This past week, I had an incredible surprise in the middle of the night, when, at 3am, I heard a very loud banging on my front door. I stumbled out of bed, quickly trying to unhook the ice machine on my leg that I have to sleep in, and hobbled to the door. I think about twenty different terrible case scenarios shot through my head, but as soon as I got to the door, I heard the sound of little giggles on the other side. I threw open the door, and my beautiful babies were grinning and laughing back at me, saying "Mommy!!!!" My ex husband had taken it upon himself to drive the 12 hours straight through from when he got off of work to bring them home to me as a surprise the weekend before my birthday. Pretty awesome, huh? I thanked him profusely, and even posted my admiration for his kindheartedness on Facebook. If not for him bringing them, I don't know when I would have been able to see my kids next, since, thanks to my knee injury, I'm unable to drive long distances.
We spent about an hour talking to the kids, and then Jesse went to sleep on the couch, while I had Avery and Cori hop into bed with me. As I mentioned before, I'm hooked up to a machine that keeps cold ice flowing across my knee injury all night long. When paired with the general pain of much movement, I have to keep pretty immobile while I'm sleeping. So, as much as I loved waking up next to my sweet sleepy headed beauties a couple of hours later, I was absolutely feeling the pain in my leg from being kicked, rolled over, and climbed across, while my little movers slept. I let my ex husband know that it probably wasn't going to be possible for them to stay with me overnight alone, and he was very understanding. Things went on swimmingly throughout the day, and I was impressed by how friendly my ex husband was being when he picked them up that evening.
Fast forward to the next day, and he was completely opposite from the day before. He barely spoke to me, was short in responses to questions I asked, and just generally pretty rude. That behavior carried on throughout the weekend, and when I asked him today why he acted that way, he told me he was upset that I wouldn't let them stay with me at night. I explained, once again, that I have a one bedroom apartment, and two children who are still very much co-sleepers a lot of the time. I reiterated how I was unable to sleep with them in bed with me and how much my leg hurt throughout the weekend from the beating it took for the 4 hours they did sleep in my bed on Friday morning.
Anyway, it's very frustrating to me, this whole ex husband, ex wife dynamic. I like to pretend that we get on great, that we have a wonderful post-divorce relationship, but I think that's clearly false. We text each other throughout the week, me asking about the kids, and him sharing stories about work, or his running, or a funny story. That part is nice. I mean, I did love this guy for eight years, so maintaining a friendship should be easy, right? Not so. Our friendly conversations are sprinkled with anger, bitterness, and constant drudging up of past mistakes. I don't pin all of the blame on him, by any means. Loving each other for eight years and being married for five means that we both know exactly how to get under each others' skin. We know exactly what to say to piss each other off, and it's easy to hurt one another.
It's frustrating, to say the least I wonder how long this will go on. I think it's obvious that my ex husband still has feelings for me, and I hate that, not for me, but for him. I want so much for him to move on, to find love again, and maybe even one day get married and have kids again. He claims again and again that he doesn't want to find love again, for reasons I won't get into on a public forum, but it makes me sad for him. Of course our marriage didn't work out; we weren't meant to be. But that doesn't mean I want unhappiness for him.
I've said before, and still absolutely believe that there is nothing wrong with each of us moving on, finding love, remarrying, and maybe having more children one day. The way I see it, when we allow new love into our lives, we are allowing new love into our children's lives. I can't think of a way that that could be a bad thing, albeit hard at first. I would never, ever want to replace my children's father. He is wonderful to them, and I hope their relationship will always flourish, but I think that it is possible to have stepparents without ever feeling like the parents are being replaced. It's what I wish for one day for my kids: to have two loving stepparents, and maybe new siblings that they can grew up with, be it step-siblings or half.
I just hope that a day will come when I won't have to bite my tongue at triggering comments and I can feel a genuine friendship with my ex husband. I'm tired of wondering when the nice will fade and the anger set in, or when the bitterness will subside, and friendly is back again. I don't know how we'll ever successfully co-parent and raise two happy, healthy, stable children without a solid friendship between us.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Military Issued Girlfriends.
