Don’t you dare judge me

Never in my life did I expect to be where I am now.

Everything I imagined my life to be has turned out differently.

I grew up thinking that when I had children, I would have a boy and a girl, like my parents did.

I have 4 girls.

I imagined being married living a middle of the road kind of life, like my parents did.

I imagined myself in a different life.

That is not where I am now.

Life is a sequence of cause and effect.

Every choice, every mistake, paves the road you must travel on.

Do you think I love the daily struggle to keep myself and my family afloat?

I have dealt with a massive number of downslopes over the past few years.

I was cocky after I filed for divorce and that was a huge mistake.

I didn’t realize how complicated things could get until one obstacle after another was thrown in my path.

After I lost the house I was 2 weeks away from buying, life took a turn for the worst.

Things have been mostly tragic since.

You think I like living that way?

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish things could be different.

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t put my best into making everything go as smoothly as possible.

There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t work towards change.

Do you think I like living this way?

The circumstances of my life, messy and unpredictable, but never a reason to be any less of a good person or mother.

Always looking for a way to improve.

Even if it is a small change.

I have had to ask for help. I have swallowed my pride and accepted help I did not want to believe I needed.

Do you really think I like living this way?

I am certainly not the person I used to be.

I am a better person.

Don’t you dare judge me.

I have cried wondering how I was gonna pay the bills.

I have spent many sleepless nights wondering about the days to come and what new issue will arise.

I have persevered through many anxiety ridden days hoping that my family is happy enough.

I have sacrificed my needs to make sure my family has what they need.

I always try to display my best self, but some days my best isn’t always up to your standards.

But, don’t you dare judge me.

Life is perfectly imperfect and no matter what happens, I never give up.

I have conquered way too much to be judged by the likes of you.

You don’t control me.

You have no right to judge me.

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Some days…

Some days I feel like a super hero.

I know I am a good mom and a good person.

Perfect I am not.

And I hate that word.

PERFECT

Nothing is perfect.

Life is messy. Life is trial and error.

Life can be calm. Hectic.

Every day I grow and learn.

But, some days I am completely on point.

I feel like nothing can stop me.

I feel empowered and strong.

I feel pretty and my self esteem seems settled at an acceptable point.

Then you have days when the whole world comes crashing down.

The evil that lurks in the shadows lashes out.

Looking for control, looking to strike you down.

Everything suffers.

You suffer. You can’t breathe. You struggle to get ahold.

Slipping and losing grip at the mercy of your destroyer.

I will not allow the forces to win.

I will battle for what is right no matter the consequences.

The consequences of watching myself temporarily weakened, broken down and feeling defeated.

But, I will still not let them win.

The things that keep me fighting are always in my heart and mind.

They are the images that let me know that it is okay not to be perfect, but to always be the best I can be.

At every moment, even when I feel like I am failing.

I am my best for them, even when I believe I am not enough.

Life sentence

I am doing a life sentence. No, I didn’t murder anyone, I merely got a divorce.

November 13, 2015 is when it was official, but somehow I am still dealing with the mental and verbal abuse.

He doesn’t specifically call me names, not to my face anyways. He saves that for telling the kids so when they get back home with me, I can hear all about what daddy said or what there soon to be wicked step mother has said about me.

And I don’t mean to retaliate, but I am almost 40 years old. Getting really tired of having to hear highschool drama. I bite my tongue most of the time. I know, just say nothing. But, it’s hard not to when it is so hurtful.

But, the never ending abuse is that no matter what I do or say, it is never the right thing, by his standards anyways.

I am not him, and I will make certain never to be. I don’t parent like he does, but that doesn’t make me a bad parent.

Their clothes aren’t new enough, or don’t meet his approval.

A long sleeved white t-shirt and pink sweatpants does not make a kid a hobo. As he called her that right to her face.

Loud flowery pants are not ridiculous if the kid likes to wear them. Kindergarten is not a fashion show and why can’t she within reason make some of her own decisions. It’s called having a mind of her own.

They obviously frown upon that considering they are all treated like little soldiers.

