Monday, May 31, 2010

untitled

oh memorial day
what am i memorializing?
failures.
a failed marriage...
started at 20, with preconceptions
and secrets
destined to crash and burn.

it makes sense that it ended
but there are two girls
left in the wake
of my fear, insecurity
selfishness
ugliness
unlovability
fat

so many other naked women haunted my marriage
entered my marriage bed
stole my husbands heart.
i fought for little pieces of his
diseased
broken
perverted
heart
thinking that was the best i could do
the best i deserved
all i could get
wrong

i gave years of my life
the health of my body
the life of my heart
the desires and dreams of my soul
to a man that didnt deserve them.
some days i cant
live
enjoy
dream
hope
feel beauty

but its time that he stop taking that away
my Kinsman redeemer said
its time to let go of the life you lost
so you can capture the life
I have to give you.
so here goes.

My first time

This is my first foray into the world of blogging. I have little time, little motivation, but lots to say. I have been a single mom (SM from here on out) for over 4 years, and have found it to be difficult and exhausting and full of crazy. Like, quantifiable amounts of crazy, oozing from every crack, corner, and pore of our lives.

A bit about 'us':
I am 27 and have just finished my first semester of college. Yeah, yeah, better late than never...except when it comes to your period. [insert shameless segway here]
My oldest daughter, Genevieve, is 6 and about to finish kindergarten. She reads, writes, and creates general mayhem, all while looking like a 14 year old. I am whittling my bad-boyfriend stick with my toes as we speak.
Isabella (or Izzy) is 3 1/2 and almost always naked. Some people, myself included, drink when 5 o'clock hits. Izzy...gets nude. And I mean butt-ass nekkid. And then dances around the house/livingroom/back yard/walmart aisle. And if it weren't for all of the dirty old men around, it would be kosher.

I have spent the last 18 months of my life desperately trying to find myself...as an adult, as a woman, as a global citizen. Trying to be defined by something other than 'mother' or 'exwife' (more on that one later) is the quintessential struggle that I have to overcome. And talk about transparency...the interwebs is the best place to do it. I am not catholic, but I totally identify with the feeling of freedom one must find in dumping all of your shit on the shoulders of another human being. Having someone who knows all of that stuff. Even if they never come out of their holy closet.