Posts from the ‘motherhood’ category

IMG_8419.JPG

I was married to a bully for 17 years.

I think about that life and now it’s hard to imagine. I kept a spotless house for fear of angering him. I changed the way I dressed, dropped friends, and gave up hobbies to make him feel more secure. I admit: I pretty much changed everything about myself because of him. Leaving him opened my eyes to true love, integrity and loyalty in a partner.

So here’s the thing about bullies: once they know their control games and manipulation tactics don’t work anymore, their insecurities grow and so does their anger.

The man I was once married to was told about this blog by one of my children’s coaches.

He’s read each and every post on my blog. Multiple times.

Imagine my surprise when I was served papers to appear in court and attached to the documents were printouts of my blog entries.

Absent from the documents were the blog posts where I speak of my love for Brandon, his love for me, my healing, my moments of clarity as I’ve grown through the power of writing and love received. All of it.

The only things included were posts about him.

Documents state I’m harassing him. He states I’m vindictive and can’t move on.

Blogging about the journey to my wholehearted, vulnerable, authentic self has helped me and many others heal. And I’m proud of the roads I’ve taken. I’m also proud of my writing.

I know that many of you were once married to a similar type of individual. I know that many of you long for a healthy co-parenting relationship and dance the dance, still, just as I do.

I’m proud of myself for leaving a bully. I’m thankful for all of the connections I’ve made through this and other blogs. And most importantly, I’m not afraid to write.

My children see healing and strength in me. My husband sees my heart and my integrity. And everyone sees the truth.

9 Comments

The last few weeks have brought so much reward to me and hopefully to my kids as well. Now that I’m working from home, we’ve spent time together. We’ve talked. We’ve been busy with sports and other things, but we’ve also had some downtime, which has been great for all of us. Last night, my oldest son had a softball game and he asked me if I would go watch him. Last year, he played on a team with Brandon and I and we all had a great time. Brandon and I are much too busy this year to play, but his dad asked him to play on a team he’s played on for a couple years and my son wanted our whole family to go and watch.

“Sure,” I told him. There was only a small part of me that didn’t want to go, and that’s because my ex has been pretty difficult with me (again) lately. But I’m not one to let my ex separate me from what my kids want, so of course we went. Our family sat out on the grass, and I was respectful to give my ex and his wife their space. My son wanted us to sit closer, but I was fine out on the grass having a picnic with Brandon and the kids.

My son had a great game, and it was so great to see him out playing ball again. And ya know, I didn’t feel uncomfortable at all watching my ex husband play in the same game my son was playing in. Some people would think I’m crazy to go and sit there watching my ex play–with all of the drama that man has brought to my life–but I was really there only to support my son, so it wasn’t strange at all. If anything, I watched with an appreciation that he and my son could play ball together. Now, I’m sure it could have been strange for my ex and his wife to have me on “their turf” but again, I wasn’t there for them.

The sun was setting just as the game was ending, and Brandon and I piled all the kids into the car to drive home. We all sang Flo Rida songs at the top of our lungs while we were all squished into the car, and it really was a memorable night.

The emotions started rolling in for me once we got home–after I replayed the evening in my mind. My heart began to break as I thought about how my son has to live his life with a gap as wide as the Grand Canyon right down the middle. Dad on one side. Mom on the other. Why does it have to be like that? I really don’t understand why it needs to be that way. Brandon and his ex’s are friendly with each other when they’re at the kids things. Why can’t my kids have the same?

I have longed for a “normal” co-parenting situation for so long. One where my son’s family goes to his games and support him and parents can be friendly and the animosity is void. But I know that will never happen for my kids. I’ve tried to be friendly with my ex. I’ve tried to speak to him as a respectful adult. He insists on acting childish and still won’t make eye contact–4 years later he still refuses to make eye contact with me. It’s almost as if he’s on a pedastal and he can’t bring himself to “stoop so low” to even look at me, the mother of his 4 children.

A few weeks ago, my daughter played ball on a Friday night during our “drop off time.” I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to pick up our older daughter from soccer that night or if he was going to so I walked over to her father to ask if he would be picking her up. He and his wife sat there staring off into the distance and wouldn’t acknowledge me standing next to their seats. He continued to stare off into the distance and replied, “it’s my parent time–I’ll handle it.” My response was calm and clear, “I just need you to communicate that with me so I know what’s going on.” His eyes rolled and he formed his hand into a puppet mouth pointed at my face and opened and closed his fingers and thumb to mimic my talking, and he didn’t respond again to me. This man is so mature.

I don’t want “normal” co-parenting as much for myself (but Jesus, that would be nice) as much as I want it for my kids. Imagine the love my son could have felt last night if BOTH of his parents were talking and communicating and cheering for him at his game. Imagine how safe he would feel if his mother could walk up to him and his team after the game and speak to his father about how well he played. Imagine if we acted as if we were two old friends who shared a child and the anger and insecurity was gone. Imagine if the two of us could stand with our son and tell him how amazing we thought he was–together–as his parents. But then I remember that my ex is a narcissist, and he cannot put the needs of his 4 kids above himself. And his insecurities, anger, and immaturity will always take center stage.

