Ugh, another day to grieve. Not grief that I have sons, but who they get to see me as. I wish they could have known the person I was before I married their dad. Clearly, I was badly broken then, as evidenced by my entry into a marriage in which there had not been a lasting moment of safe and genuine connection between us. I am not ungrateful for the gift and opportunity (for unlearning and cycle breaking) – the lessons which could come only from the faimiliar pain of our tragic dynamic.
When I first met their dad, I was thriving in many ways—working full-time as a tenured, master teacher, playing beach volleyball several times a week, working part-time at Starbucks for fun, and actively participating in a book club. I was enjoying homeownership with my dog in Southern California – after having transplanted myself from the East Coast and extended international travels.
My Boys’ Mom 2015 – 2024: a hopelessly lethargic, fearful, easily triggered isolator – barely managing physical and emotional pain – Avoids most situations for fear of becoming overstimulated and then reacting badly. Aside from possibly recognizing me as a dedicated employee, a highly compassionate person with integrity, and fiercely loyal to them, I can name little else about myself which brings me pride or might feel useful to them.
Maybe someday they’ll recognize:
- Their father tends to choose women who serve a purpose for him or impress him, women who can help him move forward.
- That he likely wouldn’t have chosen me as I am now, which perhaps suggests that I once had much to offer.
When we met, I was a fit, fun, adventurous, well-paid, well-traveled, well-read homeowner. And in barely a year, despair overtook me, and I couldn’t consistently lose myself in reading for pleasure or volleyball. My energy was drained, and no longer able to pour myself into the magic of teaching, I took a leave of absence and opted for less important(soulful) work. All focus and energy were directed at efforts to make our marriage less miserable—less like my family of origin.
I love my sons deeply and admit that I haven’t been able to love (the verb- not the feeling), engage, and support them as fully or effectively as a healthier, thriving person would. I will continue to work on emotional, phyiscal, and financial healing and wellness, one day at a time.
Nothing makes me sadder than being unable to create or even a pariticipate in fun and meaningful experiences with my precious boys. I have really missed out, as have they.
