Hi, my name is Sheri. Welcome to my Twilight rants.
I started a little habit about 5 years ago. When I’m feeling down, I like to binge watch the Twilight movies. Let me tell you, there is NOTHING like watching these train wrecks to make you feel better about yourself and your life choices.
Now, let me say. The books were actually really good. But Bella Swan is still a dumb bitch. Even in the books.
First, what teenager is ever going to say, “Sure, Mom! I know you fell in love with a younger man and don’t want to be a mom anymore! That’s TOTALLY cool! I’ll just go live in this town that I despise and let you relinquish all responsibility for spitting me out of your vag! But you’re still the best mom ever!” No. That’s not a thing.
Next up. First day of school. Every guy there wants her, in spite of her weird little scowl, but who does she want? The weird pale guy who looks at her IMMEDIATELY like he wants to kill her. Hello, Date Line? Yes, I have your next trailer park murder story lined up.
So, dude disappears for a few days…comes back…”Oh, baby. I’m sorry I was so mean. I like you. I hate you. I’ll save you. I’ll discard you. You mean everything. You mean nothing.” Codependent Party of One… “LET ME LOVE YOU!!!!!”
We find out he’s a stalker…want him more…find out he’s a vampire… “BUT, I LOVE HIM!!!!” Deal with numerous near death experiences in the company of him and his family. *dreamy eyed* “They’re the best people I’ve ever known…”
Then, he abandons her. Gone. Like he never existed. So what does this bitch do? SITS BY HERSELF FOR MONTHS SENDING EMAILS TO A FAKE EMAIL ADDRESS. She has lost her mind. She’s literally talking to herself at this point.
Cute werewolf best friend falls in love with her. “Oh no, I couldn’t be happy with you…you don’t want to eat me!!” (Actually, that part…I mean…ummm…)
So…let’s go jump off a cliff so we can hallucinate!!
Oh no!! My emotionally abusive, whiny ex boyfriend has a plan to kill himself? Let me fly to Italy and face MORE people who want to kill me!
And for the finale, we will now spend over a year of, “Make me a monster.” “No.” “How about now?” “No.” “What if I…” “No.” “Then I’ll make someone else.” “No.” “Oh yeah? Then I’ll just get knocked up so you HAVE to keep me forever!!!”
Seriously, Bella Swan belongs on Jerry Springer taking a paternity test and clawing out the eyes of a barbie for looking at her mans.
But…this never fails. It always picks me up as I watch, in abject horror, how much worse my life choices could be.
And if that does fail you? Just do a shot every time she does something dumb. You’ll be so drunk within the first 20 minutes you won’t feel anything.
This is Bella. Aka She who puts the “mom” in my dot com.
After many years of my father telling me that I was the more responsible of the two of us…and the numerous conversations I had with him over the years about his behavior…I’ve always known that parenting is a two way street.
From the first moment I met my Bella, I knew that squirmy crying little thing was going to teach me just as much as I taught her.
That’s parenting.
We teach them how to survive this world.
Often, they teach us how to love our world.
One of those instances came about during our road trip yesterday.
So, that squirmy crying little thing has grown into the 15 year old woman child that is the basis of my whole world.
Let me make this clear so no one ever thinks I’m about to become that fake Facebook mom who’s kid is perfect…
Y’all…this kid may be the death of me. She’s argumentative. She’s moody. She’s sometimes mean. She’s a slob. I could go on, but suffice it to say…
She’s a teenager.
But there’s so much more that she is, too. She’s hilarious. She’s brutally honest when she thinks people need to hear the truth. She loves her people with a fierceness that can’t be denied. I watched this kid, at 12 years old, (with a kind strength most adults can’t achieve) explain to her best friend why racist comments won’t be tolerated.
She knows who she is. She knows what she believes. She is not afraid to tell you. She is 100% her, 100% of the time.
As someone told me when she was around 11, “I know you worry about her and she drives you crazy, but…She is going to run the world. And she will never do something she doesn’t believe in.”
So, that kid…reared the head of her beautiful belief in herself yesterday.
She started talking about her “fan club”.
Apparently my Bella has “haters”. She also has some of the best friends anyone could ever want and she’s FLOURISHING socially this year. But…also haters.
Why do they hate her? She doesn’t know.
Did she do anything to them? She’s never said a word to them and doesn’t even know them.
Is she sure they really hate her then? Oh, yes…they will tell anyone who listens.
Does this hurt her? Nope.
“Mom, it’s high school. This is just how high school is. Why should I care if people, who don’t really know me, don’t like me? I just think it’s funny they spend that much time worried about me.”
Not gonna lie…with the utter sincerity and strength in self that she said that with…there’s never been anyone I more wanted to be like when I grow up.
