To be or not to be…a raging bitch?

So here we are, months from my child’s high school graduation and while I am super excited to see her achieve this milestone in her life it has also become a sort of stress-inducing situation.

Let me fill you in on a little bit of the back story:

15 is the age I was when I had her, as was her father.

15 was the age he decided he didn’t want to be a father.

He was in and out of her life, in when he was “attempting” to reconcile our relationship and out when he and I were at opposite ends.

His family, while they made a minimal effort to be in her life, were and are just as self-serving as he is. You know the type, the mom who can’t admit her son is wrong, the type who makes excuses for all his actions… that is who he is, that’s who raised him.

The last 18 years of her life have been an emotional rollercoaster of unresolved feelings and bouts of anger, directed at me because she cannot direct them where they belong, their relationship is not that solid, it would not survive her honesty.

If we’re being honest he wouldn’t accept her honesty, he would simply blame me and say I brainwashed her. Her father is the type of guy who is never wrong and bad things just seem to happen to him, he has never accepted an ounce of responsibility for his actions, I’m speaking in regards to her.

When she was 8, I packed up our stuff and relocated from San Diego to Riverside County, 2 1/2 hours away from him, his family, my family, my friends and anything we’d ever known. It was our fresh start and I could not be more grateful for the move we made.

Not once did he say to me, “Don’t take her.” Instead the first few years I heard a lot of, “I’m going to take you to court.” I welcomed the idea because maybe then he could build a relationship with her. It never happened.

In the 1o years that we have lived here, he has made the trip a handful of times. (I’m not even being dramatic.) On the occasion that he made his way out here to pick her up for the weekend or we met him halfway, I always ended up having to go all the way to San Diego to pick her up because he decided he didn’t want to make the drive to hold up his end of the commitment. I put an end to that quickly and never heard a complaint from him about it.

If this sounds like I’m just complaining about the shitty man I had a child with, I am but it’s only because I need you to understand what’s coming next.

I am the parent. In all aspects. I have always been the parent, even when I turned 18 and then 21, even when I partied and had moments of selfishness, I have always been the parent.

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I am blessed to no longer be doing this alone, my boyfriend has been in her life for almost 8 years now as a father figure and while she doesn’t call him dad, that’s exactly who has been for her.

We have come along way with her, teenagers suck. We’ve dealt with the weed, the drinking, the sneaking out, the sneaking in, the lies, the attitude….(oh Lord the attitude) and the overall teenage drama.

When she began to act out, I made an effort to reach out to him, I explained what was happening and he said, ” I will talk to her.”

Well, that conversation never happened, he has yet to have a conversation with her that reflects him in a parental light. I decided, he just wasn’t that man in her life. (He made that decision for us all actually.)

She loves him, despite all his flaws, she loves him. He has no idea how undeserving of that devotion he is.

Welcome to my dilemma.

 

She gets 7, count them, 7 tickets to graduation. I have no intention of reserving any of those tickets for his family, I had no intention of reserving a ticket for him. I expressed my feelings to her and she expressed hers.

“He’s my dad.”

I guess.

Am I wrong? Am I wrong for not wanting him to be a part of something that WE, her and I, my boyfriend and I have worked so hard on? My boyfriend knows and respects the fact that he will be there, he’s not childish or immature in any way.

I just don’t understand how he could even show his face knowing he hasn’t been a parent her whole life. This parenting shit isn’t easy and I’ll be damned if credit isn’t given where credit is due. WE have done everything to motivate her academics, to help her pursue her college career, to make her a better person.

WE have just simply been her parents.

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Do I let go and just let it play out?

His child support hasn’t been paid in over a year, maybe he can earn his ticket by catching up on his payments? (It’s not about money, it’s about principle.)

Be a fucking father, don’t just pretend to be one for the gram.

Thanks for reading my long post. Your opinions are welcome.

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Self Published.

I recently self-published a book called, “Heart First, Head Later.”

