The Things I Fear Sharing…

I have to admit that I watch the people’s lives around me and I often feel jealous. I watch people so in love and I’m happy for them, but I want that for myself. I see women that are supported in life by loved ones, and I’m happy for them, but I want that for myself. I have friends that are so secure in themselves and completely happy and content alone, and I want that too. My own life is a mix of chaos and work and often times, pain. Lately, I’ve been working 7 days a week between both jobs, and I’m simply burnt out on top of everything else.

Every day, my alarm goes off at 3:30am, and I know that no amount of snooze button hitting is going to make me feel like getting up while still getting out the door on time. I make coffee and use it and music to pull me out of my sleepy stupor. I get ready, defrost my car, and drive to the plant where hundreds of us file in like cattle herded in for slaughter. My day job is physically demanding and even with coveralls, multiple layers of coats, and hats and gloves, it’s not enough to keep out the cold of the day I spend most of my hours in. If I have nothing going on after work, I come straight home, cold, dirty, and exhausted. I don’t have much energy to accomplish much in the evening. On a good day, I’ll cook, maybe do some laundry, shower, and get everything ready for the next day. But some days, it’s a minor miracle if I can even get myself into the shower. Because my kids are in after school activities at a school in another town, I’m lucky if I can even see them for a few minutes before I have to go to bed. It’s all so very lonely.

On the weekends, I work a second job. Even though the hours are far fewer than a full day at my day job, that job is also physically demanding. I come home from that one in more pain than any person should have to endure just to make a living. Chronic pain, plus working physically hard jobs 7 days a week, plus extreme loneliness is a perfect recipe for heartache.

When I work late at night on the weekends and the people I want to see are unavailable and I come home to a quiet, messy house, my feelings are… I’m not sure I can even easily describe them actually. In my moments alone, where my mind and heart can ramp up with sadness and anxiety… it’s not pretty. It’s downright ugly actually. As human beings, we are meant to have more than this in life. We need genuine connections. We need things to look forward to. We need love (in many ways, not just romantic love).

Sometimes, I crawl into bed and I can’t hold it together anymore. I take off the mask I wear for the world, and I cry. I do the ugly cry with body shaking, soul quaking sobs. I think about how fast my children’s childhoods have gone by. I think about how little time left I have with them in my home, and I’m working and otherwise wasting the remaining time away. I think about how badly I wish my family was closer and how my brother is going to have baby that will likely be no closer to me than my sister’s child is. I think about the things and people I desire. I think about every failure and hurt and pain in my life, and I cry until my pillow is soaked and I no longer have the energy to do anything but give in to sleep.

I post a lot on Facebook about being empowered and strong and taking care of myself, which is all true, but this stuff is the ugly truths that I don’t speak of. Even when I’m having a Facebook meltdown and dropping F-bombs like candy on Halloween, I still keep my most inner pain to myself. Even in this post, I hold it all close. I can weep as I write and think of all of the things that pierce my heart to the very core, but I don’t dare speak of them. This is why I have written less lately. I’ve been afraid. I’ve been afraid that if I write, I’ll tell you……my whole heart.

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I Just Want To Matter…

How much can one woman take?! Like, seriously, how much can one person be expected to take without completely falling apart…? I’m at my limit these days. I know that in my personal life and on my personal Facebook, all I talk about is working constantly. I’m boring and redundant, and I’m sure half of my “friends” have unfollowed me, but outside of work, I really have nothing. My kids are teenagers doing their own thing, and with work, I barely see them. I seem to be short on friends these days, and of course, always heavy in heartache. Why? Because I always give too much of myself to others.

We live in a day and age where dating is a difficult concept. We sleep with people we’re not committed to. We give our hearts away to people that don’t really want to receive them. We get close, spend time, put our hearts and souls into, and even fall in love with people we’re not even in a relationship with. Sex is free and easy and means nothing anymore. So many men want to spout off about how they’re not ready for a relationship, but they want the sex, the loyalty, the commitment, the support, the cheerleading, to be paid attention to, and everything else from a woman. They don’t want to give a title or their own commitment, but they expect it all.

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As I’m working 6 to 7 days a week, and feeling incredibly lonely, I can’t help but see how I’ve let myself get used. I’m all too often the stepping stone woman. I am a nurturer and a lover and make it so damn easy for men to cling to…while they just need me to get better. I get wrapped up in my feelings and thinking that we’re on the same page, only to end up devastated later.