So, being me, I laughed.
“Why are you laughing???”
“Because I’ve been going through this thing where I’m not liked…and it’s very clear I’m not liked…and I’ve been saying to my friends, literally, “What have I done to make them hate me so much???” as I cried like a little girl. Like you, the ones who don’t really like me….don’t really know me. But, apparently, you handle it better than I do.”
“So…basically you’re still in high school, too?”
“Yes. Yes I am.”
You guys. I don’t know where she gets this strength from. I don’t know how she’s become this person who is wiser than most adults.
I’d like to think I get some credit for who she’s growing up to be.
But I think she gets more credit for who I’m growing up to be.
Hi, my name is Sheri and I’m a recovering co-dependent. I’d love to say I’m recovered, but it’s a daily battle. Just as the addicts in my life had their drugs/alcohol, control and “helping” was mine. I was so afraid of failing them that I couldn’t not help…always to my own detriment.
But tonight…I said no.
I’ve had a lot of addicts in my life. Mostly alcohol…some drugs. My little brother is the one that most broke my heart, though. His world blew up at 5 years old and I always felt like it was my responsibility to fix it for him…to take care of him…to make sure he was OK. His drug problem started around 14…and has progressively gotten worse over the years. About once a year he tells me he’s clean and that he’s doing right…I trust him…he lies and manages to borderline destroy my life. Be it monetarily…possessions…lies…stress… turmoil…he flips my damn world upside down every time.
Then…back to AL Anon I go…I think I’m better…he shows up and proves me wrong.
That was the cycle. Until a few years ago when it wasn’t just me that he hurt…he hurt my daughter. Not physically, but in one of his drug binges…he allowed his friends to steal the jewelry I was saving for her that her dad gave me. All that she had left of our marriage. Gone. Every piece of it.
Since then, I swore I wouldn’t let him back in. Hurting me is one thing…especially the little brother who was always the child I was trying to save. But, now…he’s 37…and she’s the one who needs to be protected.
But that resolve wasn’t put to the test until tonight. Suddenly I received a message on Instagram from his account. Apparently he’s in jail. Again.
And they wanted me to help him. I stared at that damn message and felt myself crumble. I felt my boundaries that I’ve worked so hard at start to falter.
But I said no.
She asked again.
I stuck to my no.
And you know what? The world didn’t end. I’m struggling with some guilt tonight, but I’m also standing firm in AL Anons 3 Cs.
I did not Cause it.
I can not Cure it.
I can not Control it.
And…while I’m struggling…I’m also a little proud. Recovery from being an addict’s codependent is still a process. But I made a really big stride in that process tonight.
I am all heart. I always have been. It is my greatest strength…and my greatest weakness.
If I give you my heart, you’ll always have a piece of it. If I ever loved you, I still do in one way or another…even if I have to do so from afar. If you ever broke my heart, that lingers as well.
I’ve talked before about how I do nothing in half measures. That includes…maybe even especially…my heart.
So, I find it rather ironically hilarious that it’s my heart that doesn’t want to work right anymore.
Literally or figuratively.
I can’t find that whole hearted person I was a year ago. I can’t find that woman who truly had started to believe that she could be loved by those around her. I can’t find the hopeful heart that believed everything was going to be ok.
And…dude…I can’t even find the heart that physically works right for the things I love to do.
So…I’m finding my heart.
In the middle of a maze…surrounded by detours of hurt and confusion…mis-led by doctors who are kind of dumb (seriously…one told me it’s ok to run alone because I’ll probably pass out some but he’s not worried I’ll STAY unconscious…. 🤦♀️🤦♀️🤦♀️)…a little cracked…a little worn…beating irregularly…
My heart is still in there. My whole heart. The heart of a woman who will never give up and will always find beauty in the world…it’s still there…I’m still her.
Physically, I’ll rely on the Mayo Clinic doctors. I will trust that they can help me be the woman I was even six months ago. I will believe that they will fix this and let me be the woman that I love…the one that I believe others can love.
For my emotional heart…I take baby steps. I take small steps away from things that are hurting me. I take steps towards the things that make me happy. I focus on being able to recognize the difference.
I will find my heart. In the middle of that maze…in the mess that it is currently surrounded by…I will find my heart AND the strength to hold it no matter the storm.
Not gonna lie…that image was a labor of love…or obsession…turns out there’s not an online generator to spell words out using bacon strips. Someone should get on that.
Also, I am now really hungry.
But it also wound up being the perfect segue into what I wanted to write about today.
You know that saying, “Going in whole hog”? Yeah…pretty sure there’s a picture of me next to that saying in some online dictionary. I do everything to extremes…some might say obsessively.