My ex’s lack of compassion and respect towards me doesn’t really affect me, but it DOES affect his children. They feel the discomfort. They have been told that during “his time” they sit with him and he has drawn the line in the sand. He has painted parameters and boundaries around their relationships with each parent and they are expected to stay within each boundary, seperately. My heart breaks for the way he has changed their lives. They are four innocent people who are trying to love and repair, and they won’t ever be able to fully heal until their father does. And I’m not sure that will ever happen.

7 Comments

A dark cloud has rolled in tonight–it’s wrapped around me like a cloak I can’t break free from. I’m not sure why the sadness has hit me like it has, but I’m trying to allow myself to feel it. Trying to reach out, slowly touch it and examine what exactly it is and how I can move through it.

Some of what I’m feeling are emotions I’ve stuffed deep down inside me for the past 4 months. Almost like the way you smash the wrappers and cans into the kitchen garbage so you can crowd more junk and garbage into the container–cramming it all down so you don’t have to take a trip to the can outside, alone, in the dark.

The emotions I’ve avoided are unhappiness–both with my family life and my job. I was miserable for quite some time, but I trudged through the discomfort and went to work everyday and left my family and felt as though I was failing in all areas. I swaddled up the pain in chocolate, caffeine, sleep, and shutting people out–all typical coping tools that are unhealthy and irresponsible. I haven’t been working out. I haven’t been going out. I haven’t been laughing or exploring or challenging myself. At all. I’ve buried myself in being busy–ignoring myself and my pain.

It’s landed me in a familiar place. A place I know very well from my first marriage. I’ve given up things that make me happy: working out, going out with friends and being creative. I saw a photo of myself my son took last weekend and I didn’t like what I saw. I know that woman–that’s the woman who went on auto-pilot for years in her first marriage–numbing the pain and unhappiness.

Reaching out to my husband was my first step at finding happiness again. Quitting my job was the second. Now, as I write through my sadness, anger, and frustration tonight, I know the third step is to begin to love myself again. Eating healthy again. Working out again. Putting myself first on the list again and believing in the woman I am. I want to cry because I’ve allowed myself to get lost and veer so far from the path I found after my divorce. It makes me angry at myself and wonder how I lost my way. In one year, I’m disoriented in the forest again.

A friend of mine helped me to see that my job was a large reason for my unhappiness. My work situation had put me, once again, in a place where a man in my life wasn’t listening or validating me or my needs. I was “checking out” as a coping tool. At first I thought the idea was a bit “out there,” but it’s true. I was in a “relationship” (a work relationship) with a man who didn’t listen. He didn’t listen to my ideas. He wanted to always control the decisions and wanted to see everything I did (sound familiar?). Once I saw the unbalance in my life and the effects on my emotional health, I made my needs very clear–telling him I don’t work well at the last minute (working til 2:00 am multiple times to launch websites etc), and explaining that I had many initiatives on my plate and his lack of follow through on the items I needed from him were causing me frustration–the needs were ignored and disregarded and he continued to work the way he was used to.

I’m sad I followed the pattern I’d learned in my first marriage–allowing myself to be unseen and unheard. I’m even more sad that the only way I new to cope was to detach from myself. I still have much to learn. And I still have more healing ahead.

2 Comments

When it comes to the debate of working moms vs at-home-moms, I’ve always been an advocate of “Do what you feel comfortable with.” I’m not here to judge another woman for going to work every day, just like I wouldn’t judge a woman who chooses to stay home with her children. Each woman should know herself and know where she will be the most happy. I’ve danced the line of working mom/at-home-mom many, many times. I’ve worked at home, nights, weekends, part-time and full-time. I’ve done it all.

After 17 years of juggling, maneuvering and balancing, I know what works for me. I enjoy working. I enjoy creating something and sending it out into the world and making a difference in people’s lives. But I also know that my influence on my children is one of the most important gifts they’ll receive.

Once I got divorced, I went directly into survival mode: work hard, provide for my kids, get them into counseling, try not to change life too much. I quickly found full-time work and bought us our little home. There was hardly any time for adjustment, because when you’re in the middle of divorce, you just do what you have to so you get by. All of you single parents out there know exactly what I’m talking about.

The most difficult part about that phase in our lives is that I felt like my kids lost their dad AND their mom all at the same time. Their world as they new it was turned on it’s head, which wasn’t fair! Their dad moved out, and their mom was hardly home because she worked from 8:30-5:30, and after work she was the chauffeur. We burned that candle at both ends for quite some time.

I’ve now been married to Brandon for nearly a year. We’ve been playing hot-potato with schedules, carpooling kids, trying to keep all the trains running, keep the house clean, each working a full-time job, and nurturing a new marriage all at the same time. Life ain’t glamorous most days ’round these parts, but that’s not what life is about. There’s been many, many discussions about keeping our relationship fresh, parenting our kids, joining our lives together and trying to understand one another. And when we hit a bump in our road, we’ve learned to talk through it and figure it out.