Back in late 2007, when Jesse came home on leave from basic training and we got re-engaged, I was thrust head first, arms flailing, in to the military life. My first stop in finding support was the internet, where I found a website that, at the time, saved my life. The website was called Military Issued Girlfriends, and was an internet forum that facilitated me meeting some of the best friends of my life. They welcomed me with open hearts and minds, and guided me, acronym by acronym, into the sisterhood of military wives.
We were all spread around the world, from Germany to South Korea to Hawaii, to Florida, and everywhere in between. With these women, I went through marriage, moving to the other side of the world and back, two pregnancies, and the breakdown that led to separation and eventually divorce. A lot of these women know me better than friends I've known in real life. We've helped each other through PCSing (that's moving in military-ese), and pregnancy scares and raising babies and the tougher things like making it through divorces. The best part about MIG (more acronyms, yay!) is that it's where I met my very best friend. It's where I met Lyssa, my sweet and awesome bestie that I've never actually met face to face. Funny, huh? But that's how us military wives work. We get used to moving new places and saying goodbye to friends, old and new. We remind each other not to get too attached to that coffee shop just outside of post because in just a couple of years, the movers will be back and home will be someplace new. But we always have that network behind the scenes, the friends who move with us and get to know us from behind the screen of a monitor and the finger taps of a keyboard.
At one point, a close group of us all disbanded from the original MIG, creating our own smaller, more intimate forum. They are my women of liberty. It is these women whom I consider to be my closest friends. With them, I have the kind of relationships where I can make a post in the middle of the night, and they're all there for me, cheering me on and encouraging me like I haven't just disappeared without stopping in to say hello for months. We've all exchanged letters and birthday cards and Christmas presents with each other. They are relationships that have been 6 years in the making for me. They've watched my babies grow from the first pregnancy tests into two adorable little children.
MIG shut down last week, after something like 9 years running. It was a result of the high cost of running an online network and the dispersion that we've all made over the years, checking in less and less as we grew busier and busier in our individual lives. I, myself, hadn't checked into MIG in probably a month or so, and hadn't actually posted there in probably a year. So when Lyssa texted me last week to tell me that MIG was shutting down, I got more emotional over it than I would have expected. I started thinking back to the women I've met and the moments I've shared. It's not all that significant that the website has shut down, I guess. We've still got our own smaller forum of the refugees of MIG, for now at least. Even yet, we all keep in contact, whether it's through Facebook, or in some cases, daily text messages. But it's still sad to think that MIG has shut down. It's silly to say, but it's almost like hearing that they've decided to close the doors of your high school. You've moved on, you've graduated, and it doesn't really affect your life that its gone, but it still pulls a little tightly on your heart strings when you hear the news.
One of the funny things about only knowing these friends from online is that when several of us all get pregnant at the same time, we watch our babies grow up together without ever actually knowing each others' babies. I guess it's something like having virtual playdates. Four years after my daughter's birth, I celebrate the birthdays of Jackson and Max and Fiona and Matthew and Cecilia, and all of the other four year olds that I had the pleasure of watching grow up alongside my Cori. And after more than two years since my son's birth, I check up on Garrett and Liam and Ellyana and all of the other two year olds that have grown up as Avery has. They are my military family. The ones you pick and the ones you hold in your heart forever. Divorced or not, I will always be a part of the sisterhood that is military wifehood.
We were all spread around the world, from Germany to South Korea to Hawaii, to Florida, and everywhere in between. With these women, I went through marriage, moving to the other side of the world and back, two pregnancies, and the breakdown that led to separation and eventually divorce. A lot of these women know me better than friends I've known in real life. We've helped each other through PCSing (that's moving in military-ese), and pregnancy scares and raising babies and the tougher things like making it through divorces. The best part about MIG (more acronyms, yay!) is that it's where I met my very best friend. It's where I met Lyssa, my sweet and awesome bestie that I've never actually met face to face. Funny, huh? But that's how us military wives work. We get used to moving new places and saying goodbye to friends, old and new. We remind each other not to get too attached to that coffee shop just outside of post because in just a couple of years, the movers will be back and home will be someplace new. But we always have that network behind the scenes, the friends who move with us and get to know us from behind the screen of a monitor and the finger taps of a keyboard.
