I tossed and turned most of the night. Bad, horrible dreams. Worst in a long time. It’s left me feeling tired, weary, and vulnerable. Everyone was in a mood this morning. What started as a lovely day quickly went off kilter, no matter how much I tried to change the ebb and flow of that tide. It was a great weekend. This week, although busy, should be another amazing work and this coming weekend is my birthday. So why am I feeling so off today?
I suppose it’s a lot of little things. Work has me stressed (happy – but stressed all the same). In the last couple of days, a few folks in my life decided to try and push me in ways I didn’t want to be pushed. In ways they have no right or bearing to do. And when I declined and simply and quietly stated that I was going to go my own way on this, they lashed out. What is that? Is there some rule that says if you have someone in your life who’s a downright giver…that if they don’t submit and do it your way that you have to try and destroy them? What so if they can’t have it no one can? Bunch of bullshit if you ask me. Now I will say – I’ve done a pretty good job of letting it all roll off my back. I almost always do – but today I’m left feeling very drained from it all. It’s gotten old.
To my father – I’m sorry that I’m not what you wanted. It is what it is. I’ve moved on – perhaps it’s your turn too.
To my ex. Just stop. It’s been plenty long enough now. It’s time to move on with your life and quit attacking me for moving on with mine. I wanted to be friends, for the sake of our kids… but now I just want some peace. I am not your wife, I am not your counselor, and lately – I’d barely even qualify as your friend. Quit trying to use me. I won’t stand for it any more.
To the grandparents – not that you’ll ever read this blog. I’m not a boy. I’m not a man. I am a woman. And frankly – it’s time you learned that it’s not 1950 anymore. I’m doing DAMN well for myself. Professionally, as a mother, as a friend and just as me. Please stop with the judgements. Stop with the unrealistic expectations. I can’t do it anymore. Because I love you the way I do, I take those expectations and try and fit and maneuver and squeeze myself to match them. And, to be honest, I’m sick of doing it. It’s time to embrace the shape that is me. Faults and all. It’s no longer the world your generation ruled… it’s mine.
To the folks I care about… to those of you who don’t pile on the unrealistic expectations… thank you. I can’t tell you how much. Need to pull myself from this funk now. Happy to take a hug or two if you’ve got ’em to spare.