Happy FMF time!!
Wasn’t too chatty tonight because I was in the middle of another chat, but hopefully will be back next week.
Anywho, this week’s word:
Funny story: I’ve had a blog post drafted called “stuck in the middle” for MONTHS… but I can’t remember what exactly I was going to write about. Oops! Haha.
I don’t tend to write a lot about my family on the blog, but this word brought them to my mind first and foremost.
Because I always, always feel stuck in the middle of my warring family.
My parents divorced when I was little. I don’t remember what life was like before; part of me is glad for this, but part of me wishes I remembered something because I constantly hear two very different stories about their life together, and their lives apart.
It’s unnerving, really. I never know who’s telling me the truth.
I was stuck as a kid going back and forth between houses: dad’s, mom’s, and grandparents, where I took up residence. I never knew which one was really home.
I was stuck in a family where I didn’t know how to fit in on either side. I was a brainy child who loved books and daydreaming and making up stories with her barbies instead of dressing them up. I was introverted, shy, and sensitive, slightly fearful and already showing early signs of depression starting in early elementary school (oh how I wish I’d had the resources as a kid I do now!).On my dad’s side it was loud, sports fanatics who enjoyed the outdoors that I was vastly allergic to (pollen, man). On my mom’s side, it was loud, constantly moving, changing, doing new things, taking risks, zero stability and constant uncertainty–which scared me to no end (still does).
I was stuck feeling like I didn’t belong.
I was stuck with a stepmom who disliked kids, enough to not let me live with them once they married. I didn’t know this tidbit until I was an adult, and for that, I’m glad– even as an adult it has scarred me knowing how unwanted I was. I’m fortunate now that I have a stepmom figure who loves me like her own kid, but those feelings of unwantedness linger even still.
I was (shoot I still AM somedays) stuck in a game of he said she said, where my parents and their families would fight and argue about things they did or said, usually using me, the kid, as the messenger between the two. One parent said this happened, the other said that. One says this one’s lying, the other one says this. My mom talks about how she still loves my dad and thought they’d always be together; my dad tells me the only thing he loves about her is me, the rest he hates.
I always longed for them to be civil– just civil. The tension of my college graduation with my dad, grandmother, and mom in the same place left me with a constant lump in my throat the whole day. They’ve been divorced nearly 2 decades now, and i’m still scared to have them in the same room.And now, I'm stuck wondering just how much their choices and my trauma from my upbringing have affected my personal choices and decisions. Click To Tweet
Because I’m scared to date, to get married or have a family. I’m scared to trust people. I’m scared to open up to someone for fear of someone running away. I’m scared I’m going to love someone so much and they won’t love me back. All feelings about love and romance and having a family have been suppressed by fear- this fear that I’ll end up like my family, or that I won’t know how to love a family/husband well, or that I can’t be loved since my family never knew how to love me well.
As an adult, I’m just now realizing how much of that is because of how much my childhood has influenced who I am and the trauma I’ve felt.
I’m scared being stuck in my family has made it impossible for me to find love myself.In this season where I'm finally learning just how much I want love, I'm scared to let people love me. And I don't know how to fix it. Click To Tweet