Yesterday, I learned something very valuable about myself. As an added bonus, I taught it to myself, so I was the student and the teacher! Talk about an accomplishment!
In short, I found myself in the middle of a battle of words with someone (a good friend’s ex who I knew for twelve seconds.) She insulted my wife, I killed her with kindness and painful truth.
I knew I should let it go. I knew it wasn’t worth my time to respond.
But I did. I told her how I viewed her, her past and her refusal to get help for her addiction. After all, using it as a crutch and an excuse works so much better in her life!
She retaliated with whatever she felt would hurt me the most.
I’m old. And gray. My life is essentially over because I’m so ancient.
I’m disgusting because I whip out my tit to breastfeed my child, who is capable of eating table food.
I’m an “orphan baby” who’s mother is not in my life because she doesn’t love me.
As a matter of fact, Ash is the only person who loves me and I suck so bad that none of my family will have anything to do with me.
I have three children by three different fathers and I’m so clueless I “couldn’t hold a puzzle together with glue.”
And I laughed.
I am gray. And I quite admire how distinguishing it is. I could easily choose to hide it.
I am thirty-five years old. I have lived one hell of a life and learned a great deal in that time. I do not regret, resent or loathe the years behind me.
I will do the best for my children, based on their desires and needs. Bug isn’t ready to fully wean. I’m okay with that. It’s an honor and an accomplishment to have made it this far.
For an orphan, I certainly have a great deal of family and friends (both blood and heart) who surround me.
Not having a mother isn’t the sting that it may have been when I was a small child on the playground. There is nothing missing in my life and, as a matter of fact, I do have a mother. She may not have birthed me, but she loves me. She supports me. She is there when I need advise, a hug or ice cream.
For someone who could never be loved by anyone, I certainly have a full and loving circle of support surrounding me.
And yes, I have three children through three very different avenues. I was a teenaged mother. Seven years later, I adopted a child. Seven years after that, I had a second biological child with my wife.
And you know what? I don’t regret any of my children, how they came to me or who they are.
As a matter of fact, I will fill you in on a secret.
None of what she said to me caused me the slightest bit of pain.
None of what she said angered or upset me in the least. And yet, every gentle comment I said to her caused her to burn up in anger and call me horrible four lettered words.
You know the difference?
I have come to terms with who I am. I have embraced my faults and flaws and accepted them fully.
I am older. I am increasingly more gray. I am an “orphan baby”, in some respects. Some people do tend to consider some of our parenting choices “extreme”. My family ties are strained, but slowly rebuilding.
And you know what? Her weapons yielded no power because I’m okay with all of it.
And I hope, some day, she finds the same peace.