Posts Tagged With: sacrifices

My birthday is sacred, does that mean I’m selfish?

Tomorrow is my birthday!
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The forty fifth anniversary of the day I was born.
It is sacred.
But honestly, I think it’s only sacred to me.
The woman who taught me it was sacred is no longer here to celebrate.
The man who loved to join me in my countdown towards it is no longer here to celebrate.

Thing 1 and Thing 2 understand the sacredness of their own birthdays because I showed them how. But do they appreciate the sacredness of mine?
I guess if you break it down logically, they wouldn’t have birthdays to be sacred if I was never born…so they must somehow appreciate my birthday as sacred…?

YBW doesn’t feel as strongly about birthdays as I do.
And the fact that his firstborn son graduates from college tomorrow impacts what’s sacred about May 12, 2016. As it should! Thing C has worked hard to graduate with a double major. This is a “life token” event of high importance! I’m so proud of and for him and he’s not even mine.

Sundance and I talked about spending the day together tomorrow…but I’m not sure I’m actually feeling it. I guess we’ll see when I wake up tomorrow.

I did throw a party last weekend to celebrate both YBW’s and my birthday. We were absolutely celebrated by our friends and had a wonderful time!

But it’s the actual day that matters.
The actual day that one enters this world is what’s sacred.
I won’t be actively celebrated tomorrow. That feels strange to me. Partly because I don’t feel like I can actively celebrate myself.
I feel strongly about celebrating Thing C! He deserves to be loved and celebrated for his accomplishment. It’s not his fault the University decided to host the school of Humanities’ convocation on the day of my birthday.
I hate that I feel conflicted about it. I have the suspicion that it seems as though I’m begrudgingly choosing to attend his convocation. That is absolutely not the case! I want to celebrate this young man. I love him very much and have been through the ups and downs of life with him for the last six and a half years.

What it comes down to is sacrifice. Parents make sacrifices every single day for their kids. Some are teeny and can be made without thought, others are big and take a great deal of maturity to make.
I’m not his mom, but I am a mom. I can put my sacred day on the back burner to celebrate his achievement. I do it with honest intent, not because I “have to”.
I have never considered missing Thing C’s college graduation. I will be there no matter what. Because that’s what you do. That’s how you’re supposed to behave.
But that doesn’t mean I like the way it feels.

That’s been the tricky part.
Feeling like it’s OK to be conflicted. I don’t feel like I can talk about it too much because I don’t want to be hurtful. I would never ever hurt Thing C’s feelings!

Perhaps I place entirely too much importance on birthdays. Especially when I’ve had so many. Am I just that selfish? I’m not above considering that. Am I selfish that I want tomorrow to be all about me? Is that a bad thing? Even though I want it to be all about me, I’m celebrating graduation. Does that mean I’m not selfish?
I guess it doesn’t really matter.
I’ll be forty five tomorrow.
Thing C will graduate from college tomorrow.
I’ll end up being happy about and celebrating both.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

black (like my heart) Friday

It’s not even eight o’clock and I worry where the day will lead when a fight gets picked within six minutes of waking up. My instinct is to run. In my jammies and sock footed to get in my car and get away from here.
It seems as though I have a tone that sounds accusatory and inappropriate when speaking to YBW. I feel sure it wasn’t my tone, more the subject matter.
Or perhaps the fact that I had an opinion about the subject matter at all.
Or perhaps the fact that he’s felt belittled his entire life and I’ve spent mine struggling to be heard has the most to do with it. I tend to say things over and in different ways because I have a real and desperate need to feel heard. He tends to hear everything as some sort of condemnation, that he’s simply not right or good enough.
This can, on occasion, be a difficult way to communicate.
This morning was one of those times.

As I write this, I am actively fighting my instinct to run. That anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach, the fiery feeling in my brain stem screaming at me to get out and go someplace safe.
Before it’s all over, I suspect I’ll end up with a headache but I can handle that.

It’s not the first time this week there’s been a breakdown in communication that caused a fight. Lately I don’t feel like I can express myself unless I’m very careful to censor the subject matter. This of course triggers my deeply rooted and insecure hot buttons.
I believe it’s mostly about subject matter with YBW and I’ve considered just removing certain subjects from our conversations. Only that’s not a realistic way to live…or communicate. So I watch my tone and try to be honest. I try not to make him feel criticized or attacked in any way.
It’s still censorship.
Kindness is uniquely important…therefore not really censorship? I don’t actually know.

I don’t think YBW is an ass, or stupid, or any of the other things I occasionally get accused of. I think we hear what we’ve been conditioned to hear. We ALL hear what we’ve been conditioned to hear.
I have worked hard to show him I do not think those negative things about him with the sincere hope he will one day know that.

I’m struggling with this life.
I left my life to come be in his life with him with the plan it would become our life.
I have to “parent” two kids that are not mine. Who were raised completely differently than I know how to raise children. So I adapt to the way they do things in this family.
It’s hard. It makes me sad sometimes.
I feel like I’ve had to make all the sacrifices to be in this relationship. (He has made huge financial sacrifices, but the rest of his life pretty much got to stay the same.)
I always knew I would be the one who would assimilate into his life. There was never any question of that for simple logistics, his younger son, his home and employer.
I guess I didn’t realize it would be quite so hard.

It’s painful to feel I gave up everything to make a new life. I always felt it was going to be a better life, so that made the initial pain easier to stomach. I guess I just didn’t realize it would continue to feel that way.
Is it because I’m all settled and we’re comfortable? Is it because neither of us is on “our best behavior” anymore?
I feel like the life I chose, my life, the one I chose when I was twenty years old…however awful it became…was mine. By my own design.
This life is me trying to fit into the life someone else designed.
I deserve the chance to make it mine too.

Yesterday I watched the people in my life sit on the sofa while I made sure we had proper Thanksgiving dinner for their family.
I was asked if I need help, I was asked for specific directions.
I’m not a general. I don’t want to bark orders.
I want people to take initiative…or at the very least get up off their ass and stand in the kitchen with me so I don’t feel like everybody’s bitch.

I don’t think I’m unreasonable. And I can assure you I’ve examined that possibility.

I’m sitting on the sofa with tears on my face and Thing G is worried and comes to hug me.
That innocent kindness is unconditional love.
Unconditional love eludes some of us it’s something we never truly feel. That breaks my heart. I know I have it to give it’s not often that I receive it.
Love is a curious thing.
My heart still feels black but I see light nearer to me.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

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