I’ve always felt like it was my responsibility to always do better…be better…make the world better. <—– That part…I’ve had three firm beliefs in my life. 1. If you know of a way to make the world better and you don’t…then you’re part of the problem. 2. Since I’ve seen so much of the bad in the world, it’s my responsibility to put that much good back into it. 3. There is nothing right about putting less than your all into anything you try to do.
So…everything I do…WHOLE HOG. I didn’t just go back to school, I had to take the school by storm. I don’t just do my job at work, I have to be the person consistently told things like, “You always put in 110%” and “You can’t expect others to be like you…most people won’t put in what you do.”. Join an organization? Why just join? Let me help make it better!
Everything I do is to the extreme.
I always thought that going Whole Hog was a good thing.
But…I don’t want to be the whole hog anymore. I’m realizing that I don’t have to be…and that people only expect so much out of me because I’ve shown them that they always can. I’ve shown them that I’ll do what others don’t want to. I’ve shown them that I’ll pick up the slack. I’ve shown them that I’ll make sure no one else has to do anything…for themselves or for me.
And you know what that leaves me? Exhausted and lonely.
I used to have a sign in my kitchen. “Expectations Lead To Future Resentments”. It’s true. If you expect more from people than they can give, then you will grow to resent them. But…I still always felt that expecting what I gave wasn’t expecting more than they could give.
But every person is different. Every person can/will give in different ways, in different times, in different capacities. Their effort is the best they can do and doesn’t have to match mine.
But, also…
I don’t have to save the world.
I can join an organization and just…join.
I can meet a new person and just…be a normal friend.
I can be good at my job without running the place.
I can take up a new hobby and not try to achieve new world records.
I know that I’m disappointing people left and right lately.
I’ve been told I’m not the person I was a year ago. I’ve been told I’m not fighting hard enough. I’ve been told I’m fighting too hard. I’ve been told I’m not staying positive. I’ve been told to stop being so positive and making jokes. I’ve been told that I’m pushing too hard physically. I’ve been told to try harder. I’ve been told I shouldn’t be so open. I’ve been told I need to be more vulnerable. I’ve been told I’m not asking for enough help. I’ve been told I need to take care of myself.
I’ve always joked about #YoureDoingItWrong , but I feel like I’m doing everything wrong.
But I’m trying.
I AM still me.
I’m still stubborn and refuse to give up. Even if you don’t see me fighting because you’re not there for that part. I’m also learning to be more accepting. Even if you don’t see the modifications and compromises I’m making.
I’m still positive and finding silver linings constantly. Even if you were there for a breakdown, that’s not the always. I’m also being realistic about the fact that some things have changed and not for the better. Even if you were only there for the jokes I’ve made about falling down.
I’m still open and vulnerable about the fight. Even if you saw me struggling to find the words. I’m also learning that sometimes it’s ok if I can’t find the words.
I still take care of me. I have to. Even if you saw me ask for help. Because I have learned, more than ever, to accept help. Even if I couldn’t ask you for it.
Some people look at this picture and see a tarot card. I look at it and see what was my life.
I spent many, many years doing the hermit thing. It was safe. If I didn’t let anyone too close…I wouldn’t find out again that I wasn’t enough…or that I was too much. If I didn’t lean on anyone…I wouldn’t fall. If I went ahead and made myself alone, I didn’t have to find out the hard way that I was alone anyway.
Don’t get me wrong. I had friends. They all lived in the computer. If I thought I was annoying them, I could close the screen and it was over. If they decided they didn’t like me they could just hit the little X by my name. No muss, no fuss.
But…for in person contact? Well, let’s just say I had my headphones in A LOT. (Even when they died and there was no music. Lol)
I won’t pretend it was the best life…but it was safe. I needed safe.
Then…I dated this dude for a little while. Through him I met a world of people who didn’t live inside the computer. They could…like…touch and hug me and shit. (And, boy oh boy, do they like to do that.) Suddenly…my world was very, very different. Much less safe, but also more full…but, again…less safe.
These were people that couldn’t just hit an X to make me go away. These were people that I could disappoint and annoy. These were people who could hurt me if I let them too close.
I love these people. Some of them are some of my best friends in the world. Through them I even met someone who’s pretty dang important to me. So, like I’ve always believed…everything happens for a reason. God put me on this particular path for reasons. And I can’t regret that, even when the close proximity of the real world hurts me. Which it does all of us. But…I got really, really good at avoiding that hurt…I got really, REALLY good at running before anyone else could.
I was a damn good Hermit.
So, now…sometimes my instinct is still to run. When someone hurts me…when people want me to lean more than I can…when I feel like I’m too much or not enough…
I want to run. I want to be The Hermit again.
