Hey Homecoming Queen…

Here’s the thing. Everybody has struggles and pain. I was never supposed to show mine. We were a “perfect” family. That Hallmark Christmas movie you watch, when the main characters go home to their family, and it’s this amazing family. Growing up, I needed everyone to see that in my family, as much as my family asked from me that I showed it to the world. We were fucking royalty, where I grew up. My family was the rich family. I always had all the newest things. Gaming systems, clothes, cell phones. My mother drove the carpool to and from cheer practice. My friends were jealous. My life was perfect. Only, it wasn’t! That’s what kills me. I struggle with this. Part of me feels so guilty for bitching, because I understand I had so much. I still do! I also so want to be able to talk about the story nobody else knew. I need to be able to write here, honestly. I don’t want to seem like a spoiled brat. I don’t mean to be like that. You don’t know what goes on behind the closed doors of anyone’s home. People don’t realize that the “image” presented that can seem so damn great, maybe it isn’t. Everyone has secrets. Everyone has pain they’re not supposed to talk about, I think?

I’m never “sugar coating” my life here, with Adam. I’m raw and honest. I write about my screw ups. I write about successes. I write about my struggles and my worries. I can’t always go “deep”, when I write. I am always true to myself, though. There are days, when I feel tremendous guilt for whining about my stupid problems. There are days, when I just want to take the time to acknowledge how blessed that I know I am. There are days, when I need to spill the truth about the things I hide from the rest of the world. I know that I have a hard time getting much into my own childhood. I still have so much inner turmoil when I discuss those things. I never showed the shit to anyone. I never wanted to share the truth, that my family wasn’t a god damn Hallmark movie, either. Is there such a thing? Is there, though??

I worry, every single day, about my own children growing up and having to recover from their childhood. I want to give them everything. I want them to have nice things, but more than that, I don’t want them to ever have to “pretend” that their family isn’t who we are. I know damn well, I ain’t perfect. I’m not a perfect wife, or mama. I can say, with 100% truth I try, though.

I can’t imagine where I would be now, without “my people”. I didn’t have that perfect childhood that most people assumed, but I do have people who I know I matter to. My marriage isn’t perfect, but it’s still amazing. I’m not a perfect mama or friend or sister or daughter, but I’m enough. I know this. I know it, because my mom taught me. She taught me what I don’t want to do. There were moments, where my mother did some “motherly” things. I remember, she took me to get a new outfit for my first “date”, when I was 14 years old. She gave me a dish scrub brush, just weeks before she went all in on her “meds”. I still have that scrub brush. It’s sitting under my sink. I can’t use it. For me, it’s like a reminder that maybe my mom did love me, in her own way?

As a kid, growing up, if I was sad, my friends would get angry with me. Ohhh your life is just so terrible. If my mom saw me cry, she would be either angry, because what did I have to cry about? Or, she would get the satisfaction of knowing she got to me, when she was trying to hurt me. I learned that tears were unacceptable. I learned that, to show people my pain is weak, pathetic, self loathing, and I’m not allowed to feel that way because, look at what other people deal with! You don’t grow up knowing what’s “normal”. You don’t understand that, not everyone goes home to the family you do. I did have a lot. I had everything I ever needed and most of the things I ever wanted. The first time my mother really hugged me, was after I was raped. I remember it so well. She gave me a big hug. There were several people in the room. I just went with it, like that was our normal! Stupid me, honestly believed that maybe she had “turned a new page”? Maybe she would be like that, now? Even if it was just when people were watching, she would be that Hallmark movie mom. I was ok with that! At least there was some affection. At least she loved me enough to put her arms around me, occasionally? I make sure to hug my children, consistently. Every morning, before they leave for school, I hug them. I tell them the same thing, everyday. I say Have a great day! See you after school. I love you! I say it to each one of them, separately, too. Every night, before bed, I hug my children. I say the same things, every night. Goodnight! See you in the morning. I love you! My kids walk into the room and give me random hugs, constantly. I would never want them to feel like I don’t want their hugs. If my mother ever told me I love you, I’ve forgotten. Because, I sure don’t have a single memory of her telling me that, and I’m pretty certain I’d remember it.

I don’t want to get “into it” anymore than I have. I just needed to say some of this stuff. I needed to say, everybody has hurt. I’m tired of trying to compare trauma, and feeling guilty for complaining. As if anyone’s pain shouldn’t matter, because look how much worse this person had it. I’m tired of feeling selfish for needing to process my own shit.

I realize, I might be a little nuts. I’m writing this, in my kitchen, while I’m fixing supper. It’s Tuesday evening, so I won’t be posting this until tomorrow morning. Adam walked in the door. I had music playing, like always. A goofy song came on, and I started dancing in the kitchen and laughing. I sat here, writing about things that hurt real bad, but I’m glad to dance in the kitchen, with my husband, as soon as he comes in. He had no idea what was going on inside my head, just moments earlier. I prefer it that way. I very rarely show the “real world” what’s happening inside my head and heart. I don’t want to put this on Adam, my children, or Jackie. Jackie has childhood trauma that I can’t begin to imagine. She’s going to be coming up for supper soon. It’s almost time for her to be off work. I’m going to laugh and dance and enjoy another beautiful evening with my people.