I have so much to give, and I give it freely. Unfortunately, the wrong ones take it. When is it my turn? When is it my turn to be cared for, to be appreciated, to be loved…? I really just want it to be my turn to be the one receiving all of a pure heart. I want a man to look at me with love in his eyes, the same love that I feel for him. I don’t want to be the stepping stone to be used. I just want to matter… And you know what? I deserve it.

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Erroneously Fallen

It’s funny how we break, we heal, we break again and repeat…
*Repost from an old blog site*

You stole my heart away too quickly,
I tried not to allow it, but I failed.
Your sweet kisses made my stomach flutter,
And all my hopes against falling suddenly sailed.

Then you told me you couldn’t do it,
Couldn’t start something with someone living an hour away.
And ever since, I’ve fought to not bug you,
Fighting to keep my mouth shut every day.

I try hard to keep my feelings to myself,
Though they occasionally slip out no matter what I do.
You ignore those texts and move to the next,
Leaving me frustrated and a little hurt and confused.

I try to remind myself there are others,
That you’re not the only one who could kiss me the amazing way you have.
But it’s just your smiles, sneaking glances, and tender touches,
I seem to still want so bad.

It is what it is, unfortunately.
That’s become my new catch phrase.
But I’d be lying my ass off if I said,
I wasn’t completely captured by your ways.

The feelings will go away, I know.
Things will end up alright.
But for now, it’s not going away quickly,
And it’s you I dream of every night.

I Deserve Respect

A few months back, I wrote a blog called Do I Deserve Love? In this blog, I talked about deserving self-love and love from others. Since writing this, I’ve done much thinking about how I deserve more than just love; I deserve respect.

I think we all know that relationships start off great or there wouldn’t be a relationship in the first place. What blows my mind though is how much I didn’t have enough respect for myself that, as quickly as my last relationship went downhill, I didn’t walk away. I knew that I deserved respect from him, but I didn’t demand it. Instead, I cried. Pretty much every day. He walked all over my emotions, and I allowed it. He didn’t respect me, and worse than that, ~I~ didn’t respect me. I would often look in the mirror with tears flowing, watch the brokenness on my face, and know that some day I was going to write this blog.

This whole respecting myself and demanding respect from others is apparently a current theme in my life. I’m often stubborn and it takes a lesson a few times for me to get it. So right now, I’m under a wave of this current one. From the ex that I let hurt my heart repeatedly, to the “man” that couldn’t respect me enough to keep his hands to himself after I’d repeatedly said no, to so many more I don’t wish to list here, I have allowed disrespect. Looking back on all of this hurts my heart deeply. No matter how broken I’ve felt from the pains of my past, I’ve not deserved the treatment I’ve received. I haven’t deserved hurtful words, I haven’t deserved crying myself to sleep wondering and questioning my worth, I haven’t deserved to be strung along and let down. What I do deserve is respect–from others and from myself.

While I didn’t see it initially, respect and love go hand-in-hand. It is impossible to truly love without the respect. I get this now, and it’s the first step to gaining any kind of a meaningful relationship in life. So now I’m at the beginning of a new chapter once again, and I know that it starts with respecting myself and no longer allowing giving my attention to anyone else not first giving me respect.

I don’t know when love will enter my life again. It could be next week or it could be years down the road, so for now, I’ll be loving myself knowing that the right man isn’t going to hurt me and make me question my self-worth. Never again will I lose myself in disrespect. Instead, I’m losing the losers. Adios, baby!

I choose respect. I choose love. I choose me.

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*Image has unknown source*

In My Bed

I do a lot more thinking in bed than I would like to, especially lately. Last night, I was lying there wishing for sleep but experiencing some pretty intense back pain from work that left sleep elusive for a long time. This time though, while I was lying there, this blog idea came to me.

I laid there last night thinking about beds. As an adult and a parent, so much happens in bed. It’s the place that lovers make love. It’s the place that moms comfort sick children. It’s often where laundry gets folded, where we take reprieve from stress in the middle of the day, even if only for a moment, and where exhausted people fall in at night in hopes of good sleep.

