Entry date: 6.20.17
As my little girl grows, and so do our experiences; I question if there is a certain, right of way to becoming “mom”. I know I am not the first to feel these feelings of inadequacy. Even as other complement us on our style, on the way we are moving forward. I still feel like, somewhere along the line, she could be doing better.
I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I’m depressed, but I do feel sadness sometimes. I feel guilt, over the consequences of my decisions. Maybe, things could have changed if I stayed. Perhaps, not. Some days feel like I quit early on, other days feel like we left just in time. We will, truly never know. I’m having a hard time, letting that thought go.
Till’ this very day, I don’t feel ready.
The instant it happened I knew. I have always been in tune with my body and the way I feel. I can feel a sickness coming on, and I almost always can guess the day of my period. So the instant it was just a bit late, I knew. Plus my recklessness with this man was sure to burn. Surely enough, not surprisingly enough, it happened. So the instant it happened, I knew. All the signs, and tests were true.
The science behind how it happened is nothing new. Bird and the bees, and now she’s three. But I am still feeling like I’m not ready to be everything the title MOM means. I feel like I still have so much to learn, and so quickly this little girl has grown.
Right after her dad and I called it quits, I spent a lot of time in hiding. Mostly, from the truth of what had become my life. At that moment, I felt like nothing could ever be worse than where I was. Unloved, and left to fend for two. How was I supposed to show this little girl a life of love, alone? For the next year, we would avoid crowded places. To my friends, I hardly spoke to. I did anything to avoid the question of how I was doing, and how I felt. Completely ashamed of what had become my truth. Not embarrassed of my life, but just the series of event that had led me there. I didn’t think I was doing myself or my daughter any harm. We were just spending more time alone. Now, I see what I really have done.
I fed into the fear and shame. I let those two emotions control everything. I was not ashamed to be a mother, never. But a single mother, that held a little pain. The look in my father’s eyes, when he stayed home the morning after I moved back. He took me on a little walk and told me, in his eyes I could do no wrong, but the look in his eyes told me he always wanted more for me. My mother told me I was strong, for leaving the abuse behind and ignoring my heart. Listen to you head, she said, ” a mother does anything for her kids.” Till this day, my mother does everything for her kids. I’m just trying to do my best, I have always said.
Now, I am more open about my experience. I don’t let myself be victimized, I don’t let those fears keep me from where I want to be. I’m still battling with some demons that made themselves at home. I guess that’s what happens when you let one in, they always invite more. I’m kicking them to the curb, because like their creator, they don’t live here anymore.