Mother's Day

If we could freeze the day and time you found out you were pregnant, and hope to god it was a good thing…. That the other loved one you were confiding in was devastated in you for what your body does naturally. You took it as a moral offense to the innocent nature of protecting? Protecting who, exactly? I get to tell my story the way I want to; I don't know why I had to be protected all of a sudden. My virtue and integrity was misplaced a long time ago, before the incident. I had wanted to live at home finally, with a stable family. But I was 20, and apparently ruining my Dad’s marriage; he told me so… If I had stayed in ATL, and moved in with my dad and his family again to stave off homelessness, he had said that he would've housed me in the shack in the backyard with a radio and a cot. That's it. He was at his wit's end with my behavior.... lol. He never gave me the words that could've saved my life... and now I'm not allowed to regret it because it is someone else's life now. I don't ever regret the decisions I've made in life because they are what make me who I am today. 

"The family is never to know." ...... "Don't ever tell [Brother]." ....but then Dad turned around, and told everyone the wayward story that was sugar coated and not the full fucking story. He never asked me permission to tell my story, nor did he ever stick up for me and my way of thinking. He never protected my integrity... he protected his own. 

And, when Brother became interested in girls at a younger age, guess who he heard about? That's right. It was me! lol. The story I was told to keep secret... He was telling everyone a puff piece version that had nothing right about it.... IT WAS MY STORY TO TELL. 

I was robbed of a promised future of motherhood because I wasn’t the person I wanted to be when I had a kid. I wanted that child to feel wanted and cared for, and part of a loving family; I know my family loves me, but there's not a long montage of happy times and fun memories. There's a lot of yelling and blow ups.

I never wanted my kid to carry the weight of regret that was never Theirs to bare. I have never wanted Them to feel neglected by me, her Mom. I wanted to be the best Mom I could be, in that moment. I made the decision of adopting-out because I reviewed my own life thus far… I was an immature invalid. I was a child… a baby having a baby doesn’t make a good, sane woman. I never wanted to repeat history. I didn’t want to be a withered, bitter old woman. I never wanted to be the disappointment. I don’t want to be let go because I didn’t want it hard enough. I want to be a writer of stories… how does someone like me get published? How do I make my story public, all at once, so everyone knows it? 

All my parents have wanted me to do is to fold it up and stash it away and ignore it ever happened to me. But it's right there, all the time. Screaming to be let out. A rage inside sways the tides of the fire within. I want to unleash, but I never want to disappoint. They all wanted to protect me... I get it. But instead of hiding away, why not speak from experience? What is everyone so afraid of....There's no such thing as a one-sided story.

I wanted to give everything wonderful the world had to give, to my kid and save the horrible things for later…. I looked at my life, thus far… at 22? That's not really a time to birth humans IMHO. 22 yr olds might be lively and full of potential, but they're just graduating from a system of order; school for 12+ years…

All 22 year olds now. Yes, every single one, even my Cousins. They are so hard working and on FIRE. Like I am proud of every single fcking one of you! But it's really not a time in one's life to have kids... Have fun, save money, but don't have kids so young until you know who you are and what you want. 

Because of the young people and LGBTQ+ communities, I feel safer and safer being my old weird self around good people; is it a coincidence that they're all younger...and gay? It takes a lot for me to feel safe because I have been so not for so long. I'm queer. I am different. I am the alien; the Doctor.

I want to be discovering trauma and diving into shadow work. I've been surviving on fumes of insanity. Barely surviving. 

...

When I work with 22yr old age ranges, they are so much more mature than me, sometimes. How can they function in this insane world, but not me? It is so stressful coming home sometimes, because my home had always been my sanctuary; and it hasn’t felt emotionally safe for so long. The new place is small but great! … but it's also not for me. My roomie is AWESOME SAUCE but it's her house. I wish I had my own place for my own routines.

...

I don’t know what it feels like to have a home life like that. Supportive without having to earn it? What's that like? I’ve always come to the conclusion of sanity from the perspective that order is more important than chaos… but without anxiety and trying to filter my nerves into my inspirational, creative self instead, is it used for the good of humanity. I am owed an explanation as to why I stayed so long with a schmuck who never really wanted to spend time with me. But hey, he got a minifridge. Not a ring or anything… nothing important like that. /s

He had the audacity to waste four years of my time when I could’ve been with anyone else that could speak my language enough and be patient and less controlling… I wanted freedom, but he made me cut off my own ears. 