At one point, a close group of us all disbanded from the original MIG, creating our own smaller, more intimate forum. They are my women of liberty. It is these women whom I consider to be my closest friends. With them, I have the kind of relationships where I can make a post in the middle of the night, and they're all there for me, cheering me on and encouraging me like I haven't just disappeared without stopping in to say hello for months. We've all exchanged letters and birthday cards and Christmas presents with each other. They are relationships that have been 6 years in the making for me. They've watched my babies grow from the first pregnancy tests into two adorable little children.
MIG shut down last week, after something like 9 years running. It was a result of the high cost of running an online network and the dispersion that we've all made over the years, checking in less and less as we grew busier and busier in our individual lives. I, myself, hadn't checked into MIG in probably a month or so, and hadn't actually posted there in probably a year. So when Lyssa texted me last week to tell me that MIG was shutting down, I got more emotional over it than I would have expected. I started thinking back to the women I've met and the moments I've shared. It's not all that significant that the website has shut down, I guess. We've still got our own smaller forum of the refugees of MIG, for now at least. Even yet, we all keep in contact, whether it's through Facebook, or in some cases, daily text messages. But it's still sad to think that MIG has shut down. It's silly to say, but it's almost like hearing that they've decided to close the doors of your high school. You've moved on, you've graduated, and it doesn't really affect your life that its gone, but it still pulls a little tightly on your heart strings when you hear the news.
One of the funny things about only knowing these friends from online is that when several of us all get pregnant at the same time, we watch our babies grow up together without ever actually knowing each others' babies. I guess it's something like having virtual playdates. Four years after my daughter's birth, I celebrate the birthdays of Jackson and Max and Fiona and Matthew and Cecilia, and all of the other four year olds that I had the pleasure of watching grow up alongside my Cori. And after more than two years since my son's birth, I check up on Garrett and Liam and Ellyana and all of the other two year olds that have grown up as Avery has. They are my military family. The ones you pick and the ones you hold in your heart forever. Divorced or not, I will always be a part of the sisterhood that is military wifehood.
Let love in.
Since my children live about 14 hours away, nearly halfway across the country, I don't always know how to picture my future. I never know when they'll move back here, or if they'll move back here, or when they do, if they'll live with me or their dad, or if it'll be a split custody arrangement. There's no way to know. So most of the time, it's easier just to pretend like they'll live far away forever. It's just slightly less heartbreaking than getting my hopes up that they'll be back to live in my house one day, and then realizing that maybe they won't. So when I think about the future, I envision weekend visits and holidays together. I try not to think about waking up on school mornings to fix breakfast and get their coats and backpacks on before they head off for the day because it's too heartbreaking to think that maybe I won't have that one day. It's too painful to let the happy thoughts in, so I close up and I close off to letting anyone and anything. I don't want to be a weekend mom. I don't want to be an across the country mom. My kids have a wonderful father, but they need their mama too, and it's hard to envision living with them once again when they're just so far away. I was a stay at home mom for three years. It was exhausting and wonderful and playful and yeah, sometimes a little bit too much to handle mentally. But I provided everything my littles needed day in and day out. When Daddy was gone training up as a soldier, or working long shifts as a policeman, I was there 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for my littles. It's been a hard adjustment to go from stay at home mom to across the country mom.
