Saturday, August 04, 2018

drapetomania (n): an overwhelming urge to run away.

....but seriously how far could I actually run because I hate running.

So, here's some news if you haven't already noticed or heard through Facebook or Instagram - I'm single, and I'm a mother, therefore, I'm a single mother. Those words feel partially empowering and partially like nails on a chalk board.

It's a tough pill to swallow when I get the random messages from people who reach out asking "what happened?" People I haven't spoken to in years, who haven't cared about anything to do with my life, but now want an in to my "drama."

Well, I'll be honest. He told me he didn't love me anymore. Want to know how bad that hurt?

I cried a lot. I was scared (I'm still scared). I begged for counseling. He completed two sessions with me. Two. I continued going on my own, bringing Isla with me, and even once I moved back to Florida continued phone sessions with my counselor. I continued teaching cycle and trying to inspire others when I felt completely uninspiring and literally dead inside. I was angry, resentful at him for making me a single mother and resentful for how this could affect our child.

I was tired of feeling like I didn't hold any power in what was left of my crumbling relationship, so I drove myself down to an attorney's office and filed for divorce on April 5th. Packed my things April 6th and flew Isla and myself back to Florida April 8th while my dad drove my 4Runner, dog and two cats.

I'll never forget driving away from what was my home for so long. My first purchased house. I remember listening to the waterfall in the pool the night before I left, laying in bed by myself trying not to cry and trying to be brave. After my things were packed, the house was relatively empty, it was cold, it didn't feel like a home anymore. I sold a lot of stuff, got a lot of questions from neighborhood strangers "I'm getting a divorce," I'd say, "Oh my gosh I'm so sorry," I became numb to that response.

My dad and I drove to Albuquerque where Isla and I flew out from. I flew first class because with an infant in your arms and a pending divorce you need all the free alcohol you can get.

The divorce was final April 27th. I still have my ring and haven't decided what to do with it.

Fast forward four months later. While I'm still not happy and still extremely resentful, I'm working hard. Sometimes I still wake up in disbelief that this is my life now.  I appreciate the people who have reached out (literally nearly everyone I'm friends with on Facebook); you have absolutely no idea the impact of your kind words. I think currently I'm struggling with some depression because my life has regressed so much, but I remind myself that this is temporary. I wake up everyday and try to show Isla how brave and determined I am. Because it's the truth, I am brave and I am determined. I land on my feet EVERY TIME. I refuse to let someone else's choice dictate the rest of my life.

Some days I want to say, "you don't love me anymore? Well I love me twice as much as you ever did." And that's that.

Sunday, February 25, 2018


How do you know you're doing a good job as a mother? Lately I've been comparing myself to other mothers, "is she really always this patient when her kid is freaking out like that?" "Oh, I let Isla eat stuff on the floor, should I not do that?" "You weaned from pacifiers and bottles that soon?" "Crap, I forgot to brush her eight teeth today for the third day in a row." For real though, why do we, as humans, compare ourselves to others? I saw a quote somewhere, don't compare yourself to other mothers, we're all losing our shit, just doing so differently.

Allow me to tell you how and when I lose my shit. I lose my shit when my child refuses to eat anything! How is she surviving? I love food, my husband loves food, HOW, I ask you, does our child NOT LOVE FOOD. She throws chunk after chunk onto the floor as Jack patiently awaits for the go-ahead to clean up the mess. I lose my shit when my child tries with every fiber of her being to escape her car seat in the thrashing, grunting, whining, twisting, screaming fashion. What does it look like when I lose my shit? A huge, deep, powerful sigh and the ability to realize that she has no idea what she's doing. Then, I simply look at my watch, and count the hours until bed (and wine) time. Side note, I recently received my wine shipment from Carol Shelton wines and you need this wine in your life, do yourself a flavor. Purposeful pun.

Being a parent is hard, y'all and I kick myself for every time I judged some other mother before I ever became a mother (and even after I was a mother). "Why is she screaming at her kid in public?" Girl, you gotta do you. We have no idea what that mother is going through, what she's been through the last day/week/month/year. Why are we judging though? Does that make us better parents? Hell to the no. Stop it.

My baby turned one on Friday and I'm basically losing my mind because where did the time go? It feels like I've had her forever (also feels like I've been awake and over caffeinated for forever), but it also feels like it cruised by. A mother's work never ends, you guys, I spent the night before her first birthday picking up balloons, cleaning, grocery shopping for in-laws who were arriving to celebrate, missing my husband, sobbing because my baby is now NOT a baby and endlessly admiring her adorable first birthday outfit which I purchased from this Etsy shop. It's essentially her first prom dress, she's only going to wear it once, but I can make pretend she's one forever.

Life is hard, but I am continuously trying to better myself to demonstrate more love, better behavior, more acceptance, less control and more gratitude to her. I am more stressed and overwhelmed than I have ever been, but as a mother, I have no choice than to wake up every single day and put on a beautiful smile and paint myself with enthusiasm for my girl.


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