Birthday, minus nine years

I used to look at my wedding photos and have hope. I used to hold on to early moments in our relationship during bad times like a security blanket or a life raft, looking to those moments to keep me afloat and weather through hardships. I am no longer fooled by disillusion.

I remember my 30^th birthday, sitting in my crappy, tiny apartment listening to him screaming at me through the phone about God knows what. We had only been dating for three months at that time, and I listened as though he wasn’t screaming at me, as though I was an omniscient objective observer, and I remember thinking, “girl, you better run.” 

It was one of those poignant moments in my adult life where I saw two distinct paths, and I chose to go down the wrong one. For nine years.

Nine years I have lived with that screaming, condescending, critical voice. And there’s no denying: it has changed me.

But, coming up on my 39^th birthday this week, some things have not changed. He’s still yelling. And I’m still half listening, observing. I’m still broke and struggling to have my “career” take flight. But there are some distinct changes. I am older, stronger, more discerning. I choose most of the time not to engage or react. And I know now there are choices, and we choose how our life will go down.

Looking back at my wedding photos with Sophie in them, I am filled with grief.

I thought that marrying was the best thing for her and for me. Two incomes, more stability, a family, right?

Wow, was I wrong.

She looked to me, trusted me to make the right decisions on her behalf. We do the best we can with what we’re given. I thought I was making the right decisions.

One night six weeks before my wedding, I almost called it off. My dad said to me, “the most important decision you make in life is who you marry.” I made a choice to marry the wrong person, and it has cost me the biggest sacrifice a mother can lose: the trust of her daughter.

After years of hearing his critical screaming voice at her, she is finally fed up. She has said, “it’s me or him.” Obviously, my loyalty is to my daughter.

But the damage has already been done. And I fear it is too late. Damage to me. But most importantly, damage to my daughters.

Sophie, I wish so much for your sake that I could go back and reverse that decision. Hindsight is 20/20. If I could, I would take it all back, reverse these last nine years. I would do anything to go back to that crappy, tiny apartment, when it was just you and me, Sophie, and you loved me whole heartedly, and didn’t question my allegiance to you. I would give anything for a fresh start.

But I can’t. I can only move forward, try to learn from my past mistakes, and heal. both myself and my relationship with you. 

So I put it all out to the Universe, and pray for forgiveness and to somehow find a clean slate. 

I put it all out there. I'm tired of hiding the truth.

May this birthday find peace. And no screaming. And no criticism. Peace. Only peace.