This morning I set in my bed, next to my husband who is not fully asleep. I know this because he is facing me and not snoring. But I feel a need to write about him, the life we have, how we got to this point and where we will go from here. So, knowing he will read this at some point, I decide it is our life but it is also my life. At this moment I am going to take my first steps onto the path of selfishness and begin to publicly share my life, that I am in charge of, without regard for his opinion.
One may find it unfair and selfish of me to air our life from my view point with no concern about his feelings. I will say simply this... in our 7 years of marriage, he may feel that I have been difficult, he really can say what ever he feels, but reality in my eyes is that I have rarely been selfish nor have I put my wants or needs above my family very often, but today I am writing again for the first time in years and I intend to do so as honestly as I possibly can.
My first thoughts for this blog stem from a lot of soul searching, recent honest discussions, heart breaking realities and looking back that has taken place in my life recently.
Looking at the person I was only seven or eight years ago compared to the me of today has been difficult, but necessary. The day I met my husband I was a single mother who had recently accepted that I could not force people who had chosen to exit my life to stay or appreciate how much I did love them. with the long road to that revelation had came changes within me. I had a nice strong wall, a heart that questioned and guarded everything, but I still believed there were good people in the world, I felt safe in my bubble, even with my x trying to pop it any chance he came upon. I had confidence that I could do anything I wanted to. I felt strong and able to live my life with my daughters on my own and go to college and survive this world whole and happy. I was a part time soldier, a mother and a student. I was strong enough to do all of this while working full time and dealing with some deployment related health issues. I was smart, strong, confident and mostly happy.
Part of my feeling good about who I was came from all the things I have talked about already, but part of my self worth came from my ability to close the door on my childhood and build a life where my children would never know about, hear about or realize the true nature of the things I had dealt with in my childhood. They would only know about the good things.... my dad who became my dad when I was in second grade, living on a dirt road surrounded by his family, working at young ages, go-carts, fishing, four wheelers, bullfrogs and blackberries growing wild near my home.
Those are the things I would carefully select and share with my children, I would leave out a long dark past full of drunken rages, kidnappings, child molesters and white trash memories. I had already made sure my daughters would only ever know the good. The bad was off limits to them and I assured this by closing the bad up in it's own dark little place, putting a lot of distance between me and any link to that part of my life and leaving it in the past. For my ability to do that I was strong and proud.
I cracked open that heavy door only once, because I had to in order to do the right thing for a child who needed protecting. In the process I shared a few bits of information with only two people, a DHS case worker, and the one person that I trusted beyond anyone else in my life. Now, eight years later the one person that I trusted to keep the few secrets that they knew has ripped that door wide open and spilled the contents out for his friends to play with. This blog will be my attempt to put my secrets out in the open so that never again will anyone be able to use them against me. It will be my attempt to work through the loss of my strength, my pride, my security and my white trash roots that until now have always served in making me a stronger person.
As of today, no one will be in charge of keeping my secrets or exposing my history, because I am in charge of my life. I will put my life out there on my terms and in my viewpoint, no one else has a right to play with my pain or secrets, I am taking charge of my own telling.
I hope that somewhere along the way some person who is struggling with their own closet full of memories will find a grain of hope for their future by reading about my fight to regain control of my life.