Anyway, all of that brings me to the thought that spurred all of that. When I've tried to picture my future relationships, I've questioned to myself whether I'd ever live with a man again, or whether I'd ever marry again. For that matter, I've wondered whether I'd ever want to live with someone before marriage, or if this time, I'd wait until the rings were on before moving in together. I've wondered whether more kids will come along one day, be it by birth or marriage. It's weird, I guess, to think about what my kids' lives will be like as they grow up. I remember what it was like when my parents remarried, and I first gained two new siblings, and later, three siblings more. So I wonder now how many brothers and sisters my own kids will have, whether step or half.. I wonder if they'll have a stepmom and a stepdad. I'm not especially close to my own stepparents, but as an adult, I can appreciate the roles they played in my life as I grew up. I always lived with my mom and my stepdad, but I never appreciated the hand my stepfather had in helping me become an adult until I was already an adult. I never lived in a house with my stepmom, and I've truly never had much connection with her either, but I can appreciate the support she gave to my father after my parents' divorce. My mom has been remarried for 14 years, and my dad for, I believe, 12 years. I'm not yet 24 years old, so those marriages have lasted for a significant period of my life. So I wonder now, who the people are that will one day be a part of my child's lives everyday. I wonder when or if my ex husband will remarry, and if my kids will like her. I hope that one day I'll remarry, and I wonder if I'll have stepchildren, how those kids will like my kids, and how they'll interact. I wonder if, when I'm looking to buy my first house, I'll be looking for a three bedroom house for myself and my two kids, or if I'll be looking at bigger houses. Will there be rooms for stepchildren? Rooms for more children that, maybe one day, I'll have? It's a lot to ponder, but it's fun and it's scary, and I love it.
I don't think that anybody could ever love my children the way that Jesse and I do, or that I'll ever be able to love another man's child the way they he loves his own. But the way I see it, everybody in the world could use more love. You can never get enough, right? So if my ex husband can find a woman who will even try to love my children the way that he does, or if I can find a man who can try to love my babies like he loves his own, I'm happy with that. I'm inviting, with open arms, the opportunity to let those in who can love my children as they grow through childhood into adolescence and beyond. I'm letting love in. For me. For my kids. For my life and for my future.
Anyway, all of that brings me to the thought that spurred all of that. When I've tried to picture my future relationships, I've questioned to myself whether I'd ever live with a man again, or whether I'd ever marry again. For that matter, I've wondered whether I'd ever want to live with someone before marriage, or if this time, I'd wait until the rings were on before moving in together. I've wondered whether more kids will come along one day, be it by birth or marriage. It's weird, I guess, to think about what my kids' lives will be like as they grow up. I remember what it was like when my parents remarried, and I first gained two new siblings, and later, three siblings more. So I wonder now how many brothers and sisters my own kids will have, whether step or half.. I wonder if they'll have a stepmom and a stepdad. I'm not especially close to my own stepparents, but as an adult, I can appreciate the roles they played in my life as I grew up. I always lived with my mom and my stepdad, but I never appreciated the hand my stepfather had in helping me become an adult until I was already an adult. I never lived in a house with my stepmom, and I've truly never had much connection with her either, but I can appreciate the support she gave to my father after my parents' divorce. My mom has been remarried for 14 years, and my dad for, I believe, 12 years. I'm not yet 24 years old, so those marriages have lasted for a significant period of my life. So I wonder now, who the people are that will one day be a part of my child's lives everyday. I wonder when or if my ex husband will remarry, and if my kids will like her. I hope that one day I'll remarry, and I wonder if I'll have stepchildren, how those kids will like my kids, and how they'll interact. I wonder if, when I'm looking to buy my first house, I'll be looking for a three bedroom house for myself and my two kids, or if I'll be looking at bigger houses. Will there be rooms for stepchildren? Rooms for more children that, maybe one day, I'll have? It's a lot to ponder, but it's fun and it's scary, and I love it.
I don't think that anybody could ever love my children the way that Jesse and I do, or that I'll ever be able to love another man's child the way they he loves his own. But the way I see it, everybody in the world could use more love. You can never get enough, right? So if my ex husband can find a woman who will even try to love my children the way that he does, or if I can find a man who can try to love my babies like he loves his own, I'm happy with that. I'm inviting, with open arms, the opportunity to let those in who can love my children as they grow through childhood into adolescence and beyond. I'm letting love in. For me. For my kids. For my life and for my future.
Living by.
I'm in the middle of this weird internal frame of mind where I have the blogging bug, but at the same time, am facing some impenetrable mental block. So instead of writing things straight from the brain, I thought maybe I'd just start a little collection of all of the quotes and lyrics and mantras that have gotten me through the last year plus. When I got a new phone last week, I ended up looking through some of the notes I'd saved with the quotes, and it made me realize I wanted to save them all for posterity, so here goes...