Writing the book was a self-evolving process. I allowed myself to reminisce about my past and the experiences that broke me and helped me grow.

Writing is therapeutic for me and I’m sure many others. As a writer, I can only hope that what I am putting into the universe is acknowledged and appreciated.

When I first began the book it was not going to be based solely on my experiences but those of the women who I find myself learning from. I quickly realized that in order for me to express what other women have taught me, I first had to appreciate what I have taught myself.

“Heart First, Head Later” is my story, through poems and storytelling I allow you a glimpse into who I was and how I became the strong-minded, independent women I am today. This is the scariest thing I’ve ever done. I had a baby at 15 and compared to this, that was a piece of cake.

It is the scariest thing imaginable to put yourself out there for the world to see. To express your truths knowing not only people who do not know you will read it but also people who do know you. I am afraid of being judged for the mistakes I made in my youth, but I am willing to be judged if it will allow a woman or girl who feels like she is in it alone, know that she is not. No women should ever feel as though she is the only one. We have all done things and made mistakes. We are human and in that we are imperfect. In that imperfection lies a beauty that only real people can appreciate.

My boyfriend got a kick out of the title, “Head later”, he laughed. That was not my intent in the title, as he will come to see when he reads it. However, once he reads it he will see how it also ironically makes sense in that way as well. Eeek, it makes me nervous that he will read it but he loves me. Me, he loves me. I wouldn’t be me if not for all the lessons life taught me.

Heres to putting yourself out there and taking chances!! Follow your dreams and jump in Heart first, Head later! 😉

 

 

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Her:

 

I looked over at him, knowing it would be that last time we would have this argument, fight this same fight.

“I can’t do this anymore.” I whispered to him.

He was angry, his jaw clenched and his fists tightened.

He wouldn’t look at me, he stood beside me, I felt the heat vibrating off his body, he would not turn to look at me. The low light coming from the master bath illuminated his body. I could see the muscle definition in his back, the way it flowed down and over his butt. It is not lack of attraction that is ending this, it’s more lack of respect.

I slipped my panties back on and attempted to position myself in front of him, reaching for his face, he pushed my hands away.

I was immediately filled with anger. This was not my doing, the fault was not to be placed on me. Yes, I was ending things but it was because of his lies, his deceit, all the bullshit he’d put me through. He emotionally manipulated me to stay and wait, to hold on.

“Have some faith in me, wait just a little bit longer.” He would plead.

I could hear his voice in my head; over and over the empty promises he made replaying, serving as a reminder, giving me the necessary courage.

I walked out of the bedroom and into the living room where the whole mess had begun. I knew when he said he wanted to talk that we would somehow end up naked. The heated conversation quickly turning into an argument that inevitably led us to the bedroom. Some how, we always ended up naked and in a bedroom, or closet, or jacuzzi.

FOCUS!

It was there in the middle of our sexscapade that I broke down. Completely side swiping him, he had not expected me to react, to cry the way I did but I couldn’t contain myself anymore. He was watching me now as I began to dress, slipping my t-shirt on. I shoved my bra into my purse.

No need, no time. Just go before he convinces you otherwise.

As I reached for my jeans I felt him, his arms wrapped around my waist, he pulled me towards him, turning me to face him.

He received no resistance from me.

“Don’t do this.” The words he knew I wanted to hear, the words I knew would come,”Don’t end this.”

There we stood in the darkness, a darkness we once thrived in.

I cradled his face in my hands, “This was done a long time ago.”

The tears ran freely down my cheeks and I wasn’t angry anymore.  I wiped the tears away realizing his eyes were brimming with tears. I let him go, pulling away I slipped my jeans on, sliding my feet into my converse, no socks necessary, I shoved them into the purse with my bra.

I looked him over one last time, he was strong, built solid. I had loved that about him, he had made me feel so safe once upon a time but he didn’t offer that anymore.

I turned to walk out the front door.

“Jordan. If you leave, if you walk out that door, don’t you look for me again.” His words were mean and I hesitated for just a second before walking out the door.