And it all comes back to me. I am a bad parent for allowing my kids to make small choices in their lives. Why does it matter what design was on her pants. She didn’t look “ridiculous”, she was happy with them and you made her feel bad.

They have clothes on their backs. Yes, the majority are hand me downs, because I just can’t afford to hit the malls and buy them the latest and greatest.

They have plenty of food to eat. They have a roof over their heads, running water and electricity. They have heat. They do homework and go to school each day. I buy them new shoes one at a time as I can afford it. They have backpacks and lunch bags to carry their stuff in. They have beds to sleep in. We do stuff as a family. I make homemade meals most nights.

I punish them when need be and revoke privileges when necessary. I take care of them when they are sick and I urge them to talk when I know something is wrong.

We play, we laugh and we love.

I don’t do things his way, but that doesn’t make me a bad parent.

I shouldn’t have to always defend myself. I shouldn’t have to always feel judged and scrutinized. I shouldn’t have to look over my shoulder constantly worrying that if I don’t do something to his standards that he will threaten to seek full custody or call children’s services on me.

I shouldn’t have to live with constant anxiety.

And yet I take the abuse. Being talked down to like I am a child. Berating me and my decisions.

It is a life sentence of constantly having to hear about how bad of a mom I am because I don’t force my kids to clean baseboards as a punishment.

Because a coat is old and worn and needs replaced, but I just don’t have the money for it right now. I don’t even have a coat.

Or hear about how my one daughters hair was a mess because she didn’t want it pulled up and quite frankly doesn’t give two shits about being perfect all the damn time.

I have to hear about how he gave me everything in the divorce and how he still needs to pay for two households.

I am tired of being beaten down and harassed about everything he doesn’t agree with.

It is abuse.

When my kids are skipping school, not doing homework, running the streets with no clothes, malnourished, doing drugs, stealing, living with no heat or electricity, unclean and unhappy, then he has every right to attack me.

But, that is not the case.

Every day of my life revolves around the lives that I carried in my womb for 9 months. Every sacrifice I make is for them so that I can give them the best that I can give them. I give them my best, always. Doesn’t that count for something?

It doesn’t make me a bad mum.

And yet I am bullied and broken down and because of him, I feel like I am.

I have no leverage to make it stop. He won’t stop and I don’t know what to do. There are no laws or rules that can make it stop.

I just want to live in peace. It has been nearly three years since the separation and I am still being punished. I am still being treated like I am garbage. I am still being made to feel inadequate. I am still being bullied and talked down to.

It makes me sad, it makes me want to cry at times. It makes me angry. It makes my anxiety shoot through the roof. It makes me second guess myself and feel like I am not good enough.

I received a life sentence of being treated like shit from a narcissist. An angry bully who feels superior.

All because I wanted a divorce.

Self Conscious

My skin has always been an issue.

I always wished I were one of those girls walking around with flawless skin.

Adult acne, due to hormones, was always a problem, up until now.

Us moms, our bodies go through so much shit as we age and go through pregnancies and beyond.

I am not at the beyond yet, but I know it’s around the bend as I approach 40.

This last pregnancy left me with a new skin problem that has really trampled my self esteem.

Mask of pregnancy or Malasma.

It it characterized by brown or dark patches of skin, mainly on the face.

Finally, my skin is pretty clear of acne, but now I have brown spots.

I guess I just can’t win.

So, today I finally got a haircut after many months.

And, I am sharing my face. Make up helps. But, it still looks like I have a 5 o’clock shadow above my lip and my forehead is affected too.

But, I have this gorgeous little girl now.

I have a 5 year old who also has marks on her face. She was born with a port wine stain on the side of her face and up around a part of her eye.

She rocks it! She is so beautiful. She is fully aware of them and just says that the birthmark just makes her her.

So, even though my spots aren’t as dramatic as my daughters, they are there. I am sure my anxiety fuels me feeling bad about them too.

Feeling good today with my haircut and not caring what anybody thinks.

I did it

I challenged myself to at least one thing.

It wasn’t big. But, it counts.

I have been wanting so badly to make my Jamberry business work.

One day I will get all pumped and want to really start putting some serious effort into success.