"The clock never stops, never stops, never waits. She's growing old; it's getting late." - Ben Folds
"Everybody knows it hurts to grow up, and everybody knows it's so weird to be back here." - Ben Folds
"We're all okay, until the day we're not. The surface shines, while the inside rots. We raced the sunset, and we almost won. We slammed the brakes, but the wheels went on." - Rise Against
"It happens to everyone as they grow up. You find out who you are and what you want, and then you realize that people you've known forever don't see things the way you do. So you keep the wonderful memories, but find yourself moving on." - Nicholas Sparks
"Just know, when you truly want success, you'll never give up on it. No matter how bad the situation may get." - Unknown
"Remember that happiness is a way of travel, not a destination." -Roy Goodman
"The powers of this world are very strong. Men and women are moved by tides much fiercer than you can imagine, and they sweep us all into the current." - Philip Pullman, The Golden Compass
"Remember, then, that you are not managing an inconvenience; you are raising a human being." - Kittie Frantz
“Growing apart doesn't change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled. I'm glad for that." - Ally Condie
“'Dear God,' she prayed, 'let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry...have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere - be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.' - Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
And my two very favorites for last...
"You know what? Just move on. Move on with life, and leave those who don't care about you behind. Don't stress over anyone anymore. Don't continue to hold on to those words and promises they once told you. They proved themselves wrong; all it did was hurt you. Just keep fighting. Move on because they were just a chapter in the past - but don't close the book. Keep your head up high, and just turn the page." - Unknown
“Your 20’s are your ‘selfish’ years. It’s a decade to immerse yourself in every single thing possible. Be selfish with your time, and all the aspects of you. Tinker with shit, travel, explore, love a lot, love a little, and never touch the ground.” - Kyoko Escamilla
"The clock never stops, never stops, never waits. She's growing old; it's getting late." - Ben Folds
"Everybody knows it hurts to grow up, and everybody knows it's so weird to be back here." - Ben Folds
"We're all okay, until the day we're not. The surface shines, while the inside rots. We raced the sunset, and we almost won. We slammed the brakes, but the wheels went on." - Rise Against
"It happens to everyone as they grow up. You find out who you are and what you want, and then you realize that people you've known forever don't see things the way you do. So you keep the wonderful memories, but find yourself moving on." - Nicholas Sparks
"Just know, when you truly want success, you'll never give up on it. No matter how bad the situation may get." - Unknown
"Remember that happiness is a way of travel, not a destination." -Roy Goodman
"The powers of this world are very strong. Men and women are moved by tides much fiercer than you can imagine, and they sweep us all into the current." - Philip Pullman, The Golden Compass
"Remember, then, that you are not managing an inconvenience; you are raising a human being." - Kittie Frantz
“Growing apart doesn't change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled. I'm glad for that." - Ally Condie
“'Dear God,' she prayed, 'let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry...have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere - be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.' - Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
And my two very favorites for last...
"You know what? Just move on. Move on with life, and leave those who don't care about you behind. Don't stress over anyone anymore. Don't continue to hold on to those words and promises they once told you. They proved themselves wrong; all it did was hurt you. Just keep fighting. Move on because they were just a chapter in the past - but don't close the book. Keep your head up high, and just turn the page." - Unknown
“Your 20’s are your ‘selfish’ years. It’s a decade to immerse yourself in every single thing possible. Be selfish with your time, and all the aspects of you. Tinker with shit, travel, explore, love a lot, love a little, and never touch the ground.” - Kyoko Escamilla
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Two days post-op.
My surgery was yesterday, and it ended up being pretty brutal. Once my surgeon made the incision and looked around with the scopes a bit, I guess he discovered the damage to the patella and the underlying cartilage was far worse than what the MRI had presented. So he cleaned me up, stitched me up, and here I am, on my way to being almost as good as new. I stayed overnight in the hospital, and my mom stayed with me throughout, which was not only helpful, but comforting. My sweet Spencer also visited me when I was in post-op recovery, and brought me a beautiful orchid to make my sterile feeling hospital room just the slightest bit homier. Recovery hasn't been too awful so far, but the variety of pain meds I'm on are keeping me as comfortable as I can be, following such a big surgery. I had IV meds in the hospital, paired with a pain pump into my femoral artery, and oral meds. I was worried once the IV came out, the pain would become intolerable, but I've actually managed it okay thus far.
