I'll burn this bridge with the same lighter I use for my sage.

If you're not making every effort for the children you brought into the world like you do your stepchildren while they are literal CHILDREN; you have zero reason to throw a pity party when they become teenagers/adults and want nothing to do with you.

This cycle ends with my children.

I will no longer practice or allow codependency with/from other adults.

I will no longer make excuses for adults who can't make time to be in their lives.

I will no longer reach out to the other biological parent if I need assistance; if they want to show up and be a part of their lives they can call/text our children or even maybe add events/appointments to their own calendars and offer to assist.

It is not my job, my responsibility to tend to and baby every last adult associated with them by blood.

It is not my children's responsibility either.

And this is the mindset I'm utilizing to ring in the new school year.

I have one elementary school student, one middle school student and one high school student all under my roof.

My littlest has therapies and needs constant supervision.

My middle will be swimming in drama rehearsals and performances.

My biggest? Between needing a damn taxi to chauffeur him around and his odd jobs between family members and family friends, appointments to have his braces tweaked and adjusted, and Lord only knows what else...

We've GOT this! We've never needed you... or you... or even you. We've always had each other and they've always known that Mama will push a bitch down to make sure she's present (unless a sibling had something scheduled prior and I can't be everywhere.)

We make adjustments.

We prioritize self success without harming those around us.

We are aware of those who show up without having to be drug out unwillingly.

These babies were born of my flesh; built brick by brick inside my body... I will be damned if I nurture the same relationships for them that were coddled and cultivated for me in my youth.

If you want to find every excuse to not be present, we will stop asking you for answers.

YOU are the only one to blame for not making the effort. Not your spouse, not your step children, not your job... YOU are the only one to blame for showing them that in order to be relevant they have to live under your roof or merely exist within your field of vision.

It is a shame that I had to even waste my breath to say these things out loud.

But maybe... just maybe... saying them will remind those adults that my children are not pawns. They are not burdens, inconveniences or a means to make you feel better about yourselves. They are humans, future adults, that need to be taught how to survive in the real world. And not JUST survive,  but fucking thrive. I've only ever wanted these baby birds to be happy, healthy, know just how much they are loved and to be self sufficient enough to support themselves.

I am no longer existing to make your lives more manageable while drowning in mine and my kids needs and they need to learn that it is OK to say "no, figure it out for yourself."

Messages in bottles.

Sometimes I send texts to boys I know will never respond.

Now that travel restrictions are loosening, I want to hop a plane to you and say fuck it to the whole world. I want to close my eyes tight and squeeze your hand in mine and then open them under a blanket fort at some shady ass hotel at two in the afternoon. Time will cease to exist in the 36 hours of you + me time.

I can envision dusty sun beams trickling through gaps in our fort. I’ll cry happy sad tears and you’ll kiss my shoulders and pull me close to you so our hearts can whisper secrets to each other,

You’ve crossed my mind at least once a day ever since the last time you’ve held me.

Sometimes when I close my eyes and press my face into the inside neck of my sweatshirt I can smell you even when you’re hundreds of miles away.

I will probably never know another fully absorbed unconditional love like the love I’ve held captive for you ever again.

I want you to write the ending to my daydream. I want your hands sweaty and shaking to reveal what you want, need, desire. Let your heart open up and flood the earth with all the love you’ve ever smooshed down deep inside. Let it out. 

Isolation Station.

There is an isolation that comes with surviving an abusive marriage and suddenly finding yourself single in your late 30’s.

For nearly 15 years you lost friends to your “better half.” You would carry on false hope every time you’d hang with another married couple knowing he would positively ruin any chance of the friendship lasting more than a few months. 

Post divorce you would find yourself invited to gatherings with old friends only to find you feel like a third wheel as the odd man out throwing off the balance of all the other couples. Wives no longer trust you around their husbands as you’re the suddenly single neighbor.

So you fill your days with solitaire, crosswords, half assed DIY projects because your brain only has enough energy to get you through the excitement and “gung ho” phase and you’ll find yourself staring at tools and instructions wondering why you bothered. Once the project is finally assembled you don’t trust setting anything on it for fear it will fall because you said “that’s good enough” about 23 times and you had to brace it against the wall with screws you had laying around. Long story short my etarge cabinet doors don’t line up correctly and overlap a little.

This isolation can be deafening. You’ll mistake adult “play dates” with actual social interaction when you’re only scratching an itch… barely scratching the surface of an intimacy that only comes with a companionship you made yourself believe you once had. You’ll get frustrated with partners because nothing lines up or fits “just right” in conversation or togetherness.

You’ll spend time with family who wouldn’t want to be friends with you IRL because there’s no time to pick up new hobbies and make these friends the traditional way. You’ll discover aspects of yourself that were always worthy of love but you’ll have no one to share these gems with. Sometimes you’ll find yourself praying the desperation of human connection can’t be seen in your mannerisms or in the crinkle of your forced smile. Do you show all your teeth or do you keep them hidden? Where are you supposed to put your hands? Should you lean into something? Did you lock your knees? Playing the part of a friendly human gets old.

I find myself now hoping to re-friend familiar faces at an upcoming high school reunion. But… I’m so sick of making an honest effort only to fall into the same “odd man out” situation.

I want friends.

There needs to be a 12 step program for introverts to overcome their anxieties and insecurities long enough to befriend others in similar situations.