Everyone has a story. And maybe mine is not that unique. But it's not like I'm looking to become the next Van Gogh of blogging. But if but one person can relate-to not feel so damn alone, then maybe that's all I was looking for. Motherhood is full of "aha" moments. I had one not too long ago.
Tonight was nothing new. As I'm sure most nights are when people receive an epiphany (Lol?).
I was dishing up my plate of some boring baked fish with some annoying kale (I do this so I can eat a cheese steak at the end of the week), and I look up across from me.
My beautiful 16 month old daughter who sits in her high chair, with rice remnants in her hair and one hand fisting a balled up chunk of cod, looked at me. With almond blue eyes like her daddy, my cheeks and nose, and the biggest smile she could muster. It felt oddly warm, coming from a toddler-to-be. And in that moment, I had to put my dish down, and smile back at her.
I suddenly realized, that this little girl is going to melt some hearts. This girl who wears her food as hair accessories and cradles her baby dolls and shadows her big brother around the house, is one day going to grow up. As humans all hopefully do.
My heart starts to feel heavy. I worry with exasperation that she will not receive the love that she truly deserves. That she will fill her expanding mind with self doubt,
...or worse-self loathing.
I worry that she will think like me in earlier times. Once upon a time I thought a guy could solve my problems and fix me in my troubling self doubt. Which ironically (but maybe not so), usually resulted in making me feel worse. I'm terrified that she will experience the mental illness thick within the maternal genepool that has affected me and previous generations and blatantly destroyed my mother. How could this beautiful, fiercely independent future woman ever possibly think that way about herself? That she would owe the world an apology for simply existing. For being beautifully flawed. For letting people who she cares about destroy her confidence.
I
Because there is a pretty damn good chance that she will not have to battle those demons that had anchored me for so long. She can hold herself with strength and respect. She doesn't have to let men put her down, not second guess their love, not fight with her in lue of the meaning of love. Or let any man define her in her self worth.
My existence for much of my life, though many times full of vigor and light, was devoured by a nagging darkness that whispered poisonous hymns that I took to heart and let it become a symphony that only grew uglier with time. Strip a girl from everything that is safe and her own, yo-yo her into a place of manipulations and stupors possessed by methamphetamine from the people who were supposed to be her safety net, then continue this cycle until she's nineteen years old will conjure the perfect recipe for a very terrified young woman, who can be quick to find anything to call home.
I stand firm that I will not let their mistakes become me. I stand firm that Emilia's father is truly the kindest and most loving man I could ever hope for. And not only to her, but to yours truly and to her brother as well. I stand firm that I will not abandon my children. My darkness will not become theirs.
For they are my light.
Gawl. That was so super corny!
I hope I didn't bore you to tears, if you even made it this far. This wasn't an elated blog to write. But this is all attached to me, and if writing isn't just the most theuraputic form I ever did experience.
The things we do for our kids, amIright??