Spencer stayed with me last night, which sort of blows my mind a little bit. After all, we haven't known each other all that long, but he stepped right into the role of caregiver, and has been absolutely wonderful. I can't move around much without help, since I'm hooked up to a nerve blocking pain pump and an ice pump that wraps my knee, not to mention the pain, exhaustion, and dizziness that keeps me pretty bed bound. But he got up with me each and every time, unhooking everything and guiding me right onto my crutches without hesitation. It's unbelievable to me how helpful and comforting he has been to me since my injury, but particularly during this post-operative period. Hopefully I'll come up with someway to show my absolute appreciation for his reassuring and comforting support.
As I write this, my apartment is filled with the amazing smells of fajitas and all the fixin's, as Spencer cooks up his own chef's specialty, which just happens to be of my favorite Mexican variety. I am, of course, laid up in bed, but comforting sounds surround me, giving me an undeniable feeling of peace and happiness. From the pots and pans clinking as he sautés his way through the kitchen, to the occasional cracking *shwick* of a Bud Light being opened, to the dreary plipping of the raindrops outside of the window, and especially of his fingers on his guitar, I am far more cheerful and serene than ever would be expected at only 48 hours post-op.
This life, I am so happy for.
Spencer stayed with me last night, which sort of blows my mind a little bit. After all, we haven't known each other all that long, but he stepped right into the role of caregiver, and has been absolutely wonderful. I can't move around much without help, since I'm hooked up to a nerve blocking pain pump and an ice pump that wraps my knee, not to mention the pain, exhaustion, and dizziness that keeps me pretty bed bound. But he got up with me each and every time, unhooking everything and guiding me right onto my crutches without hesitation. It's unbelievable to me how helpful and comforting he has been to me since my injury, but particularly during this post-operative period. Hopefully I'll come up with someway to show my absolute appreciation for his reassuring and comforting support.
As I write this, my apartment is filled with the amazing smells of fajitas and all the fixin's, as Spencer cooks up his own chef's specialty, which just happens to be of my favorite Mexican variety. I am, of course, laid up in bed, but comforting sounds surround me, giving me an undeniable feeling of peace and happiness. From the pots and pans clinking as he sautés his way through the kitchen, to the occasional cracking *shwick* of a Bud Light being opened, to the dreary plipping of the raindrops outside of the window, and especially of his fingers on his guitar, I am far more cheerful and serene than ever would be expected at only 48 hours post-op.
This life, I am so happy for.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
All that I am.
I've been swirling my last several relationships in my head all day, wondering how to make them stop affecting my life. I realized though, after much thought, that the only way my last relationships won't affect my present and future relationships is if I consciously, day after day, don't allow them to. At least that's what I have to do for now. I'm sure, once my past isn't so closely past, that it won't be conscious at all. But right now, when my past isn't really all that past for me, it's something I'm going to have to work at. My past relationships destroyed themselves, so why should I, even for a moment, give them the chance to destroy anything else? I've touched on why my marriage ended, but not really my relationships since.
In each scenario, things ended because, at the end of the day, who I am wasn't enough for the person I was with. Whether it was one rash decision to choose another woman, or the baggage, if you will, that my marriage handed me, or just some physical aspect of myself that someone didn't like, I wasn't enough. But I'm trying to teach myself that that's okay. If I wasn't enough for that person, the relationship would never have been a happy one anyway. But to someone, maybe I will be enough. Maybe, just maybe, the man I'm with now, will always find that I am enough, now and henceforth. It's tough because the inner, self conscious, low esteemed Hilary likes to repeat in my brain the many reasons why I'll never be enough. But the strong, confident Hilary tries to shush her down and tell me that I am enough. Who I am and the baggage I hold is exactly what someone in this world will love one day. It's a battle fought day by day, even hour by hour, but I won't allow my past to dictate my future anymore. I am enough.
