Sometimes, I don’t know who I am.
What makes me, me?
Am I trying too hard to be what and who I was in the past?
If I am not reading,
writing,
singing,
have I lost myself?
Am I just evolving into someone new?
Someone better?
Do I force the old ways?
Embrace new ways?
Sometimes, it feels like too much pressure.
Who am I?
I feel like my emotions have been all out of sorts. Again. I haven’t been reading. I haven’t been writing. It feels like I haven’t really done much of me lately. I find myself feeling scared that maybe I’ve lost me again. The last year has been a crazy new struggle and I feel like for most of it I’ve just been trying to keep myself from drowning. I’ve swung so far back and forth on the emotional pendulum. It would be nice not to feel so…up and down, all the time.
it’s the way you love me
the way you love astounds me
maybe it was like that in the beginning for me
the first time
but it was so long ago I can’t remember
it’s your calm and patience
when I am ugly crying
completely lost in my mind and emotions
it’s the way you remind
everything is going to be all right
we’re going to be all right
I’ve unintentionally trained myself
that if I show to much emotion
if I don’t hold it all together
my partner will bottle up and shut down
but you don’t
you don’t.
I’ll be fine next to you
you hold me when I’m
scared
sad
tired
you brush my hair
with your hand
and tell me not to worry
I will be fine
you hold back judgment
but give so much in
understanding,
patience
I’m always discovering new
reasons I love you
open book
you love me through my every insecurity
your honesty and bluntness
create a unique, safe space for my heart
there is no wondering
what you mean or
how you feel
you are an open book that
I love to read
The Purge
I finally did it. I have been looking at my closet for weeks (months?) now feeling sad. I would see all these cute clothes that just do not fit anymore. I lost so much weight post-divorce, only to gain all of it back post-Covid. Sure, I can totally lose all the weight again, but that won’t happen overnight, and in the meantime, it’s not doing me any good seeing it everyday. It just serves as a constant reminder that I have somehow failed. I don’t want that. So, off the clothes went into bags. They will find new homes somewhere else. And here? Now I just see clothes that actually fit the body I have now and I am so good with that. The only small items I kept were my bridesmaids dresses and the dress I wore on my first date with Nick (because, you know, good memories). When I lose all the weight again, I’ll reward myself with a new wardrobe. Until then, I am here to celebrate and embrace who I am now.
lazy weekends
cozied up next to you
in bed
on the couch
naps and cuddles
all day long
Signed Again, One Tired Momma
It’s only Tuesday and I am already done for the week. Why am I so tired? Only one more day of distance learning. Next week is Spring Break. The boys will be at camp so we all get a break. Then if everything goes as planned, they will finally be back to school in person full-time. To say I am looking forward to it is an understatement. My body is tired and my brain is mush.
Signed, One Tired Momma
The boys started hybrid learning this week. Of course I am feeling guilt about it. I should be keeping them home and safe. I shouldn’t be excited about returning to the office a few days a week. I should be able to just handle it all and not be exhausted and drained by mid-afternoon. I am not a super hero, damn it. I’m one person and I never signed up to be a homeschool teacher. When I got pregnant, it was always my plan to go back to work. I was not going to be a stay-at-home mom. Yes, there are child care options that assist with distance learning, but we quickly discovered that it was better for the kids if they had someone helping them with everything directly. So for the last year I sacrificed my mental and emotional health to do what was best for the boys. I’d do it all over again just the same, but fuck, I am tired. This pandemic is kicking my ass and I am ready for it to be done. I am grateful for the little steps toward normalcy, but actual “normal” cannot come quickly enough.
just us
you are my safe space
you love me when I forget to love myself
you hold me and
see me and
know me
we fit so well together
and everyday I am grateful