When I was growing up I would always tell my friends I wasn't going to get married. I explained how, if I wanted children I could have them without having a husband.
When I was in my early twenties my friends started getting married. I was asked to be in their weddings and I would watch and help them plan.
That's when I got that stupid little bug in my head that kept telling me how I should be wearing one of those big white dresses while a church full of people looked at me.
I didn't belong in a church! I insisted I was atheist in the 1980's. What was I thinking when I walked down the aisle of a Catholic church?
I often wondered if the only reason I married the person I married, was simply because he was there around the time all of my friends were getting married.
In my heart I new he wasn't the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I now know I got married because I wanted the event, but not the life that came after.
I realized I think about my ex-husband a lot. I don't have any fond memories of my time with him. I'm sure there were some good times, but they've faded from my mind.
Quite frankly, he's repulsive to me now. The life he's chosen for himself is the sorriest thing I've ever seen. If I never had children with this man I would never have to see or hear about him again. And that would be fine with me.
But I did have children with him and they talk to me about him and I just hate the way he communicates with them. The strangest thing about this is they frequently don't speak kindly of him and there are times when the things they say are incredibly rude and disrespectful. I don't care if they are legal adults, as their mother I scold them about speaking of their father that way even though I know if it were reversed, he would not do the same.
It occurred to me that the reason I do think about my ex-husband is because of MY guilt. I entered into a union I knew was not going to be a permanent one. I had children with a person I knew to be of questionable character.
When I was 14 years old I knew what was best for me but when I was 24 I convinced myself otherwise.
Is there a moral to this story? Probably to just follow your instincts. When you don't do what your heart is telling you, many people can get hurt as a result.
Or, when people make mistakes that affect your life, learn from it and make the best choices for your own piece of mind. Being angry and bitter just piles one mistake on top of another.
I would love it if I could have conversations about my children with their father but I can't. It would be great if I didn't feel uncomfortable and/or full of rage when I come in close proximity to the man, but I'm not.
What I'd really like is to be able to move beyond this ancient history.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
You Can’t Go Home
When a child makes the decision to move from the family home, a parent can only wish them well and hope for the best. Unfortunately, when my daughter made that decision almost two years ago, I knew that would be the worst mistake of her life. And as usual…I was correct. Seriously, I’m rarely wrong and I know almost everything. My daughter will back me up on that.
After the worst two years of both of our lives, she broke away from the hell she was in and started making major life changes. One of which was to move back home.
She was settling back into her room. She was helping around the house. She was sitting around talking with me in the evening. She was making a mess in the kitchen. She was drinking all of the milk. She was eating all the food. She was using all of the conditioner. She was doing all of the same things she did before she moved out, but she still had the experience of living on her own. Even if it was for three months and in some of the worst conditions, there was still that taste of independence.
I remember the day I moved from my family home. My mother gave me a greeting card and started crying. I choked back tears too but not for the same reason. She was losing her daughter and I knew I was making a mistake. Maybe she was crying because she knew I was making a mistake too.
After I was married and had three kids and I knew things were bad and I wanted out, I considered moving back home. I chose more misery at the house I was living in with my kids and soon to be ex-husband. Packing up three kids and moving in with my parents was worse than living in a miserable marriage.
It’s not that living with my parents would have been horrible, and it’s not that my daughter isn’t welcome in our family home, but when I look at this from both sides, I can really understand why you can’t go back home. If an adult can’t make it on their own then they must be a failure.
Not logical, but certainly a consideration for every child that has left their family home and had to return.
In my case, I ended up in my house with my kids and the husband moved out.
My daughter? She has moved out again. This time in a more responsible way with a more responsible partner.
Too soon? In my opinion, yes. We’ve discussed it. They’ve discussed it. Now it’s no longer any of my business. As long as she is behaving like a mature responsible adult, I don’t need to be in her business.
I have three adult children. Two live on their own and one is still under my roof. If any of them needed to move back home with me I certainly couldn’t say no, but when they return it sure upsets the household dynamic.
After the worst two years of both of our lives, she broke away from the hell she was in and started making major life changes. One of which was to move back home.
She was settling back into her room. She was helping around the house. She was sitting around talking with me in the evening. She was making a mess in the kitchen. She was drinking all of the milk. She was eating all the food. She was using all of the conditioner. She was doing all of the same things she did before she moved out, but she still had the experience of living on her own. Even if it was for three months and in some of the worst conditions, there was still that taste of independence.
I remember the day I moved from my family home. My mother gave me a greeting card and started crying. I choked back tears too but not for the same reason. She was losing her daughter and I knew I was making a mistake. Maybe she was crying because she knew I was making a mistake too.
After I was married and had three kids and I knew things were bad and I wanted out, I considered moving back home. I chose more misery at the house I was living in with my kids and soon to be ex-husband. Packing up three kids and moving in with my parents was worse than living in a miserable marriage.
It’s not that living with my parents would have been horrible, and it’s not that my daughter isn’t welcome in our family home, but when I look at this from both sides, I can really understand why you can’t go back home. If an adult can’t make it on their own then they must be a failure.
Not logical, but certainly a consideration for every child that has left their family home and had to return.
In my case, I ended up in my house with my kids and the husband moved out.
My daughter? She has moved out again. This time in a more responsible way with a more responsible partner.
Too soon? In my opinion, yes. We’ve discussed it. They’ve discussed it. Now it’s no longer any of my business. As long as she is behaving like a mature responsible adult, I don’t need to be in her business.
I have three adult children. Two live on their own and one is still under my roof. If any of them needed to move back home with me I certainly couldn’t say no, but when they return it sure upsets the household dynamic.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)