"With the same measure with which you judge, you shall be judged."
Not an exact quote, but it's how I remember it.
I only wish God could have promised, "With the same measure with which you love, you shall be loved."
But I guess he knew it wasn't in human nature.
But can you imagine?
I would have been loved lavishly in my life.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Rebutting the indictments (part 1)
You said I wasn't family-oriented, that I was "single-oriented to the core."
If you had really loved me the last five years, if you had been listening and paying attention, having empathy for me, really trying to know me, you would have known that I did a lot of grieving while we were together about the fact that my choice to be with you meant saying goodbye to the last vestiges of any hopes I ever had about having a biological family of my own.
You would have understood that I experienced this as a loss, the death of a dream, but you would have known that I thought what we had and were building together was worth it, was bigger and better.
You would have noted all the many many things I did and gave and tried to be in order to make "family" out of us four. How hard I worked to try to integrate with your already existing family (both the girls and more extended family, not just yours but integrating you all into mine, too), often against difficult odds and circumstances. You would have noted, internalized, and appreciated all the special "me" touches that I brought to your home, both physical items as well as events and - most importantly - my spirit.
I held so little back, especially those first two years. The few things I did hold back were only ever for my own self-preservation or (rarely) self-care and also because I really, truly believed it was in the best interests of all of us and for the long-term success of us as a family unit.
I wish that you could have trusted me. I wish that you could have put two and two together (I thought you were skilled in math), that you could have realized that the same wisdom and perspective that offered you advice you often liked and appreciated might also sometimes be just as valid when you sometimes didn't like what I had to say. Either I was wise and insightful, with a gift for perceiving and understanding things on a deeper emotional level, or I wasn't. It wasn't fair of you to pick and choose in that regard based on what you liked or didn't like to hear from me, based on what suited or didn't suit your ultimate intentions.
I have more I still need to say on all of this...
If you had really loved me the last five years, if you had been listening and paying attention, having empathy for me, really trying to know me, you would have known that I did a lot of grieving while we were together about the fact that my choice to be with you meant saying goodbye to the last vestiges of any hopes I ever had about having a biological family of my own.
You would have understood that I experienced this as a loss, the death of a dream, but you would have known that I thought what we had and were building together was worth it, was bigger and better.
You would have noted all the many many things I did and gave and tried to be in order to make "family" out of us four. How hard I worked to try to integrate with your already existing family (both the girls and more extended family, not just yours but integrating you all into mine, too), often against difficult odds and circumstances. You would have noted, internalized, and appreciated all the special "me" touches that I brought to your home, both physical items as well as events and - most importantly - my spirit.
I held so little back, especially those first two years. The few things I did hold back were only ever for my own self-preservation or (rarely) self-care and also because I really, truly believed it was in the best interests of all of us and for the long-term success of us as a family unit.
I wish that you could have trusted me. I wish that you could have put two and two together (I thought you were skilled in math), that you could have realized that the same wisdom and perspective that offered you advice you often liked and appreciated might also sometimes be just as valid when you sometimes didn't like what I had to say. Either I was wise and insightful, with a gift for perceiving and understanding things on a deeper emotional level, or I wasn't. It wasn't fair of you to pick and choose in that regard based on what you liked or didn't like to hear from me, based on what suited or didn't suit your ultimate intentions.
I have more I still need to say on all of this...
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
I wish
So, I realize now that you were not a thing that I could hold onto or force to be with me in a certain way.
I did have to say no to certain ways of you being with me. But my mistake was in trying to force you, rather than just accepting you as you and accepting my own truths for me.
Still, I wish that I knew how to redeem it all so that we didn't have to lose everything.
I wish I could turn back the clock. Have a do-over. Though I was me, I was who I was, and you were you, so I guess we both did the best we knew how at the time.
I can't stay in that place, I have to keep moving forward, keep learning, keep growing.
I wish that you were here by my side, moving forward, learning, and growing with me. It's a frightening, lonely, painful process and I wish you were here, that we could be going through it together, to lean on and comfort one another through it.
I did have to say no to certain ways of you being with me. But my mistake was in trying to force you, rather than just accepting you as you and accepting my own truths for me.
Still, I wish that I knew how to redeem it all so that we didn't have to lose everything.
I wish I could turn back the clock. Have a do-over. Though I was me, I was who I was, and you were you, so I guess we both did the best we knew how at the time.
I can't stay in that place, I have to keep moving forward, keep learning, keep growing.
I wish that you were here by my side, moving forward, learning, and growing with me. It's a frightening, lonely, painful process and I wish you were here, that we could be going through it together, to lean on and comfort one another through it.
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