I moved… again.
I'm settling in… again.
I like my neighbors… again.
I'm feeling more like me everyday.
Only not me… a new me, different me, changed me.
Me in the middle.
I am still alone but it's more palatable. I have a schedule, routine, and plan. I'm finding balance and structure which is a warm, fuzzy security blanket I can cuddle up inside. I can breathe, I can think, maybe I can even start to thrive again.
It is still painful to wake up everyday knowing I'm not worth fighting for or keeping. That'll sting for a while. Because of my faith in Christ I know am worthy of love and affection and, even though I'm eccentric and quirky, I like who I am and know other people find me endearing. Also, on a purely statistical level I know it won't be long until someone will be bold enough to risk putting in the time to earn my trust. I don't want “happily ever after.” I want “together forever, no matter what.” That takes time and risk to prove.
My current favorite country song is “Real Men Love Jesus” within it the line "They don't believe in leaving." I know there are plenty of guys out there who believe in sticking the tough stuff out. I know I only need one to see my value, and try for me... but I'm kind of afraid to trust again and just really want to get to know people right now. But after talking to some genuinely good guys I'm afraid what I want is different than them. I don't want an exclusive relationship but I do want to know their souls but that takes time and vulnerability and trust, none of which happens fast. I don't want to lead anyone on or give them false hope. I want a man who proves he'll stay no matter what. The way I see it, that happens by hanging with guys and seeing who sticks. There's hope for anyone who sticks around for a long time, but it seems kind of mean because what if they put in the time and it doesn't lead into a relationship. It makes being alone seem preferable to trusting too soon or hurting someone unintentionally while I take my time and they wait. The problem is the wondering, worrying, fantasizing and imagining how it'll all play out.
It drains my creative energy… I want that back!
But… that's not the only thing sucking my energy. I'm desperately trying to figure out this single mom thing. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I wish I had a partner to balance and coordinate my thoughts, plans and emotions with but as it turns out… in this too, I am alone. I have counselors, friends, family and books to guide me but there is no one but me to do this day in and day out. The problem is I never know if what I'm doing is right. I am a learner, a direction seeker. I want advice, suggestions and people to be bold enough to tell me if I'm messing up. After I've learned then… I want to practice. It's not fair to my kids they have to be my guinea pigs, but that's the way it is.
My kids are cool kids, amazingly talented, smart and witty but also stubborn, strong-willed and hard to handle. I want to do right by them, and God and society. I want to raise them or support them in being productive citizens. I'm trying my best and hardest but it's so hard to know what's right in parenting them. And it's humiliating to have to deal with the hard things they, one in particular, throw at me. I feel incapable, but I won't give up.
I'm trying but I usually feel like such a failure. This last month has been wrought with tension, police and second-guessing everything I do or say in the realm of parenting. I try to compartmentalize and not talk about it much because I'm so embarrassed at how things were going (although we're on a good streak for the last few days). All I can say is #1: I'm tired but I'm not a quitter and I can stay the course and #2: this is hard but I'm doing my best, I'm trying my hardest, my intentions are good even if my words or actions miss the mark sometimes.
That's what I got this week.
This is my life.
I am alone, but I prefer it to trusting too soon.
I am a struggling single mother.
I am doing my best.
I am making it.
I am OK.