All of me doesn't just involve me.
I have described my actions in previous relationship as dedicated, honest, open and that I shared myself with my partner up to a certain point. It isn't like I was hiding anything or being dishonest. I contributed daily and was transparent. However, I mostly separated the utmost important, vulnerable and newest part of me from our relationship: Motherhood.
We started dating in the summer of 2014, right after Charlotte was born. Even though I was a brand new mother, I was finally in a place in my blessed life where I felt ready to actually have a relationship. And, as my luck (and cruel irony) would have it that is just when he "arrived".
He was/is a good person, but I expressed before that I felt that his actions demonstrated that he did not choose me or prioritize me. Which, I think is why I was so hesitant to involve my sweet, baby girl. But, I was a novice at dating a person like this... a "passive" personality. So, I observed... I waited to see if I was the only person in his life that he treated like that. And, in the very limited people that he introduced me to, the answer was "yes". Those other people made the plans, made the invites and did most of the decision making, which was something as we progressed in our relationship I talked with him about and we came to some terms with. He explained this as part of his personality, and I accepted it, as long as he understood that I was more of a planner. I had to be, but I needed more from him and I think he felt it.
During most of the time that we dated I was working two jobs. He had all his free time in the evening to himself, he could basically do what he wanted, and he did. We saw each other every other weekend and some times more. He received the benefits of being in a relationship with the added bonus that his "free" time was fully his because I was at work. Then, I get a great offer with one job, decide to take it (for a lot of reasons) and start working just one job during the day and we start spending more time together in the evenings. The dynamic started to shift in our relationship. I am more of a presence, he has less time to himself. He is required to give more. Things are becoming more serious. Those needs of mine are still the same... Perfect storm.
When I came to him at a low point to ask for help, he expressed that all he could see was need. I can understand, and consider my part in that. Even if I did need him, I had withheld the vital information of the level I needed him to fulfill, and because of seeing his repeated actions (and lack thereof), doubted his abilities. It was unspoken, but it existed. I needed him to choose to prioritize me and Charlotte in his life through his words, actions and commitments and to daily, actively contribute to our relationship. Ironically enough, we had this conversation in Charlotte's presence, and I can count on my hand the times that all three of us had spent time together.
The possible impact of the choices I made have sunk in over the last couple of weeks as I have had some time to process. And by digging out this self-inflicted bullet, hopefully the wound can have a better chance of healing.
I feel guilt. And... I am afraid. How could I have allowed myself to love someone so much that clearly wasn't invested? What kind of a role model is that to my daughter? Why did I struggle and ask someone to prioritize me, when I didn't even prioritize myself and my family?
I try to sit with myself and comfort that girl who is shaking with tears for these terrible mistakes she has made. I can try to accept the apology, that more recently has come daily. I am trying to see myself for who I really am - a whole, living, faulted, strong and weak mother... who is fighting like hell to stand on these wobbly legs, and to forgive her.
I sit across from tortured people each day, and I can see some parts of myself in them. Their stories are mostly tragic, their souls are defined as tormented, and I can respect their struggle. I cannot fix it. I cannot exactly understand it. But, I can respect where they are, and that their experience is real and I feel it with them. It reminds me that I am part of a tumultuous, human current that I can surrender myself to.
No comments:
Post a Comment