Continuing with Grace

Forgiving myself for naivete

Much of my 20’s so far have been filled with promises to show up for others before myself. This has led me to nothing short of entire sacrifice — single motherhood.

I never imagined this for myself. I mean, not many women would, ideally. I spend more time than I’d like to admit contemplating how I’ve created this reality for myself. And it hurts me to think about. Oftentimes, I still, in desperation, entertain people I have no business being in relationship or communication with, just because of my fear of being alone again. I feel deeply that many of my choices up to this point are for that exact reason, to not feel alone. In being a single mom, more decisions surface to be made alone. Because of this overstimulation of very quick yet complex decisions made on my own, I find quite a bit of anger in my body and mind for the naïve choices I made as an attempt to bring comfort to the pieces inside of me that have been uncomfortable with being alone. The lack of explanation of the spectrum of truth and reality given in fairytales and my immediate environment led me to think that the path I was taking in becoming someone’s confidant was righteous. The truth and cliché that everything is not as it seems and that everything is not black or white becomes very prevalent when I think of the past 2-3 years of my life. There is quite a bit of nuance and grey area that is unaccounted for in a programmed mind. In a mind that has certain expectations of living, thriving and surviving on Earth. My choices to love someone else more than I have ever loved myself has brought me to a lot more pain, distrust and hatred for others than I ever imagined being present in this body.

I notice in myself now, the reluctance to sit down with myself. I find myself running, looking for something to make me feel like I’m valuable. Looking for someone or something else to make me feel better about who I am in this life. And that scares me. It scares me to feel under-valued (by society and myself) and alone. I thought in my fantasy world of romanticized relationships with ideas of people (that were never true, of course), that I was creating a world that I could survive in. I thought that I was making space for myself where someone else was already existing. In reality, I was hiding myself and my needs even more in the name of showing up with unconditional love. I was ok with being whatever someone else told me to be. I was ok with being their muse, their sex object, their arm candy, their cheerleader. I thought that ultimate unconditional sacrifice was true love. Girl, was I wrong…

The lesson of self love is a tough one that does not let up. It returns over and over again, even when you thought you had it all figured out. This ongoing practice of showing up for yourself creates space to show up for yourself and others in healthy ways.

These days, I find myself with a bit more direction; though, I still feel trapped in my idea of what life should look like after taking the steps I was advised to take when looking for a partner: Find a friendship, stay there for a bit, then, once things are ready to escalate, become partners. I followed these steps and found more pain, lies and confusion than I would have in just staying to myself. I found myself in this karmic relationship, this lesson, because I was desperate to be loved. I was desperate to have someone admire me. I was admiring myself, to a certain level, but I wanted to enjoy the sharing of admiration with another. I didn’t wait for the person to come along that actually wanted to see me for more than an object for consumption. Ya know, I hate to be one of those “male gaze” girlies, but I was SOOO okay with being an object of the male gaze. I wanted the guys to think I was cool. I always have. I have never had many girl friends because I “clicked better with boys.” They were easier to talk to. Little did I know, it was a possible internalized desperation to be a valued woman, a well-desired woman that doesn’t fit the “crazy bitch” stereotype that men trash-talk.

I became one though. A “crazy, bitter baby mom” after dealing with someone that I partnered up with out of desperation. I became the one I never wanted to be, and I couldn’t recognize myself. Which scared me more than being alone. And I’m still working on accepting and forgiving myself for doing what I thought was best for myself and the other(s) involved.

Now, I coparent. I don’t enjoy it, but I do it because my daughter and her father deserve to be there for each other, even if her father and I have no desire to show up for each other anymore… which triggers my hurt of our seeming failure to respect one another… still.

It is what it is. That’s true. What’s also true: I choose to continue with grace, forgiveness, and necessary boundaries.

THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU.

Abby xx