My sons and I have recently relocated to a family oriented community filled with children and amenities that support connection and ease of access to families and school aged kids in the neighborhood. I was going deeper into debt with each month that passed in our previous home within a small empty nester community, and we were each longing for readily accessible families with children. We are now located in a more remote area within a community that feels right for raising more well connected children. Connection is key– and as children of divorce, with fractured families on both sides, placing them in a rich community environment is the very best that can be done for THEM.
Unsurprisingly, my decision is reported to have agitated the boys’ father– as I did not include him in my process or plans. It is just plain silly to hope for respect for a decision made for my children, which for obvious reasons I made on my own. Because this is a man who historically and still righteously makes choices which result in unnecessary difficulty and stress for us. He insists on the type of partnership where he is afforded a say/authority over my life with zero accountability for the effects and natural consequences for his own actions and choices. Why do I yearn to have him understand my thinking and decision? His behavior is suggestive(understatement) that he honestly does not give a shit about anything but what suits him personally. His emotional coolness and stoicism up against my intensely feeling presence afforded him more freedom to do as he chose, before I found recovery, which taught me to detach, disengage, and let go of his opinions and fear of reprisal. This is the same with my sister. He trained me for her. He is now happily bonded to my family of origin, with whom I have spent the majority of my life in a state of NO CONACT. (Just for today) I will not waste energy detailing the unwholesomeness of this alliance.
The boys’ father shared with our sons, how he researched homes in his area that are comparable in price to our new home, as proof that I could actually afford a home that would be more convenient for him. Oh. Ok. What he cannot see is the main motivation for OUR move—community for our children and a fenced yard for our dogs. THIS is in no way convenient for me, taking us nearly an hour to get to school. And, I accept this burden because it benefits my children to live in an area developed with children in mind, in a home which mommy can afford. I definitely would have preferred to have planned and decided together how to make best life for us all. But his triangulation with my sister renders that improbable. For me, he remains a non-trusted and non-safe other. It would be literally insane to turn to those who diminish me, for support and feedback about important life decisions. This move was based on the boys’ need and right to have access to other children, where previously we had none– and the reality of my finances.
So, it is from those whom are kind and supportive or in some way contributing to the betterment of life for both my sons and me, that feedback is relevant. Spiritually, this feels sound and prudent. I will pray to let go of the opinions and reactions of those who wish to be in charge. Holding on to hope that they can support anything other than their own images and agendas is as futile as it is depressing. Unless a person is willing to consider a third way, there is no conversation to be had, that will go well.
The idea of co-hosting my son’s birthday party next week currently feels sickening. I am grateful to be willing to let him into our home and to share friends and families with him, which previously, I had to protect. I can do hard things. I am maturing in recovery, one day at a time. Together, with you. Doing hard things is wholesome and badass.
Much Love,
Magda Gee
For shorter, more frequent and fun posts, connect with me on Instagram- wholesomebadass https://www.instagram.com/wholesomebadass/
Today is moving day and my best friend of 40 years helped me pack but is physically unable to be here now. And Sweet Greg who also joined and calmed me from my urge to enter into packing hysteria, is away on a scouting trip…So physically, I am alone for the move. And yet, emotionally, I feel un-alone. The people who show up are always the right people– consistently, without hesitation for the small things that add up to life- random meals, rides to 
airports, sick children, special days, help of all sorts, doggy watching, spontaneous visits. This is how we experience and recognize love-not formal, fancy, or rigorously scheduled and managed. Love, like god, just is— or is not. Love is…not forced
call: “So, that happened” and the beginning of a new chapter. Seems like a fine occasion for some more ink. I looooove getting tattoos at major turning points in my life. Even this difficult chapter enriches the story that is my life. I will not forget the hard times before I have learned and grown from them. Doing one next right thing after another with courage and faith in God and those whom consistently and gladly show up for us, is how we do life. We are now entering into a very wholesome and badass new and exciting chapter. I wonder what it will be called. Maybe “Fk yeh”—much better than the past two years of “fuck 
I love that I have enough recovery to do this for him. This is one of the many gifts of recovery-to do,change, and accept the things I can. Nothing about his father or the objectionable dynamic of his, with my FOO, has or will change. This does not mean I have forgiven or forgotten or believe his father to be a safe person for me. My willingness to work closely with him while he comfortably and righteously diminishes me, is a reflection only of my new knowledge of how to keep my self safe and separate. For one night only— I submit myself to proximity, to which I would otherwise object…. and in my new home. We will make a beautiful memory for this occasion of having mom, dad, brother, and friends altogether, against all odds….because for my children, there are no limits to what I will do FOR them.
greater than my whatever it is which I feel for their father. I am looking forward to the party. I know it will be a fun and special occasion, for so many reasons. And I will not be fooled into thinking that we have begun our new forever. The only thing that changes is me, as I recover and learn to navigate THIS type of dynamic and to create the much needed space, when possible. In my recovery I may do, what would otherwise be both impossible and unthinkable. Happy Birthday Baby—anything for you, always and forever. I will always want to work with your father when it is safe to do so. I believe this occasion to be safe and too sacred to compromise. Every chapter counts, and all of the pages leading up to this are what got us here, otherwise, I would burn them. I love you! Together, we will seek to learn from pain, rather than to forget it. Okay?