Then the following day a kid gets sick, then I get sick. Bills aren’t going to get paid and the stress just has your brain going through all possible outcomes. Or an old dog has become increasingly tough to handle.

There is always some obstacle that pops up to knock any positivity out of me.

And that there my friends is an excuse. In which I used to boast about making no excuses and going after what I wanted.

I lost that spark. I lost that fire.

I can not believe the path of destruction my divorce left.

But, Today, Today I did one thing different.

I exposed myself a little.

I made little packages, only 5 and left them in the mailroom. A flyer, business card, some samples and application instructions. Just as a test run.

A few hours later, I went to get the mail and they were all gone.

I have a feeling they did not disappear the way that I intended.

But, I did it. I did something I have been making excuses not to do.

I need to make more and I need to take them with me whenever I go.

And tomorrow, something else.

Fearless

I love to write.

I don’t really know why I don’t come here more often.

Wait a minute, it’s that little bitch called anxiety.

The why’s with no answer.

It occurred to me just a bit ago, that on most nights, we’ll say around 8:30 or so. I have kids. Bedtime never happens quickly or smoothly for that matter. But, around that time I get to shift down a gear.

And most nights when this happens, I find myself being able to hear my thoughts once again.

These thoughts of all the things I can and should do.

The empowering thoughts of lighting a fire under myself and start tackling life again.

Quit smoking. Get back in shape. Be more me with less fear.

I used to be fearless. Except for spiders, that fear has and will always exist. I used to be independent, bold and strong.

I lost it.

So, every night I get a chance to revisit these thoughts, I always devise a plan. I tell myself tomorrow is a new day. I can make changes. I have the control. Instead of sitting idle as my anxiety takes the wheel, I am going to quit fearing the maybes and the no’s. I am not going to continue to coast on by each day and just hope a giant wave doesn’t come crashing down.

I am going to do at least one thing that makes me uncomfortable. That puts me in a vulnerable position that I’ll do anything in my power to avoid.

My life has been nothing short of chaos since my divorce. I am tired and battered and bruised.

But, only I can make the changes, improve and grow.

So, tomorrow. No matter what it may be. I am going to do something. I am not going to let that little voice that talks me out of everything to have total control.

I am going to surprise that bitch anxiety.

And hopefully I can build on that.

I have been drifting for far too long. If I truly love my family and want what is best for them, then I should be able to muster up enough strength to fight back.

I want better.

In the “write” place

I never planned for my life to go the way it has. 

In fact, I never really envisioned anything other than being happy. 

Is it careless to allow life to go as it should?

Should I have made sure that I had a clear and precise plan?

What I am sure of, is that everything has happened for a reason. Even when I have had doubts. 

With every step, each obstacle or victory or test or reward, has shaped my life the way it truly needed to go. 

I am not a religious person, but I understand why having something to believe in is so important. 

It gives you the hope to continue going when you don’t think you can. 

In my mindset, I have been through a lot. In each persons mind, their fight is unique and worse than anybody elses. 

Just remember that, and don’t try to down play their struggle. 

I believe my journey, no matter what I thought it was supposed to be, happened the way it was meant to. 

I have found that I have come almost full circle. 

I have found that “person” I was supposed to be with. 

I have learned about the importance of love and trust and family. 

I am coming back to that creative and unique chick I once was. 

All I can feel is that I feel more at home now in my skin, and I lost my way for a bit. 

I have always been driven by my desire to create, to make, to be a part of anything that pertained to art. Music, writing, drawing, painting, giving, creating….those are things that drive me and keep my heart alive. 

I always hoped that one day I would be “famous” so to speak for something that involved my talents. 

Things I had to learn, but things that I taught myself and had an abilty for. Things that made me happy to share with others. 

I have always loved to write. 

I have always loved being creative. Making floral arrangements, crocheting or coming up with my own ideas for something new and neat! 

I love photography and taking pictures of everything. Capturing moments and memories and beauty. 

I love to sing even though I am only so so. Music has always been fuel for me. 

I would love to show my girls to never give up on their dreams. 

I am almost 37 years old, and I feel like I have a whole hell of a lot to still offer.

Just want to find that thing that helps me to connect with the world. I want to make a difference!