I Am Crying...
Actually a lot lately
I am literally crying right this second while typing…and the first thing that comes to my mind is: the outside world thinks I am always smiling but nobody knows this part of me.
So I have decided to sit and write and take it all out (this always helps and I recommend you do the same).
I have been told so many times by my subscribers that they love to get to know me better.
Well, there you go - anti-sexy mode ON.
And, effectively they do, the ones who message me have a sense of who I am whereas the people who randomly follow on social media, just see smiley pictures and teasing clips.
I am human, I am a woman and I am a Mum. In that order.
And… Boom! Surprise, I am so fucking vulnerable!
Dinner Time
So here’s the story.
I cooked some ribs with hoisin sauce the night before last for dinner. As I usually do (please don’t ask me why as I don’t have an answer) I, literally, ate a couple and let them all for my kids.
I eat very little for dinner normally and then grab whatever else, cheese for example, and I am done. I prefer that they eat the best and as much as they want.
My son eats a LOT and he rarely leaves anything in the plate but my daughter…(women, argh! - someone says) she’s special. 😑
She didn’t have dinner because she stayed late after school with friends and they had a bite somewhere so when she came home she said: “Oh sorry, I’ll eat it tomorrow.”
Fine. That’s happened before.
And that’s why I KNOW she does not like food from the day before but…I still thought: “Well, if she does not want it tomorrow, I’ll have it”.
Next day arrives. She comes home and looks at the re-heated dinner with “that look”, grabs her plate and walks upstairs to her bedroom.
The day finishes there.
Ribs In The Bin
Today, I was happily sorting out the kitchen and finding bloody ants in the honey again so had to clean with vinegar and I was singing “La vie en Rose”…
Until I open the bin and see the RIBS in there, untouched.
You know what a tsunami does, right?
You’re there reading Shakespeare comfortably in your beach chair and before you know it, your knees are bleeding and you’re holding on to a floating tree confused as an octopus in a garage… we all know how that feels 😆
Well, I felt my body weakening and my head heating up like a chimney, my stomach shrinking and my eye balls wanting to jump into that bin… I felt awful.
I won’t do therapy on myself right this second but, as with all of us, this situation triggers past traumas and present shit and literally changes your state of being in a millisecond.
I felt extremely disappointed, frustrated and incredibly undervalued.
“Welcome to what being a Mum is, Rose.”
The little voice.
Tears down my cheeks
I could not stop crying. I felt betrayed. I would have eaten that food happily (I very much dislike throwing away food) if she would have said: “I don’t want it.”
Suddenly, I felt stupid and people pleaser (well, yeah, they are my own kids but still).
Always leaving myself for last, always taking breadcrumbs from everywhere and not standing up for myself and my value. Always giving more than receiving.
I am tired of feeling like that (obviously is not the first time).
Being human is not easy and being a Mum is like trying to get a degree with a never-ending assessment. There is no graduation. Ever.
That thing they say about ‘small kids, small problems’, ‘big kids, big problems’?
That’s BS.
It should say: ‘Big or small… Kids = problems’.
Anyway…see? I am not crying anymore. Writing is an amazing self-therapy.
Sorry to ruin your day with my issues (see? doing it again, apologising for being vulnerable and being me).
Till next (hopefully happy) read.
Love ❤️