This has been a long time a-coming.
I feel the need to write and I’m going to jot down some things, despite having no idea where this will go. To quote a great man in my life, “I’m going to write an intro blog. Just something saying that I don’t know where this is going, but my life is changing and so am I.”
I used to keep a blog, for several years, before my life completely turned upside down. I would write about my husband, my son, our vacations and adventures, the food I cooked, the food I loved to eat, and the food I fed other people. I took photos, I posted them within the blog, and it seemed to be something people enjoyed reading. I had followers from across the pond, as well as friends and relatives spread out across the country, and people seemed to enjoy my banter. I would feel guilty when I would spend any of my free time writing, despite the positive feedback I received, because I always felt I was neglecting my husband and/or my kid if I used any of my time for myself. So, the blog suffered and would only have entries every few weeks, then every few months. Because of this nagging feeling of neglect, I would only write if my husband and son were preoccupied watching some terrible movie I didn’t want to sit through for the 100th time, or if they were asleep. I even convinced myself that the nagging feeling in my gut I would get to write was something I should ignore, because that was time I could be out living. I would silently condemn all of those blogger Mommies that devoted their lives to documenting every mundane detail of their day, or sharing every recipe that crossed their path. I would think to myself, how do they do it? How do they have these small children and husbands, and still devote the time and focus it takes to write on a consistent basis? Sheesh, their husbands must be neglected, and their kids must be watching a lot of television. Or, these ladies weren’t sleeping – ever – which was not an option for me. (Me + sleep = BFF) Either way, I put on all sorts of judgy pants and shook my head in disbelief at how selfish they must be. Not to mention, how they all must be lying about how happy they were, doing that internet thing where you post nothing but the most adorable, impressive versions of yourself and your kids, when really, shit was falling apart.
Man, was I jealous.
What I failed to take into consideration was how most of these women were doing this to make a living. To be the next Pioneer Woman, and hopefully get enough internet presence to have someone pay them to blog. Shame on me for pissing on their efforts. That was way easier than me facing the bullshit reality that I was working two jobs, keeping my house afloat financially and emotionally, trying to be the perfect wife and mother … and I wasn’t happy. Well, I was at one point. But, then everything changed with one email, including me, and suddenly, I wasn’t happy.
Taking an honest look backwards, I could finally see that I hadn’t been that happy all along. I had settled, and was willing to do so to keep my family intact. But, everyone has their limit, and finding out that your husband sought out a perfect stranger via the world wide web and sent pictures of his junk to her just to get pictures of her boobs in return, was mine. I did everything I knew how to be the best version of a wife, a friend, and a mother that I could come up with, and it still wasn’t enough. It has taken nearly 3 years, divorce, and lots of painful tears to realize that that’s not on me. For 17 years, I did everything for my family, and still got the short end of the stick — but, I see now that it was because I was married to a narcissist that I made excuses for. Being the best you can be still won’t ever be enough for a person who doesn’t know how to do anything but take. And now, that shit is over with – for good.
My life has drastically changed since July 2013, and I am a different version of myself now than I was before that fateful day. Mine and my son lives are what matter most, and life is too short to spend it with someone who would dare treat you like an after-thought. My Dad raised me never to take shit from anyone, and there was no exception to that, especially when it came to the person I married. Fast forward to present day, and all the while I have been dealing with the tragedies and horrors of divorce with a 13-year old, that same nagging feeling has resurfaced about writing. I miss it. Even if no one cares what I have to say, I still want to get it out of my head and down on “paper”. And, I don’t have to feel bad about it. Part of this enormous life lesson the past 3 years has been trying to get used to making time for myself. So, here I am, scratching that itch, and I have to say, it feels pretty good.
It’s ironic that I chose the night before I have to go to work tomorrow and have one of the hardest conversations I’ve ever had with a boss and friend — or is it? I’m sure the fact that I ended up here right before this big conversation and change take place is no coincidence. I just need to wrap this up so I can attempt to get some decent sleep before the time for that big talk happens. With that, I shall sign off for the night.
I look forward to writing more. I will try really hard not to put pressure on myself to write every night — instead, let it happen organically. As it needs to. Whenever I feel the need. Whether it is read by others or not, it would feel good to get the creative juices flowing again, and that will make me happy. Happy feels good, and it’s a really, really nice change.