, and I am struggling through it. This is our first “real” Christmas together, and I already have so much anxiety over how it’s going to get jacked up. Will we have Peanut for Christmas? Will we have enough time to finish making all of her presents for my family and his? Will I be able to get all of the cookies made? Will we have time to shop for our family Christmas party? Yes, the one we are having a week early just to ensure some of my holiday tradition remains steadily intact.  Will we this? Will we that? Will we? Will we? Will we?

Will I?

I recently got to experience my first official “non-existent” moment in this whole step parenting game. Due to circumstances beyond my control I had to leave an event for Peanut early, which resulted in her getting her picture taken with all sides of the families, all the while she was asking where I was. When she got home and I got home we took pictures together to make up for it. It was then that I was informed of the mommy/daddy photo-op that had taken place in my absence. Poof. As though I never existed. Feel free to judge me on this one. I make no excuses for the hurt I felt and that horrible left-out feeling I got from it. I don’t even deny the jealousy that tore through my heart as I realized while I was taking care of everyone else, everyone but Peanut pretended I didn’t exist. I don’t know how to explain the combination of frustration, rage, sadness, and isolation that moment gave me. I keep having these moments, in escalating order, that make me want to throw my hands in the air and call “Uncle”.

I read a well written paper on the dangers of social media which referenced the term FOMO, “feelings of missing out”. The idea is that social media, among other things, has become such an addiction of “staying informed” and “included” that people are having strong reactions to missing out. This was my FOMO moment. As seems to be typical for us, here I was once again running all over God’s creation trying to make sure everything was done, everyone’s needs were met, and I was missing out on something important. I was missing the opportunity to be recognized as an involved human. As a thing that actually exists in this messed up family dynamic we are struggling to develop. And I missed it. Poof. I didn’t exist to anyone in that moment.

Did I need to?

I existed to Peanut. Granted, I disappointed her by not being there in that moment. But I existed to her. I realize that I need to dig deep and be a stronger person, and that much of this anxiety and sadness comes from a lack of confidence in who I am and my place in my world, our world. I should not need to be recognized by everyone. I should not need to be accepted by those who I do not seek a bond with. But I do. And I don’t know another way to be right now. And that’s the simple truth. I’m a different kind of Grinch. My heart isn’t two sizes too small, it’s much too big and trying to love everyone as much as it can. As a result, my heart is over worked and poorly rested and daily conking out on me. How do we fit self-love into all the other loving we need to do? Can I do this in my sleep?

 

I’m not strong enough

02 Tuesday Dec 2014

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I’m uncertain as I start this, if there will be a happy finish; if there is to be a moral to the story, or uplifting message in the end. As of yet, I have not intended my writing to go the direction it has gone, it just sort of, happened.

I believe I’ve lost my connection and relationship with God. Not severed or destroyed, just drifted away. I’ve been angry for a long time, and I remember the last two times I was feeling as I have lately, and I had weakened my relationship with God. The first time, I was young and very angry with him. I chose to separate from him. What resulted was a very long and very dark year of my life, that ended in a very harsh and awful lesson. What became of that year, is the strength you see now. I still carry that time with me, ashamed, hurt, guilty, and saddened by it. But, I am incredibly strong and capable because of it.

The second time I lost my way, was not on purpose. It casually slipped away in the chaos of life. I was busy with work, with a home, with family, with friends, with my own emotional turmoil in trying to believe and trust in another human being. I lost my way. What resulted was an inability to trust and communicate with my partner. A passive aggressive relationship that ultimately spiralled downward into its own shrapnel loaded explosion.

And here I am now, feeling hopeless and inadequate. Wondering how do I continue? How do I find my way through this heartbreaking scenario day in and day out for the rest of my life? How do I manage to stay calm, level-headed, and rise above the pettiness of others on a daily basis? How do I accept that things will not improve? They will just change their shape and present in a new format. I cannot change others. I struggle to believe when they say they want to change. I try to have faith in human ability to self improve. I am struggling to believe in the wrong thing first.

I was given advice on a particularly difficult night of stress and frustration with this person. I was told that above all else, as humans, we are called to love. How do you love someone who continues to hurt you? How do you love someone who goes after your family? How do you love someone in spite of everything they’ve become, when you know nothing of who they were? How do you do this for the rest of your life? I’m not strong enough to do this!

And to all of these questions came this response:

You may not be able to love this person yourself, you may struggle to be civil. So love them as God would, because they are one of his own.

This is not easy. It is not easy for me to repair my relationship with God. It is not easy for me to ask anyone for help. So today, as I sipped my coffee and thought about doing nothing really all day at work, unmotivated and uninterested, a thought popped into my head: I should pray and ask for motivation to do what is best today. I sat down at my desk and had a timid conversation with God before starting work. I asked him ultimately for strength to be a better version of me today. I turned on my music and hit shuffle on nearly 600 songs, and this one played the moment I came back in my office and sat down:

“I know I’m not strong enough to be everything I’m supposed to be. I give up. I’m not strong enough. Hands of mercy won’t you cover me. Lord right now I’m asking you to be strong enough, for the both of us.”

I haven’t had a real conversation with Him in a very long time, and without argument or blame or judgement, He responds. Perhaps if I let Him love me, I can learn to love as he does; without expectation.

“Strong Enough” -Matthew West