Bonni_mor

Oh my. When I read this I immediately wanted to give you a hug. I can’t imagine how it must have been to have your heart broken just days before your exams. Honestly, I applaud you for doing as well as you did, and I don’t think you should feel one minute of shame for sustaining a setback as a result.
Please don’t feel humiliated.
Please don’t believe for a moment you are a failure as a human being.
If you choose to respond to him, be true to yourself and let him know exactly how you feel, in the most honest and humble way you can. I know you worry it will make you look weak to admit he broke your heart. It won’t. He must know already. In my view, a person who can stand tall and say “I’m not okay with what you did” is to be admired. Hugs to you! 🙂

@Ladybug,

I wanted to thank you as well. I did some introspection on the drive home and asked myself why I am not more authentic with my daughter now that she is an adult? When I wrote, I believe my daughter hides things from me out of a fear of disappointing me, I realized that I do the same. I fear losing her respect. When I got home I discussed it with her. We sat on the bed and had a long chat about it. I think we both feel a little better today. 🙂

And as I’m writing this, one of the people here at my work whom I recently gave up as a friend has sent me an email that I sorely want to answer in an authentic way! Instead I’ve written something vague and professional, but I can feel that more authentic response burning in my brain, screaming to be set free! I suppose as Anita pointed out yesterday, being authentic doesn’t mean sharing every thought and feeling. We live in a world that is growing smaller by the day and civility is sometimes the best course, even if it means rewriting that email reply three times before you hit “send.” LOL 😉

Hang in there Ladybug. Keep smiling – or not. 🙂

Ladybug,

Just a thought, after reading your post from April 4: While I can identify with your new journey to authenticity, I can also identify with your mom just a bit. As the mother of an 18-year old daughter, I walk a thin line between being authentic around her and being a role model. If I come home after a crappy day at work, I tend to put on a happy face and set my worries aside as best I can before greeting her for the evening. On the one hand, I suppose that does make me fake, but on the other hand, I don’t believe parents should burden their children with the stresses of their daily life. As much as I would love to be her friend, she’s still my daughter and I have responsibilities to her in that role first.

I once heard it said that the scariest thing to a child is to see their parent NOT in control. Now, I’m certain that by now my daughter has figured out I’m not always in control, but I do still try to project an image of stability and calm around her – to give her consistency and a feeling of security in her life at home. Conversely, while I don’t always expect her to be happy and cheerful, I am on the lookout for drastic changes in her personality because I know she may not always confide in me when she’s dealing with something worrisome in her world. She worries about “disappointing” me and doesn’t always tell me the whole truth.

So yes, when you write it out the way I have above, it makes it sound like my daughter and I are engaged in a huge scam – never really being completely honest with the other about how we are feeling in life. In truth, it just takes time to change the way we see each other from our current adult/child role to a new adult/adult role – and to learn to trust each other in that role as well.

The fact that your mom has zero’d in on the changes in your mood is (maybe) a sign she’s worried about you. Have you considered sitting down with her to just tell her how you feel? You must do what feels right for you, but you might be surprised to hear her tell you she completely understands. If you were my daughter, I’d want to know what was in your head, rather than imagining any number of other things it might be. Just a thought. Keep being true to yourself no matter what. Hugs. 🙂

Nicole,

I will share with you two things that might help: First, Anita is right, the far more important gift you can give your child is to be “present” and happy when you are with her – even if you can’t be there all day. I too wanted to stay home with my kids, but it was never possible for me and, for a long time I felt inadequate as a mother because they were in daycare instead of being home. However, if you ask my kids today (at 20 and 18) what they remember about their childhood, they have many great memories from their time in daycare; making friends, shoving beads up their noses, eating sand (LOL), things I’d never have been able to give them as a stay-at-home mom. They also remember us sitting down to dinner every night and sharing our “daily highlight” where everyone tells about the best thing that happened to them all day, even if it’s only “5 o’Clock finally arrived and I was able to leave work and come home to you!”

Second, and I don’t mean to marginalize any issues you have with your husband, but try asking yourself if these things are really a deal breaker. I find the things that end a marriage aren’t where he squeezes the toothpaste tube, or which way you put the toilet-paper on the spindle, they are serious character flaws. My husband never, never, shuts his sock drawer in the morning. Never. It used to drive me crazy. I fumed about it, or snapped at him about it often: “Are you going to put those socks back after you wear them? Hmm? Then why leave the drawer open?!!” Then one day he left on a two-week business trip and when I came home from work I found his sock drawer open. Suddenly my entire focus changed and that annoying, forgetful gesture became an endearment – something that reminded me of him – and I realized I would miss shutting that damn drawer for the next fourteen days. I never let it bother me after that. I just smile and push it shut – still to this day. 🙂

