So at 17 I found myself dating somebody who I knew in my heart was not right for me. In fact he was stifling and mean spirited and violent and emotionally abusive and "straight out the trailer park" to quote Kid Rock.
But he was jealous. He would get so mad if anybody even talked to me even prior to us dating. I remember one night, a month or so before we got together he actually got physical with somebody over my attention. My best friend at the time said that was sweet, it meant he REALLY liked me.
So we dated, it was up and down. I admit at the time part of me got off on the drama of it and of course he must really love me if he acted so crazy right?
Then I broke it off.
Then I found out I was pregnant.
Again, that darn best friend " you really should tell him you are pregnant before you make any decisions". You see I had a abortion a little over a year before and didn't regret it. We were using the pull out method as many a parent has done.
I had friends with babies and I saw my mother and grandmother in their teens with kids. I had plans and they did not include a child. I know you are thinking birth control duh! I was on birth control, I missed my yearly which would have gotten me my next round of pills but missed it because I was too busy having fun. I called to reschedule. They couldn't see me for several weeks. So in my now 18year old mind I figured that I had so much hormone in my system that what were the chances?
The chances were good. I come from a fertile people. So there I was facing the monster telling him I was pregnant with his child and I was not going through with the pregnancy.
He cried. He told me everything I wanted to hear. Don't. Move in with him. Be a family. I became convinced that it was the right thing to do. Stiff upper lip, made your bed now lie in it. Won't be so bad. He asked me to marry him. I had the sense to say no, I said no to this request more than once over the next 2.5years.
We got a apartment.
I got hit the first day we moved into that apartment. The phone didn't get turned on and somehow it was my fault. I spent the next few years in a nightmare. Accused of being a whore daily, punched, raped, pissed on. Hit. Bruised inside and out.
I still tried. Tried to what I don't know. Make it better? Make him better? Me?
I finally left. Things were really rough for me and Amanda and not long after leaving him the bottom fell out. He started molesting her. Told the arresting officers that he was lonely, she reminded him of me. Court dates, mandated therapy. Supervised visits and then at age 6 he stopped seeing her. The seeing her did her more damage than the abuse did I feel that in my heart. I know it to be true.
Why this back story? She is the same age I was when I had her. I love my daughter, I have and will walk through fire for her. But there has always been so many layers to this complicated business of being her mother. Guilt, shame, anger, resentment. There I said it. Resentment. Not now but then and due to that more guilt and shame.
I find myself in awe of her, afraid of her, mad at her. I love her and want to scream at her. Don't you get it? Love YOURSELF! Be YOURSELF! Trust and value YOURSELF!
Our relationship is "complicated". This is not how it was supposed to be. I often wonder what it must be like to bring a child into the world amidst happiness and love. To eagerly anticipate the arrival of that little person. To not have basic surviving cloud the joys of motherhood. I will never know that. It makes me sad. I do not love her any less for it. I love her different. Fiercely. We are so alike but she does not listen. We are so different. She is of me. She is 18.
Let me add this- Amanda is beautiful and creative and smart and the thought of losing her takes my breath away. Whether I lose her through her hating me or moving away. I still check on her before I go to sleep, looking at her sweet face, the little weird inhale she does while dreaming. I LOVE HER. With all my being.
I told my therapist this a few months back, that there was a plan. Amanda is the only thing I ever tried to do "right" to not take shortcuts with to hold in such awe and love that her succeeding would be the crowning jewel in my crown.
I was going to be her parent and then when she was older, say 18- we would be best friends. She would understand all my talking and trying, all the mothering and rules and talks about sex and boys and ambition even when she didn't want them. But that isn't happening. And it may never happen. It breaks my heart that my plan didn't come to be.
Again, so like me and yet so alien to me.
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