#diaryofasinglemom

I call you my ex husband because even though you won’t sign our divorce papers, you’re not my husband in my heart anymore. You have become a man I do not know. Ruined the woman who loved you through your flaws, because I am now so broken I don’t know that I will ever be able to love another man again.

Your children. OUR children. Their tears for you only fuel my anger and hurt over the things you’ve done and continue to do. How can you stand yourself when you’re breaking their hearts??? Our daughters first heartbreak was not supposed to be caused by her own father!

I’m so angry. Crushed. Exhausted. We were your FAMILY and you’ve deserted us! Yes, I am the one who wanted out. I left. But you left our kids. They cry for you, and I make excuses for you time and time again. Not wanting anyone to say anything badly about you so the kids don’t hear it, but dying inside because I keep my pain to myself.

I can not eat, I can not sleep, and when I do I’m automatically sick and no true rest comes from it. My body hurts from the stress of wondering how I’ll pay our bills because you’re too immature to help support them.

I carry this pain alone. This overwhelming guilt that I did this consumes me, when in fact it was your decision to choose alcohol over your family. How do I shield my children from those that hurt them, when it’s their father doing the most damage?

Do you ever feel guilty? Do you ever wonder about them? Do you even think about their feelings when you choose to be somewhere else on the day you were supposed to spend with them?

Being single has taught me many variations of things I thought I already knew. Like who I am. Where I want to go in life. Who I want to be for my kids.

But the best thing it’s taught me by far is how to find my self worth again, and not try to define myself through a man’s eyes.

I’ve struggled my entire life with wanting to be the perfect woman, wife, mother. But there is no such thing. Just a illusion of perfection that is a mask for all the trouble lying underneath the surface.

I felt the need to be picture perfect. Now...I embrace my flaws. Every single one of them. Every stretch mark, every freckle, every strand of hair that flies out of my hair tie. Every laugh that I think sounds stupid sometimes, and every funny face I make that makes others think I’m crazy....but in return make my kids giggle.