A lot happens in bed as grownups, and I know that for many of us, it’s our favorite place. When I have a lover, my favorite time of day is when I get to set aside life’s stress and cuddle up to the man I love. I love those few moments of talking, winding down, and snuggling up. I love to lie my head on his chest and just listen to the heart I love beat. If I’m lucky, in those moments before sleep, I get to use my body to show him just how I feel, but even if I don’t, I’m still so happy to breathe in his scent and feel his breathing with mine as we drift off to sleep.

As a single person, I know bed is still my favorite place, just obviously for different reasons. Lately, it’s because my bed is my sanctuary. I get up every day with a determination that I’m going to give my all into making a good life for myself and my kids with just us. I’m making specific effort into not using any of my old Band-Aids to temporarily ease pain. I have a history of turning to unhealthy coping mechanisms to mask hurts, and I’m hell bent on not turning to those this time. There’s no men that aren’t special to me. No slamming whiskey doubles home alone while I feel sorry for myself. No pot smoking while indulging in high calorie, high fat, high sugar foods to stuff my feelings down.  So instead, I take care of my adult responsibilities each day. I get up, I clean, I do laundry, I take care of the animals, I do all the mommy things (oh my gosh, single parenting is tough work), I keep up with my self-care (which is going to be revealed in depth in a later blog), and I go to work.

Coming home from work, I know I get to still set aside life’s stress and fall into my favorite place, bed. I may be alone in it now, but I get to relax, I get to rest my weary and aching body, I get to just be still. No more stress for the day, no more “adulting,” and no more effort into tackling the world. I get to just breathe.

I feel more peace now than I have in a quite a while. The stress can be high, but there is so much relief in doing things the right way. I’m loving this new me. I’m still the same strong, feisty, sassy woman, but I’m also the woman that for the first time in her entire life, is proudly standing tall in her choices, knowing that she couldn’t be doing any better. So, here’s to my new life, here’s to late night thinking and creativity, and here’s to my bed!

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He Comforts Me

As I’m sitting in a waiting room wanting to kill time with a very long wait ahead of me and regretting not having a book in my car, I debate for a while on whether or not I want to blog on my phone (I detest not being able to type with both hands on a keyboard). After reading several others’ posts, I decide to just go for it.

I find comfort in thinking about him, in writing about him, and even in relating to others that are feeling the same with someone else new. As I was reading other writers’ words of dating and love, I wanted to create my own.

He comforts me. He comforts me in ways that are both familiar and unfamiliar. Everyone loves new relationships because the feelings are a rush. We get high on all of the firsts, on the fascination of getting to know one another, on the dopamine rushes flooding the brain with each connection. This is no different with him. It’s a familiar feeling that I have greatly missed.

This man does things that I’m unfamiliar with too though. He uses words I’m not used to. He doesn’t use cookie cutter statements of adoration, but instead, he gives genuine, well thought out, sincere words that make me swoon. Things like:

I’m lucky to have you. You are with me entirely without being over bearing or clingy. It’s like I’m saturated by you and given space at the same time. I love it. I feel balance with you.

Or…

Just know that I want to be there for you, for everything. The way I care about you…

His words are incredible. He’s unlike any man before him and this squeezes my heart. Hard.

He comforts me with those sweet words, tender touches, reminders of being calm in moments of intense stress, and firm hugs to center and ground me. He makes an effort to connect with my children without being pushy or fake. He offers to help. And that smile…oh my goodness, that smile.

I feel intensely for him. We are new and so I cannot call it love. That will come in due time, but what I’m feeling is more than just infatuation. It is strong and grows by leaps and bounds every single day. Well, a couple days ago, we weren’t in a particularly romantic moment, but I was looking at him and just completely overcome by strong emotion. He looked up and gave me that handsome grin and asked, “What?

Nothing,” I blushed, but then I immediately followed up with, “I can’t tell you.

Again, that smile, and he pulled me in close for a kiss and whispered in my ear, “I can’t tell you too.” Can it get any better than this?!

I don’t know where this is going to go, and I’m not looking to try to pin it down any time soon. I’m thoroughly enjoying the ride though, and for the first time in a long time, I’m experiencing (and loving) the butterflies in my heart. As I’m still dealing with all of the same stresses that I have been for months, I’m suddenly much more calm and much more happy.

