I've been trying to write a new post for a couple of weeks now but was too busy living reality.
I'm done now so I'll share where my head is at.
I was taught before I scampered off to Kindergarten about respect. Respect for others. Respect for other's space. Even respect for myself.
I think I scored an A in respect.
But when my mom died, I kept living the respect for others and their space but kinda chucked mine out the window thanks to my father.
Couldn't look to my dad for respect because it was not respectful after almost 14 years of my life to spring his 3 kids by another marriage on me at my mother's wake.
It was not respectful to me to shove this prior family down my throat to the point that not even 6 months after my mother was buried, he remarried this woman and made me move from the only place I had evern known(Belleville) so that they could be closer to their other kids who were married with kids of their own. This marriage didn't last 2 years and they divorced once again and instead of moving me back to Belleville, he moved me to Herrin for my senior year in high school.
So I figured out that if my dad, who was my world, didn't respect me and my feelings, then I didn't deserve any respect.
As the years went on, he ran my life. He told me that my first husband and I needed to go and sign papers on a trailer he had found for our first home. We never saw it before it was delivered. If Dad said it, then that settled it and no questions were asked.
He told me a year later that we needed to go to the bank and sign the papers for a house we needed to move to because it was my cousin's and they were in a bind and it had a fenced in back yard for my collie and Kelli.
Again, like a Stepford child, we did.
Then 2 years later, he told us he had found an old house with acreage at the edge of town and we needed to sign papers on it because it was a good investment.
Out came my pen again. No questions asked.
By now my respect for me and my family(husband and child) was a lost art for me. We basically lived in an unfinished shack that had insulation for my bathroom walls with studs exposed and subflooring in the bathroom. He did a few things, like built a stairway upstairs to supposedly turn it into 2 extra bedrooms. We had 1 and a half bedrooms downstairs with 3 kids. Kelli escaped upstairs to the room even though it wasn't finished.
Then my dad had a heart attack and decided he'd sell his house, buy a trailer and move it out on our acreage . This was not up for discussion because I found out when I came home from work and saw a trailer sitting down the driveway from my house.
The next years from 1986 to 1993 were a nonending treadmill of taking the kids to daycare/school, going to work at SIU, picking up the kids and pull into my driveway to find my dad sitting on the front porch saying, "When's supper?" I went in and literally threw a meal together while he took Kelli and Michael to his trailer to play. Kiereney wasn't welcomed because I didn't need a third child so she didn't exist in his world. He said the same thing about Michael until he was born and when he was a boy, he took him over and basically turned him into his son David that drowned in a bucket of bleach water when he was 2 because his then wife was too busy reading movie mags to keep an eye on him. Michael's toys had to stay at PawPaw's house because they would be safe from Kiereney. I spent time taking Kiereney with me everywhere to try and make up for the shunning she was getting from my dad. The age difference between Kelli and Michael was about 8 years and 18 months and 18 days between Michael and Kiereney.
In 1993 I graduated with my Bachelor's and the next day told my functioning alcoholic husband I wanted a divorce because he was not being a father and if I was going to raise them alone, I wanted to be alone. I moved to NY with Roger who I had met online 7 months earlier and found out that not only could I be loved for myself but I deserved respect and got it!
Fast forward to last week.
Both daughters are living with us and both are slobs. I make rules and they get ignored. Last week I told them that no food was to go upstairs. Roger alerted me that one of them took their supper up there and I went up and was told that the baseball game was on as if that was supposed to make it OK to ignore my rule. THEN told her sister that if she had known it was me coming upstairs, she would have just hidden her plate under the bed until I left.
My rule was blatantly ignored, disrespected and basically I lost it.
And the whole respect thing came tumbling out after all these years.
I've been dealing with that and of course, am not the most popular mom around here but I don't care. There are things in the works for both of them to be moving on so that is the only reason they are here now but they live under my house rules or hit the door. Period.
I've been putting up my boundaries and not letting anyone past them. I call it as it is and noone is immune, not even my husband who crossed one today and got lamblasted. I won't live a double life. And RESPECT will be shown to me and the house rules or else. I am not afraid to strike out alone again because I have learned to sail my ship.
It took me 43 years to find and embrace that I deserved respect, my thoughts and my rules of my house deserved respect and it would be enfored come hell or high water.
I have, to that end, cut a few friends off my FB because they were users and this girl is not going to be used anymore.
So I've been busy reinventing my respect and enforcing it and it feels good. I'm proud of the image that stares back at me in the mirror. God and I are on the same page and Zen has helped alot. I find comfort in my Catholic faith and daily Bible readings and feel that I am back in control.
So that's what I've been up to and why I have not blogged.
But I thought of each and every one of my followers in my absence.
Today finds me nursing a back injury from doing the Chinese splits on a wet WalMart floor while holding onto a cart, going to the chiropractor 3 times a week, making Chrisoms for a 2nd christmas tree this year and starting a crochet baby blanket for a little boy who finally uncrossed his legs during his sonogram. His parents have tried for a long time to have a child, got pregnant with twins and one died a few weeks ago. This little guy is healthy and very much anticipated by family and friends.
I also have been reading a lot of library books. And I'm respecting ME and listening to my self and getting out of the house more. I also am using Netflix to watch the entire series of Parenhood because KimD recommended the show and I.love.it. Hope to catch up or at least get a handle on it before the new season starts.
I didn't intend to turn this into a novel but I had to explain it all for it to make sense.
My new mantra is, "If not now, WHEN?" and it helps my accountability to myself.
Thank you for reading here and realize that it is NEVER TOO LATE to respect yourself and BELIEVE in yourself.
Have a phenomenal week!