Try taking a deep breath and letting go of some of the things that maybe don’t matter as much. Treat yourself with tenderness and love too. Have patience with yourself, and with your husband. You are both only human after all. Love your daughter and remember she’s watching you – you are her role model. She’ll never admit it (especially when she hits her teens and you become a complete stupid-head) but she will learn how to be a woman, a mother, and a good person from watching you. Hugs to you. Try to smile today. 🙂

myotherme,

I understand this: “I don’t feel that I can tell the truth to any of my friends or family.” I often feel the same. I tend to keep my darkest thoughts to myself for fear that: A: No one else will understand; B: Everyone else has struggles of their own, so why should I burden them with mine; and C: I spend WAY too much time in my own head and I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill. I’ve also made a couple poor choices when confiding in “friends” in the past and found they took a little too much delight in hearing my life was not perfect, if for no other reason than it brought me down a notch and thus, elevated them.
I too am new here, but from what I’ve seen so far (in the Tiny Buddha community), I don’t believe you’ll find any of the above to be true on this site. We may be strangers, but in that anonymity is a certain openness, acceptance and lack of judgement. I for one am in complete awe of Anita and the fact she is never, never, at a loss for something meaningful and helpful to say. I’m better at empathizing than giving great advice, but I think we are all here for the same reason – we care about our fellow humans. You included! 🙂 <3

myotherme,

I felt I needed to respond just to tell you I did read your post all the way through, and while we don’t know each other personally, I care about you as another human being who is hurting and who was brave enough to post something completely honest and vulnerable. You’ve come to the right place for empathy and understanding. No matter how complicated and messed up you THINK your life is, it has value. You have value. Don’t give up on yourself or this life. It’s never too late to learn and grow and heal and be happy. Hugs to you!

dreaming715,

Thank you for asking me to share my story. I’m not sure it’s a very interesting one – except to me, but it’s probably much the same as many others’. I haven’t told it in many years, and I don’t put myself out there much, but if it might cheer you then I’m happy to share. I’ll try to keep it short.

When I was sixteen I fell in love with a boy. He was sweet and funny and handsome. I was crazy about him and I believed he felt the same about me. I honestly believed we’d be together forever. It makes me shake my head now to think how naïve I was. Eight months later he rather abruptly broke up with me (for another girl), and I was not only completely blind-sided and devastated, but completely disillusioned. I cried for days, moped for weeks, didn’t date again for almost a year. I’m sure everyone has a similar story – the one that got away. I know it seems silly: We were so young and we weren’t even together that long, but he left an imprint on my heart. I was sure I would never again love someone as much as him.

I learned to guard my feelings. At eighteen I became a cynic. Over the next couple years I dated a lot of guys, but didn’t give my heart away to anyone. I still wanted to be loved, to find someone to whom I could say aloud all the silly, sweet, awkward things that rattled around in my head, but I couldn’t risk being wrong again. With each new guy I dated, I went into it knowing they were going to let me down and when they did I quickly moved on – there was no forgiveness or second chance on my part. Occasionally I’d find someone who seemed to really care and I’d convince myself they were only saying it out of a sense of obligation or a desire to manipulate me. I beat guys up (not literally) from a “prove your loyalty” standpoint and they always fell short. I set them up for failure. I drove them away.

The day after a particularly ugly breakup, I went to see my best friend. I sat on her bedroom floor and announced: “I’m done with dating. I’m done with guys. They aren’t capable of love. I’m not sure what it is they think they feel, but it’s not love. I’m so tired of getting my hopes up and then being disappointed. I’m just going to be single for a while. I’ve had enough.” But even at that moment, deep in my silly heart, I still believed in true love. I still wanted to believe I would find it.

Then I met a man. He was calm and confident and charming and sincere. Almost the moment I met him the cynic in me evaporated and suddenly I couldn’t stop blurting out every hopelessly honest and ridiculously romantic thing that popped into my head. And he would smile and move closer instead of stepping back. He made me feel safe to be my unguarded, heart-thrown-wide, silly awkward self again.

Like I had with other guys, I slowly peeled away his layers, but instead of being certain I’d find a rotten core, I hoped this time I would not. The deeper I got, the more I liked him. He was honest, and caring, a person of good character, and he really, really, loved me. There was no doubt in my mind. The day that I stood at the altar with him, saying our vows, I remember feeling a deep, unshakable certainty that I had made the right choice, and there has never been a moment of doubt in my head since. We have been happily married for 25 years, have two kids, a home and a business together. He is my best friend. He’s seen me at my very best, and my very worst, and through it all he has loved me unconditionally. I don’t just love him, I’m still IN love with him. I believe he was MADE for me.

Obviously a lot of life happened over those 25 years, and it wasn’t always easy or perfect, but no matter what life threw at us, we handled it together. I once heard someone say a good marriage is about finding the person you want standing with you, back-to-back, in the foxhole shooting at anything that comes your way. This pretty much sums it up. It’s not always sunshine and roses, but I’ve never had to look over my shoulder to check if he’s still there defending my back. He is.

That’s my story. My apologies for rambling on so long. Thanks again for asking. I’m not sure what I’ve said here will really help you in any way, but I just hope maybe you won’t give up. You sound like someone with a lot of love to give – there are guys who want that – who are mature enough to respect that gift and return it. Hope you have a great day! ☺