I wish I could say it’s easy for me to fight that feeling because I love my people so much.
In reality? It’s harder to fight that feeling because I love my people so much.
If I run first…then they don’t get to abandon me, right?
But I AM fighting it. In baby steps. Sometimes I may hole up, but I don’t allow myself to disappear.
I don’t allow myself to fully reclaim my title of The Hermit.
I have always prided myself on having unshakeable faith. I believe that everything happens for a reason. I believe that God has a plan for all of us and that, if we only believe, it’s a beautiful plan. I believe that every tribulation is meant to put you where you’re supposed to be…sometimes for your path…sometimes to help someone else on theirs.
I never stopped believing that.
But I have found out that my faith is shakeable. I can have unshakeable belief that everything is with purpose…but simultaneously wonder if I’m being punished for something. I can KNOW, without a shadow of a doubt, that my God is there and He is listening…but simultaneously wonder if He’s laughing at the joke He put here for His amusement.
The faith that He loves ME is apparently a little bit shakeable.
The faith that the path He has in store for ME isn’t only one of helping others, while I falter, is apparently open to doubt.
This is what I’ve learned. As I’ve dealt with one cosmic kick after another…as I’ve fought to stay strong in both self and faith…I’ve faltered. I haven’t lost faith…but I lost hope.
I lost hope that I can make it through or that, if I did, anyone would still be by my side.
But the reason I lost hope…the reason my faith shook…was because I stopped seeking Him for the answers. I became so wrapped up in putting one foot in front of the other in order to keep moving, that I forgot to allow Him to carry me. I became so intent on staying strong, that I forgot (again!) to lean on Him. I became so afraid of the future, I forgot to let Him comfort me and remind me that He already has it all worked out.
So, I SHOULD be ashamed of this. A center stone of who I am…my faith…was shaken.
But I’m not.
Because in that shaken faith, I found something that I didn’t know…at least not consciously.
Not everything that shakes…breaks.
You see…my faith shook…but as soon as I was ready to stop being a cosmic brat…it was still there. Unbroken, uncracked, and maybe even a little bit prettier than before the shake.
My faith is not a concrete block that cannot be shaken by the hand of fate.
My faith is a snow globe. One of those plastic ones that you give to little kids because it’s unbreakable. The hand of fate can pick it up…it can shake it all around…and then…all we will see is more beauty as the snow falls and blankets the scenery like His love blankets me.
So maybe it’s ok for my faith to be shakeable…so long as I never allow it to be breakable.
On this day, when the world celebrates moms, I see you. And you are a superhero.
I see the pain you try to hide.
I see the war you wage as you celebrate your own motherhood, while grieving what never was.
I see the light laughs and excuses you use when people ask how you’re celebrating your mom.
But, mostly, I see the AMAZING mother you have become to your own children despite never having known one yourself. I see the patterns and legacies that you have been strong enough to break to give your children the mother you always wanted.
You are superheros.
And…I see that you are superheros who are often unrecognized and misunderstood.
Today the world celebrates mothers…and grieves with those who have lost their beloved mothers…but they do not see you.
I do.
We live in a society where mothers are always to be loved, adored and respected.
We’ve all seen and heard the words. All mothers love their children. Your mother is the best friend you’ll ever have. You’ll understand one day that everything your mother did was because she loved you.
For those that never had that, they are often told that they misunderstand their mothers. Because, seriously, ALL mothers love their children. ALL mothers do what they do FOR their children.
Except sometimes they don’t. Because…well…mothers are humans. And some humans are broken. Some humans can’t love. Some humans are selfish. Some humans have problems and mental illnesses. Even mothers.
So, some of you grew up without that mom who is being celebrated today. Some of you grieve that connection. Some of you have spent your life wondering why you weren’t enough to earn a mother’s love. Some of you spent your life trying to be “better” so maybe one day you’d be worthy.
I see you.
I am you.
And I am here to tell you…
YOU ARE WORTHY.
YOU ARE LOVED.
YOU WERE A CHILD WITH NO BLAME.
YOU ARE AMAZING AND PERFECTLY IMPERFECT AND DESERVING OF ALL THINGS GOOD AND BEAUTIFUL.
So, today…from one sister to another, I tell you the one thing I hope you focus on all day while YOU are celebrated for being a mom.
You are a superhero. Why do I say that?
You learned how to be this amazing mother, without an example.
You broke the chains of the past.
You became for your children what you always needed.
You have a strength that few will understand.
But I see you.
And I know you see me, too.
So, I will not tell you not to grieve today. That grief has been earned, but moreso…that grief forged you into the mother that your children love and lean on.
*Jazz Hands* Mom 