The ground beneath us is starting to feel fairly solid now, and we’re on the back side of that all-too-familiar “difficult first year” of marriage. As I’ve said before, blending two families is a challenge, but it’s also a blessing. Brandon’s recently been promoted at work, which takes him away from home more than I’d like, but I’m so proud of him and his accomplishments. We’re settling in and seeing how the inner-workings of this family work, and it now makes sense for me to be home more to take care of our kids, our home and nurture all that goes on here while he’s at work. In a way, I’m thrilled. But in another, I’m terrified! The day I quit, I had to make myself not think and just feel with my heart. My heart is telling me the right thing to do and it’s holding the door closed so my mind doesn’t run in and ruin the whole thing!

To walk away from a full-time job by my own choice is a crazy thing. But to have the majority of my job description be about nurturing my children and supporting my husband and walk towards a personal goal to start my own business/adventure (or whatever it is I’m going to do) is exciting. I’ve never had someone who believed in me and my talents the way Brandon does. He knows it’s important to have home handled, and his goal when he took this job was for me to be home more to hold down our fort. I honestly believe that life is much easier when one parent is home a majority of the time keeping the peace and balance–especially when you have a large number of children. Some may disagree, but this is our gig, and we chose this route.

I’m not going to lie…I’ve been sick with worry in making this decision. It’s a moment of vulnerability for me–to depend on someone financially again. My ex had no problem controlling and stashing money, so I breathe deeply with this decision and try not to hyperventilate myself into a frenzy. To give up the “guaranteed” and bet on myself is a huge risk. In a way I feel selfish. Is that stupid? I feel lame because I’m not contributing as much to our income as I could. I doubt my talents. I fear the stress will be too much on Brandon.

But money does not drive me. Relationships do. At the end of my life, I won’t be asking someone to bring my Porche to the window so I can marvel at how clean it is. I’ll want my family near me. When my children are parents themselves, they will know that family is worth sacrificing for.

My oldest son came home the other day and told me that his father got mad at my daughter for resting her arm against his car’s window. He had yelled at her, “Get your arm off the window!” quite loudly. My son looked at me while telling me that story and said, “Sometimes I want to ask him, ‘Dad, why’d you even have kids?'”

Life with children is full of sacrifices, fingerprints, heartache and challenges. Some don’t have the choice whether or not they’ll stay home, and they go to work every day to give everything they can to their kids. I applaud you, because I know how hard that is. We do the best we can with what we have.

I’m looking forward to this new adventure, but even more, I’m looking forward to more quality time with my husband and kids.

1 Comment

Fly

Years.

Decades.

If I were to add up the time I spent playing “dress up”–living and working in a body that didn’t seem like my own–the number would shock you. On the outside, I seemed to know what I wanted, I took care of my children and family and home, and I went to work and helped support the dreams and goals my husband and I had as a couple. Were they my dreams? I look back, and sure, a few of them were. But for the most part, my marriage consisted of me saying yes a lot to his goals and dreams. He always wanted me to work–even when I didn’t have to. He wanted the extra income. He wanted the big rock exterior home, the boat, the big truck, and on and on.

Me? What did I want? I wanted to be an amazing mother to my kids and support my husband. I wanted to create memories with our families–extended included–and teach our children what love truly was. Other than that, I didn’t even know how to dream up something I wanted. I spent so many years kind of “giving in” that I forgot to ask myself what would make me happy.

The events that led up to my divorce sent a shock through my system like an electromagnetic wave. My gift to myself, prior to realizing that our marriage was crumbling beneath my feet, was taking a job working at a creative magazine. I began seeing my talents, believing in myself again, and once I found out my ex was carrying on with a woman in New York rather than engaging at home and with me, I had the confidence to put my foot down rather than melt away into nothingness. Then, one year later when I asked my ex husband to leave our home because he was now carrying on with a neighbor, it was like someone breathed the air into my lungs and I opened my eyes again. Yes, it was painful, but I started to become me again.

Nearly three years later, when I began dating Brandon, I had settled in to who I am–the single Lori. Sarcastic, free, colorful, creative. And now, almost two years after falling in love, I see the woman I am and the woman I want to be. Brandon sees it, too. He supports my dreams and my goals and for the very first time in my life, I feel like I have the love I need to push myself to dig deeper and finally become the wife and mother I always wanted to be.

And now, the bigger question: Where do I go from here? How the freak should I know?!

I do know I want to be home more to care for my children and my husband and our home. I want to feel “settled in” and for our kids to have a “real home” again. I want to write. Desperately. I want to create. Something! I want to inspire and empower and engage.

Today is the beginning of an authentic life I’ve longed for that I know is out there.

I’m taking risks I wouldn’t dare try on my own. I have this feeling of terror channeling through me today, because it’s go time. But I also feel a rush of excitement to see what the next chapter will bring. And, after discussing this with my sweet husband, I finally have the from-the-heart support that I’ve longed for, really, for my entire life.

It’s time to step into the darkness of the unknown. I will either fall onto solid ground, or better yet, I just may learn to fly.

2 Comments
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 437 other followers

%d bloggers like this: