My dreams are real. I want them to be. But at this point, I feel very far from it than I expected. I have no one to talk to about it. Been planning it on my mind. No one to share the fears, the excitement, and the doubts. No one to plan it with. I’ve never felt so alone. My husband does not engage in conversations with me. I think he is waiting for my plans to fail so we can go back to the life we had, living under his family’s roof. I beg God to not let me go back.
Family, I have no idea who they are except my children. Maybe that’s all there is. I have no place, I have no one. Yet people in my life here think that’s being overly dramatic. I help people at work go through tough times but I have to go through mine alone. No one can seem to level with my thoughts and my thoughts scare people around me here. I feel that even my own husband is annoyed when I speak my mind. I wouldn’t know, he wouldn’t tell me. I don’t know how long this marriage would last before either of us would just choose our comfort over each other.
Is love enough?
Is love enough to have more patience and extend understanding when people do not understand that a messy place is a messy mind?
Is love enough to survive days when you feel the need to carry out and execute the plans on your own?
Is love enough to just succumb so you cannot hurt anyone around you?
Is love enough to turn a blind eye to every boundary crossed?
The answer is I don’t know.
Maybe the easiest route is to let it be. There will never be a perfect place but a place I set for myself. Freedom is never absolute but having my own home is a good start. I found another shackle here. The shackles of my own childhood and hopes of absolute acceptance, love, and protection. Only to find out that no one fully accepts us but ourselves. I am way past my yearning for protection, my time to give that protection has come and my children need them more than ever. Oh God, thank you for making me remember the toxicity of my own childhood. I have to remember that no one has my best interest. My kind of people are the ones who understand relationships as a give and take, and the kind that grows together and engages in the most difficult of conversations. I can’t feel that on either side of the fence where blood and contracts meet. Where do I truly belong?
The answer is up to me.
And I hope I find the courage, strength, and true compassion to accept the child who was deeply wounded and that she’ll always feel those marks, and they’ll never go away. She has to make those dreams come true. Because no one will give it to her. She has nothing to prove anymore. She should be enough.