Holiday season, birthday season…it all happens now. My youngest sons birthday is in a week. Then Christmas. Then my older sons birthday a month after that.
Being a mom has made me realize just how much I missed out on growing up. I was never loved, I was never taken care of…no one was ever too concerned with or about me.
The amount of tears, hours, and money that I put into my kids, making damn well sure they’re taken care of, and have absolutely no choice but to feel how much I love them…
Honestly, I’m probably doing something wrong. I’m sure I’m overcompensating. Or maybe I’m not. I honestly don’t even know.
I put everything into those that I love. My kids, my husband, my kids therapists, my therapist…I put in more than I have to give. And I want to. I feel like I need to. Because they all play a role in my life. And anyone who plays a role in my life deserves that recognition.
It’s important to me that those in my life that play a large role know that they’re appreciated.
I put so much into this stupid holiday season every year.
And every year I’m left wondering if anyone has ever put in any kind of effort for me. My parents tried…I think they tried. But I can certainly say I never felt loved by them.
I live my whole life searching for love, for acceptance…for fucking anything positive.
I take care of everyone, but what I want is to be taken care of.
My life is spent trying to nurture, love, accept…I do everything for everyone. And I want to. It makes me happy to give others a part of me that I never received.
But I wish I had that too…that feeling of being loved, taken care of. It’s a part that I’m missing, that I desperately need.
It’s no ones job to take care of me, or worry about me, or love me…
But I wish it was.
It must feel good…
To be taken care of.
To feel loved……to feel safe.
I wish I knew that feeling.
But at least my kids do. And I guess that’s all that matters.