In each scenario, things ended because, at the end of the day, who I am wasn't enough for the person I was with. Whether it was one rash decision to choose another woman, or the baggage, if you will, that my marriage handed me, or just some physical aspect of myself that someone didn't like, I wasn't enough. But I'm trying to teach myself that that's okay. If I wasn't enough for that person, the relationship would never have been a happy one anyway. But to someone, maybe I will be enough. Maybe, just maybe, the man I'm with now, will always find that I am enough, now and henceforth. It's tough because the inner, self conscious, low esteemed Hilary likes to repeat in my brain the many reasons why I'll never be enough. But the strong, confident Hilary tries to shush her down and tell me that I am enough. Who I am and the baggage I hold is exactly what someone in this world will love one day. It's a battle fought day by day, even hour by hour, but I won't allow my past to dictate my future anymore. I am enough.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
All I Desire.
What a weekend it was! I got to spend the last three days with sweet Spencer. Since I woke up with conjunctivitis on Friday, our plans to go to our favorite little dive bar that night were nixed, and instead we spent an evening at home. First though, we went on a hunt to search for an inexpensive dart board to put up on my patio. Hey, what better idea could we have for two people who like to have fun on the cheap? We really did have a great weekend with the little investment that was the dart board and cheap beer, as well as some great tunes on the iPod. He makes me laugh so much that I don't know if I ever stop smiling when I'm in his company. I'm sure that sounds just as pukey and lame as it does sweet, but I mean it - it's true.
We may have enjoyed the alcohol slightly too much last night, so I woke up with a killer headache that luckily didn't last too very long. Later on this afternoon, I got to meet little Fox Rocket, Spencer's little dude. He was adorable, and I could see his daddy in both his features and his actions. It was a bit of a strange situation for me, and I wasn't quite sure how it would act when it happened. I've never dated a single dad, so I've of course never had to meet the child of someone I'm interested in. It was so nice though - to not be the one doing the introducing, but instead get to be the one being introduced, and getting to watch my boyfriend interact with his son. There's something about parenthood though that changes a person. It changes you on a grand scale, of course. You're never the same once you become a parent, but it changes you on a smaller, day-to-day scale too. I got to see the daddy part of Spencer for the first time, and it was adorable and endearing, and made me a little weak in the knees. What's not to adore about a man who is so clearly head over heels for his child?
Boyfriend. That's what I called him a few sentences back. I like the sound of that. Love it, actually. It wasn't intentional. In fact, I didn't realize I'd typed it until it had already flowed from my fingertips. Boyfriend. I'm still wrapping my head around it a little, I think, but it's new, so I'm sure that's normal and I'm rolling with it. Sometimes (read: all the time), I wish I could peer into his skull, and see if his lines of thought run parallel to mine. It's a clever kind of love, I think. This clever love won't tire.
We may have enjoyed the alcohol slightly too much last night, so I woke up with a killer headache that luckily didn't last too very long. Later on this afternoon, I got to meet little Fox Rocket, Spencer's little dude. He was adorable, and I could see his daddy in both his features and his actions. It was a bit of a strange situation for me, and I wasn't quite sure how it would act when it happened. I've never dated a single dad, so I've of course never had to meet the child of someone I'm interested in. It was so nice though - to not be the one doing the introducing, but instead get to be the one being introduced, and getting to watch my boyfriend interact with his son. There's something about parenthood though that changes a person. It changes you on a grand scale, of course. You're never the same once you become a parent, but it changes you on a smaller, day-to-day scale too. I got to see the daddy part of Spencer for the first time, and it was adorable and endearing, and made me a little weak in the knees. What's not to adore about a man who is so clearly head over heels for his child?
Boyfriend. That's what I called him a few sentences back. I like the sound of that. Love it, actually. It wasn't intentional. In fact, I didn't realize I'd typed it until it had already flowed from my fingertips. Boyfriend. I'm still wrapping my head around it a little, I think, but it's new, so I'm sure that's normal and I'm rolling with it. Sometimes (read: all the time), I wish I could peer into his skull, and see if his lines of thought run parallel to mine. It's a clever kind of love, I think. This clever love won't tire.
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