I had always known how difficult raising children would be and I knew that raising them alone would be even more difficult. My ability to plan helped with the logistics but children require so much more than a logistical task master. They need a person to talk to. Some one to teach them what life is about. They need more than food, clothes, and shelter. Children need to be loved. Loved and parented so that they can grow, live, and pass that love on to the next generation. Sounds simple but I wasn’t raised that way. I did’t feel that I possed enough love for myself, so there was definitely not enougy to be pass on to the next generation.
Breaking out of the box you have been in is definitely going to be hard. However, it will never be as torturous as dying the slow death caused by pretending that you like the box.
I was new at this love thing, so I came out with guns blazing. I wanted to go places together, do cool things, to hang out all the time, but most of all just to be held. It’s so simple but the things I wanted most of all was to simply be held. For him to look into my eyes knowing everything good and bad about me. To have his arms around me and feel that I was safe. To be loved for my imperfections and to be allowed to grow into the best version of myself. My ideas of how love was expressed was purely based on what I had gathered from songs, movies, TV shows, and books. I had never seen what I believed to be real love exercised by anyone in my life. I just collected the good parts of the real relationships that I had seen while vowing to avoid the negative parts. I had it all figured out.
After my sister returned home, I immediately started looking for a decent two-bedroom apartment that I could afford for the two of us. I wanted to get close to the beach or to have a nice view that would set the mood for great things. I am really into esthetics. I have always felt that…
Love is another one of the words that I have struggled to truly understand. I grew up in an environment where I didn’t feel loved in the way stories, movies, and TV shows described it. I knew my parents cared about me, but I honestly didn’t feel loved and therefore had no real-life reference for what love actually felt like or really was. I had only the perfect stories from sources not based in reality. The sad part is while I longed for that perfect love, deep down I didn’t feel that I deserved it or would ever actually have it.