Uppers and Downers

I haven't been writing that much lately because, honestly, I'm spending my time trying to sort out this new schedule, my new goals and my new role as a mother, professional, wife...

I have to admit, it's been a continuous up and down journey. I have some really great weeks where the stars seem perfectly aligned and then one thing, one tiny thing happens or is said to cause them all to scatter. So here I am, behind deadline, behind on sleep and struggling.

My parents came to visit last weekend. The hostess in me was excited and counted the minutes before they arrived. The daughter in me was scared. Our temporary home is less than ideal. I knew the questions and questioning would be coming. The judgment in her eyes. Disappointment. Resentment toward my husband. To the outsider, it would look like I was trying to punish myself.

And it came shortly after the pizza and breadsticks. Making me frustrated, so frustrated that I had a hard time speaking coherently. Had a hard time making sense. All I could hear was the screaming child in my head asking my mom to just stop and be supportive. To give me a hug and assure me that everything would be fine. That they believe in me. Believe in this man I chose to love. And to stop seeing things through their own life choices but in mine and mine alone.

After seven months of this, I know better. I know not to expect anyone to be open minded. I know that a majority of my family, who by definition, loves me unconditionally and doesn't 'really' judge me. And at the ripe age of 31, I realize it's all bullshit. Family is quite possibly just these people you so happen to share genes with. They may or may not love you more than your friends. And they probably judge you more than any of your critics. I laugh when I think of how many times my friends have commented on being jealous of my relationship with my family. Now, I just smirk when I think about it. To me it's a reminder of how hypocritical we all are. The lines between real and fake are so blurred, it's a wonder any of us stay in any sort of relationship for very long.

And as I prepare for a weekend with my sisters, mother and my aunt who my mom shares everything with, I wonder if it's worth going. Or staying very long. I'm still treating my wounds from a week ago. And I spent half of the night planning my exit strategy. It really is sick and sad in its own way, but for now, avoidance is my safest and easiest defense.

I only hope that as I mature and watch my children grow, that I can find a way to separate my own choices and consequences from theirs. No two people, nor their goals and wants in life, are the same.