Crickets never wanted to compliment me. I would tell him to tell me I'm fine as hell in front of his friends…. And he never did… I'm going to call him Crickets from now on... Never found the words. He never fought for me in battle or defended my honor… apparently someone at his job told him that I was childish. I asked what he replied with, and guess what? All I got were crickets. lol. Weird. Almost like he never proved to me he was worthy enough to have all of me. He had never wooed me …he refocused and banished parts of me he hated so I was dumb enough to sand myself down to the knub and for what? That person wasted the years I could’ve ….

I am dealing with the loss of a person I was basically promised, a life that I was promised in my mid 20s, surely worthy enough in my 30s…humans would see me and want to impregnate me, because that’s all I am to most men that I have ever known for less than ten seconds. If I don’t feel safe around you, you don’t get to know the real me. If you don’t inquire, how am I supposed to know you always wondered about me?

...

I always wonder if I could live up to Their standards of what a woman leader looks like. Am I Their hero? Or Their foe? Am I worthy for Them to ever give me the title of mother? Please take care of Them, forever. I knew what having Them meant to the world, in general. 

I hope They didn't inherit my feelings of sorrow or depression.... because I cannot even conceive of the notion to be that young and not like to be alive…. I have had those feelings before, but much later in life, like at 23...and like 5 years ago (2019)…. But like, there's a heartbreak to motherhood that most don’t want to talk about. It is thankless. It is soul sucking. It is selfish and jealousy and guilt. It is like a grand comedy of raising a human being to be another good human being, isn’t as easy. But being a good mother is a tough job. I am tired of being everyone's mom. 

You are kind and patient, and wanted the best for the human you brought into this world… congratulations here's one card written in crayon and a burnt slice of toast. 

I know that my mother doesn’t regret us. I know that there are probably good chances that G’s also in the camp of no regrets, but I feel like that signature was forced to get married. There's that big bold line between the Mistakes and Her family…. (they're different. I'm not supposed to say that but I think it every single time they ruin a memory with their negative nonsense). I got nine years on her, being Dad's first family, but that doesn’t mean anything to the First Mistakes; Sister and me. I feel like my father regrets having us sometimes… he only calls once a month, and that’s only because he sets a timer to set up a call. Can't be bothered to know me like an individual, not just a person who makes him look bad, not married or anything… lest I end up bitter and alone. lol

I am tired … quite bloody tired of being bothered to have the traditional message in a fake-caring text, “happy mothers day!” They all remembered this time, at least. I'm not the same person that I was before I met Crickets and it was evident in how I wrote because my brain was full of chaos.

Nothing made sense sometimes, he was so mad all the time, even if he said it wasn’t because of me, I always felt like there was something negative. He never shared or confided in me… He could never trust me, he never thought I could handle a big feeling he was having… which is fine, I was having bigger more complex feelings when he was at work and I was waiting around for him to come home, like a puppy or something? But I never got that around some people. So he was always so intensely ingrained with fear and self hatred, and it choked him cold. He choked himself on his arrogance of misunderstood, misguided, and underestimated the strength that I had within. He doubted my rage to keep a cool head. His anger is fear based… unsure my rage of justice filters through.

I've met very FEW men recently—that I trust and feel safe and honored in a way, to receive love in which I want to give… Crickets kept denying me that expression, he’d never say thank you or acknowledged my efforts in helping around the house… I had asked for it a few times and then just stopped asking for it because it never happened anyway; I was wasting my oxygen. I'd have to ask for praise all the time. Or he’d point out what I wasn’t doing when I brought up help I needed. I tried getting him to see what to be thankful for, because I wasn’t going to fight him on his feelings, feelings are valid. But acting upon them is the wrong thing, sometimes….talking in a circle without any follow through or initiating action…… the thought of hurting someone else terrifies you, so you cannot lead… you have no idea what it was like trying to talk to him… he always had to be right and wanted to fight about everything that didn’t make him look like the bad guy…. I could never be sarcastic or critique him, he’d get so bent out of shape if I was an ounce out of place to his liking. He said he was both, but he could never submit to me. He could never trust me with control... He could never relinquish it to me... Bc I respected him, I just thought he reciprocated... But he never really did, did he?

Some random ass woman got to get top shelf with Crickets instead of me, their partner who likes it at top shelf, but stopped pushing because he claimed paranoia, so I never asked again…. But you just meant, with me. You couldn’t come up to my level of shelf even if you wanted to… but you always refused to admit that you were the asshole more than I was ever a bitch. It made me really sad to know that my partner refers to me as a bitch in his head… like, that’s a name you give to someone you don’t respect… that’s my definition. And I guess now, it's a boundary. Also, in hindsight, he did, in fact, not respect me...

