A Letter to my Mother on Mothers Day

Happy Mothers Day, Mom. I would have written this yesterday, but I was waiting to see if you would finally love me more than your pride. You never called but I didn't expect you to. This time, I didn't either. I was busy spending time with my daughters.




I thought a lot about you yesterday, and about the positive things you have taught me. I want to say thanks.




Thank you for constantly forcing me to take sides against with you against others. It taught me to love my babies, even when their view or opinion is different than mine. It taught me that a different mind frame is not a personal attack.




Thank you for frequently leaving me out of family stuff until the last minute, and for letting me know on a regular basis that you love my brothers more. That sounds so petty and jealous, but it's actually not. Because you have actually told me you do. It taught me to talk to my kids. To love them equally as fierce as their sibling and appreciate what makes them unique. To celebrate them and accept them whole heartedly.




Thank you for telling me that the abuse I suffered at the hands of others, both as a child and adult, was my fault. It taught me to accept my responsibility in things, while realizing what was NOT my fault. This lesson was hard but you were a consistent teacher. It developed the lesson for my children that you are responsible for your actions and reactions always, but you are not responsible for others. They may choose to hurt you in some way, but you can choose to not allow, or participate in that negativity.




Thank you for all the hateful things you screamed at me through the years, and the mean names you called me. It showed me the importance of choosing my words carefully, and apologizing when I am wrong. I've made it a point to call my kids names too. Things like snookums, sweet tart, sour skittle when they're moody, etc. A bit opposite scale of what you choose to use, but you get the idea...




Thank you for all the times you used me. Thank you for all the times you kept the people in our lives who had hurt us. Thank you for creating toxic environments. Thank you for the lack of regular affection. Thank you for the times you had me face myself in a mirror and say I was a bad person. Thank you for reminding me that you could have had an abortion. Thank you for showing me how much I owed you for.


Without your "love", I would never have learned to love myself. I would not have accepted that something had to change. I would not have been able to break the cycle, finally, for my babies. I would not have learned how important kisses are, or hugs, or open conversations, or the vitalness of thinking before I speak, among many other things.


Thank you. I would never have been the mom I am today, without you. You taught me how to be the mom I've always dreamed of being, and the mom my girls deserve. You taught me love, by showing me what NOT to do. I know what kind of mom they need, because you were everything I didn't.


Thank you for that. Happy Mothers Day, Mom.

Yes to the dress? I'm not so sure now...

I'm folding laundry, watching Say Yes to The Dress, and I suddenly realize, I'm not excited. I feel like the woman is being frivolous and silly. Why are you buying a dress that you will never wear again?


What. A. Waste.


I wasn't always this way. Once upon a time, a little girl dreamed of getting married. She designed wedding dresses with heart cutouts, long trains, and lace. She drew husbands and wondered what hers would really look like. She grew into a young woman who doodled new last names surrounded by hearts and flowers. She dreamed of happily ever afters and what forever with someone would feel like. She wrote cheesy little notes out of love and vowed to always be romantic.


Fast forward to her 27th year.. she has four kids and one divorce. It feels like a fifth child. Like some label permanently attached. How did I get here? Will I ever get back to that hopeless romantic? You have scarred me, divorce, badly. I hate you.


I remember the moment I found the dress I wanted to marry my ex husband in. I felt faint. I felt butterflies. I felt like suddenly, a missing piece of my life had fallen into place. I had not gone to college, I had not become famous or brilliant, BUT, I was becoming a bride. Here was my success. I would be a wife and mother, and I would be great at it. I adored this man, and he likewise. All my romantic fantasies were being realized. It would have hard times for sure, but true love always trumps evil. Disney told me so.


I never expected it to fall apart. That one day, during one of the hardest things we would go through, I would tell him to leave. And he would. I did not expect him to give up on our vows. For over a year, I fully expected us to stand by our commitment and get through it together. But we did not. I was ruined. What would my kids think? What would my family say? Here, again, was something I failed at.


I met my best friend during this desperation stage. He was patient, he was kind, he was all the things I needed my husband to be. Now, he is my boyfriend. That feels so strange to say after being married. Boyfriend. I have a boyfriend.


I have the BEST boyfriend in the world. He stands by my side, he does his best to listen, he gives me gifts, he cooks, he helps clean, he takes out the trash every morning, he rubs my back and feet, he likes to spend time together, he likes to cuddle, he likes to talk about deep things, he likes to laugh with me, he is faithful, he is romantic, he has a beard! And I am an asshole. I am cold. He has to fight through my emotional baggage to be able to do these things for me. His "I love you's" mean little. I don't like to talk anymore the way I once did. Gifts make me uncomfortable. His romantic, sensitive side feels like weakness. I hate myself because I cannot give him what he needs and craves from me. I love him for loving me, broken. He is perfect and I do not deserve him.


We are attending a relationship strengthening class. This last class, the question was asked, "Why don't yall get married?" It got me thinking, why? Why do I hold back? I love him. He loves me. We have been together for a year as a couple. What is stopping me? I have no qualms about getting a ring or giving him one. I have no problem calling him my fiancee and standing by a commitment I have already made to him. But marriage? Actually buying a dress, and saying vows, and changing my last name? That's where I balk. I have done that already. It wound up meaning nothing. I don't know that I want to get married again.


Which is why I am the WORST girlfriend in the world. My romantic, fantastic boyfriend, wants to accept me completely. He loves me so much, he wants to stand in front of God and the world, look deep into my eyes, and say the words that will bond us heart and soul for eternity.


And I don't.


I do not want to spend money on a dress I really can't afford and that I will never wear again. I do not want to spend money on a place and food that most guests will skip out on. I do not want to say words that look and sound great but have no meaning without the actions to back them up.


Each day we wake up, we make a conscious decision to commit to each other. Tomorrow is not promised. We both show love in our own language. I know where home is and I intend to stay. I don't need a big show to prove it to me. No pledges necessary. Save that for sororities.


But I feel that he does. He has never experienced a wedding. His dreams are still alive. He wants me to feel excited with him about these dreams and I see the disappointment in his eyes when I am not. I feel like I was robbed, and now I am robbing someone else. It's not fair, but I cannot seem to get myself back. Am I the only one who is like this? Am I normal or not? How can I change? I want to see his eyes sparkle, rather than extinguished. I want to be romantic again.