Things I Need to Work on in 2010
Everyone is talking about New Year’s resolutions. I never buy into that. Just seems like an empty promise for a year. I don't think most people take it seriously anyway. Instead, I reflect upon the previous year and look at what I need to change about myself. It may not take a year, or it may take longer.
At the beginning of 2009 I decided I was going to work on not cringing every time I heard the word “mom”. I have such a negative connotation regarding the word, mom since I didn’t exactly have the best mom in the world. My girls call me “Mommy” and I know one day they won’t continue that. In fact, one of them said “Oh Mom, you’re so silly,” and I swear I had to force myself not to physically bristle when I heard it. So, the only way to remove the bridge of negativity between the word mom and my own mother, was to repeat this phrase in my head,
“I’m a good mom.”
Seems simplistic doesn’t it? It’s even harder when my negative inner voice says to the contrary. Somehow telling myself that phrase over and over again at least once a day made me associate the word mom to myself. Don’t get me wrong, it took me months to do that. I had to work at it.
So what’s the project this year? Two things come to mind. Allowing myself to be hugged or touched and to say the phrase “I love you”. Growing up it was a given you hug people hello and goodbye in our family. I hated it. My parents would hug me and I was supposed to believe they did it out of love? No way. It felt fake. Soon, anyone who would put their hand on my arm, or hold my hand would make me feel uncomfortable. I just was never that touchy-feely person. My emotions for people I cared for came out as words in a note, a card, or a phone call. I couldn’t hug them. I soon found as a parent, I needed to hug my children. Children want that affection. I would try desperately to not make it seem antiseptic when I hugged them. When I went to SAFE Alternatives, I learned to trust people to be genuine. KB was the first person I trusted to hug me. It was literally after being around her for two weeks and I'd had a rough emotional time of it that day. She said she wanted to hug me, and asked if it was OK. I agreed. For the first time in my life it felt genuine. She truly cared about me.
I’m still working on it. I can hug the girls and feel them melt in my arms. I hugged my friend, Heather, in California and it still feels like that hug is imprinted on my soul. The last few months, I’ve been trying to get into the habit of hugging my sisters. I’m forced at family functions to hug my relatives, and I hate it. I’d rather say goodbye and walk out the door. It doesn’t help I’m only 5 feet 3 inches tall either. I have a tall family which leans in for the hug whether I want it or not. The only way I could avoid it is if I took two steps backward. Boy that wouldn’t be awkward. No, not awkward at all. (Insert sarcastic eye roll here) So, I’m trying to trust people. I’m trying not to bristle at someone putting their hand on my shoulder. I have no problems shaking hands. I’m not one of those limp hand-shakers. It’s the damn hug I have to work on. I’ll get there.
The second thing I have always struggled with. I have a horrible time saying the phrase, “I love you”. I can write it, type it, whatever, but I just struggle saying the words. I know every time for the last seven years, I have been purposely saying it to my girls. They need to hear it often and know that it's sincere.
Whenever I heard that phrase as a child it was always associated with the spanking or vitriol that came before it.
“I’m doing [or did] this because I love you.”
God, I wish I had a dollar for every time I heard that. I probably could have run away and lived a lavish lifestyle somewhere else. I rarely heard that phrase in any other way growing up. I do recall one time when my mom said she loved me, but she was drunk at the time at a party that took place at the house when I was seven. It was like giving me an empty promise.
I could write I love you in every love letter in high school and in college. I can write it in all of the cards I send to friends. I can type it to people in Twitter. I just can’t seem to say it directly to a person. I can’t recall if I ever said it to any boyfriends in high school. You’d have to ask them.
I’ve already started working on it. I hugged my youngest daughter tonight, and felt her melt into my arms, lay her head on my shoulder. In that moment, I loved her with all of my being. I knew I had to say it. Children need that. So, I whispered in her ear, “I love you so much.” She let out a sigh and said, “I love you too, Mommy.” It was real, genuine, and not forced. I hadn’t said it with the intention of getting it said back to me, but in that one moment it was real. It meant something other than just words. I want to believe when I hear that phrase it will be real. I want to say it and mean it, too.
Lastly, I want to be able to accept rejection and not have it wound me so deeply. I know this is just a fact of human nature to be drawn to people who are attractive. I know there is a weight bias in our society and I can’t do anything about that. It hurts when I talk to people online, and then make friends with them and they ask for a picture. So, I send one. That’s the last I hear from them. Better yet, I get this weird “you’re beautiful” comment, and never hear from them again. My favorite is when the way in which they speak to me changes. I become a strange sort of acquaintance. They are very friendly before, talking of meeting, and having coffee or going out for a beer. Then barely a hello after they get my picture. Eventually, I feel like the sucker for believing people are different than that. Rejection is a part of life. I know this. It just hurts so much.
I feel like there’s something wrong with me when I feel rejected. Realistically, in my head, I realize I can’t be friends with everyone. Not everyone is going to like me. Not everyone can see past my weight or perhaps the way I dress, etc. Not everyone is going to be nice. I just don’t want to feel utterly wounded by rejection. When I feel wounded to the core, I feel flawed, damaged, ugly, defective, stupid, worthless, and waste of life. It’ll be a tall order to not go to that dark place, but that’s what I’m going to work on. I wish all of you who read this can see past what I look like to the real me. I’d love you all for it and might even give you a hug.
Posted by kitterztoo at 1/12/2010 10:48 PM 
Categories: Facets of Me
Tags: love blog kids feelings wounded abuse fat trust mom honesty emotions rejection weight girls hug 2010
Categories: Facets of Me
Tags: love blog kids feelings wounded abuse fat trust mom honesty emotions rejection weight girls hug 2010
One day I will meet you in person. And you will be able to let me hug you. And it will feel so damn good. Trust me.
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I cannot wait! Honestly! I'd better get working on this then.
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