Crickets--maybe seeing it from another view…. OR maybe relinquished control… Admit defeat. He thought he could blame me for HIS cheating… what? At what point in the night did you want to rush home and tell me about the show? How do you do that? How do you spend five additional hours with this human who is not your “fiancé on an application for apartments” but not in real life, right Crickets? You got mad at me when I brought up my disgust in your choice. You got upset with me and I never knew why…

I’d like to lose control, feel what that feels like. Is it bliss? Is it the ultimate top shelf ingredient to this meat soup of a body…like gooey chaos within? What makes sense to result in one ordered life within… I don’t think that exists. I don’t understand how to keep a good structured life and safe space for respect and vulnerability. People think that’s weakness… but its not. It’s not defeat, it’s not bad…. It’s a surrender to the unknown. The positive faith in humanity… lol. The gratitude of the life I’m living. Why would I squander it so badly?

...

I have had to emotionally regulate my mother, since birth… my sister… my brother… my father… G…. class of 2005 splitting in so many different directions, all I knew is I needed to escape instead of feeling safe enough to establish boundaries of how I would like to be treated. I would like to be able to respect you in public, let alone respect you in private.

I don’t think I respect my Mom as a human. I love her… but I wish we had more connection and better lessons on how to exist in the world and make our own money. I wish I could’ve found someone that could help me with relearning those skills with my brain but how do I even ask for that?

I grew up with a few moms. First Mom was my birth Mom… a person who has earned that title from me because I understand that me myself and I came out of her womb… I was developing the egg that became my kid, within my mother’s womb. I hope to god they meet one day and hug and talk. I hope it’s not over something bad like my death or anything. I hope someone tells someone these words exist somewhere… maybe there’s something wise within these bricks of nonsense.

Second mom was my first grandmother, Grandma Velma. When I have a bit of an attitude, I think I'm channeling her... She was hilarious.

Then there was biological grandparents, Grandmother and Granna... THEN it was G and her Mom W. So... 

And I've found little bits of moms and parental-type love out of older best friends and even coworkers along the way...

...

It’s interesting to me the boundary I pushed myself to, on Saturday, may seem trivial to me in a year or five… but I focused this weekend on self exploration and observation and the yeses and things I saw that I could… ask for, and maybe receive, one day. I focused on my throat and creative chakras because they have been trying to tell me something……. I connect with other intelligent people who are blunt with emotions and have gotten to know me better for me to be safe… around peers. 

The queers is one community I'll always support and want to be apart of; I always wanted to stay alive, despite the measuring stick stuck in the mud, reading I wasn’t enough for the record keepers. But I always looked forward to meeting a future me, to see how far I have come to accept and forgive myself. I like to have deep, emotional connections and discussions and then one thing leads to another… and we are discussing something completely different, in different mediums. It was so nice to talk to someone who knew what I needed at least an inch of; attention. I need to be more educated in the etiquette and manner of speaking up for myself; being more vocal of what I want or need…

...

Motherhood is thankless. People don’t want to discuss the hurt and loss and grief. They just want to text me Happy Mother’s Day… but it’s so difficult today. I wish I had done more for the weekend, but I'm glad I took it easy on myself. Some new crushes… some old friends leveled up with me… I have gained a little bit back from the years I was shut away from the world because that was easier than trying to grow a community around someone who didn’t participate or was a good neighbor… who never had stamina. Staying power.

...

I wonder if I’ll ever get to be the mother I want to be… or if I ever become a mother I can also respect… did I make the right choice? What would life had looked like if I had kept her? I probably would’ve 86’d my Mom, honestly. I would’ve been in prison. Or I would’ve been thrown out like all of her other problems. Living with such a toxic person, someone who you could never naturally connect with because their toxicity was tied to the control they had had over me… if they didn’t have control, then they couldn’t have me as a friend. They never wanted to change, for the better. They needed to control every piece of their environment without thinking of how they could just be better at communication. They never wanted to do the shadow work and figure out why a good little water nymph like me, wanted nothing to do with them. They were brick walls when what I wanted was a fresh pond. 

I wish the world was as blunt as this weekend. Life would be a lot better if that was everyday… I could openly RBF the world, and they'd be ok with how I communicate.

I am tired of being a girl locked in a woman’s body. How do I graduate to a higher level of thinking? How do I not get called a sweetie by a stranger? I don’t hate it… but I want to get out of it. I'm not a Mom in a traditional, I'm-raising-a-small-human being, kinda way… but what else do I have to prove I'm a woman, and not a girl?

I do not want to be a girl the rest of my life. What makes a girl into a woman? Having a baby come out of my uterus and not dying? What would I have to do as a person for me to view me as not a constant screw up? That I have my shit together. But does anybody?

Snow.