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The “L word” hasn’t come yet, but I know it will, and when it does…I’m sure there will be a new blog. Until then, I’m going to keep relishing in the butterflies, those gorgeous smiles, and the mischievous twinkle in those dark brown eyes looking at me like I’m the most amazing thing on earth. I am happy, and I deserve this. I can only hope I make him feel the same way, because really, he truly is the most amazing man on earth. He is the comfort in my chaos.

Update: It’s funny how much someone can make him or herself appear to be someone they are not. This all quickly fell apart and you can read the updates in Onward and Upward, Baby!In My Bed, and I Deserve Respect.

 

Baby, It’s Blooming

I have not been quiet about the fact life has been hard for me the last 9 months. I also have not been quiet about the fact that I’ve been filled with hope and faith that things would eventually get better. And you know what? They have.

While I have endured many hard things, everything from lost friendships, to people that have walked out of my life after promising they never would, to financial hardships, to working 6 to 7 days a week and being away from my kids far more often than I would like to, life is getting better. There have been several factors involved in this improvement.

I have become financially stable (obviously the biggest perk of working my buns off). I am even doing a few things to improve my credit right now. I’m finding my groove at my second job and figuring things out. As my skills are improving, so are my tips and my relationships with my coworkers. I’m comfortable there and largely enjoy it. I’m in a better spot financially than I have been in my entire life.

Another positive is that my kids also seem to be finding their groove in our new life. A lot of the issues have smoothed over as they are becoming more settled, and there are less problems. While I do still have one child that is having a difficult time in general, I recently met with the school and came up with a new schedule and plan. I’m filled with hope that he will figure life out for himself and settle down. Until then, I’ll keep advocating on his behalf and trying to help him.

The reason I’ve had so much pep in my step lately though…I’ve met someone. I’ve had several months of healing, of being truly independent, of learning to love myself. I’d gotten comfortable sleeping alone and not depending on anyone else for anything. I finally became okay being single and just living my life…Then this man showed up.

We started as friends—the way it should be. We talked about life, and we related over real life issues as he took an interest in reading my blogs. There became a desire to talk daily. It then got to a point where we decided we needed to get together in person. We scheduled a meeting to hangout and go do an activity together later on my day off, but we couldn’t even wait the couple of days until then.

As I was just getting off of work at my second job on a weekend night, I texted him. “Come pick me up,” he texted back. Since I was looking for a way to wind down from both jobs, it made sense to go ahead and swoop him up to spend some time together. So I went and got him and we decided to go for a drive out into the country. I parked at a spot that I love just outside of town and immediately knew it was perfect. The smell of the fresh air was intoxicating, and I loved that the frogs were so loud and the cloudless sky gave a crystal clear view of the stars that you can’t get in town.

We sat there in the night on the hood of my car and talked about anything and everything. I felt such peace knowing I didn’t have to rush anywhere and the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment was him sitting next to me. I don’t know how long we were out there in the middle of the night, but I eventually stood up in front of him. As the desert air got colder, I leaned into his warmth. As we stood this way talking, I couldn’t really see his face in the dark, but I could feel his desire to kiss me moments before he said he wanted to. As he gently took my face in his hands and pulled me, I melted.

He was sweet and gentle and everything I needed. We didn’t know it yet, but the natural and easy way we had connected before this occasion was an accurate prediction of how good this would be too. He held me tenderly for a long while as we explored those first kisses together. I eventually pulled away, breathless, to say that I was cold and it was late and that we should get back. Neither of us wanted to be apart, but we had to. I took him back home and then I went back to my house. As I crawled into my bed, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so good.

We’ve seen each other every day since. After the last almost year of being single, I feel truly prepared to enter a relationship for the first time in my life. I haven’t rushed, it’s not forced, and I’m not settling. This man amazes me daily with how sweet, selfless, tender, kind, and attractive he is. I’m naturally a little afraid because I’m vulnerable, but I still want to give my all to him. There is trust already in a variety of ways, and I’m willing to put myself out there and allow him into my heart. Letting him in is the only way to know if it will work, and Lord knows, I’m hoping so much for success.

I wrote in a blog post last winter that I felt that my personal life was going to bloom when spring blooms outside. I don’t know where that faith came from, but you know what? Baby, it’s blooming.

I don’t know what happens from here, but my hopes are sky high that maybe, just maybe, this was my last first kiss.