Troubled Domestic Goddess

Image by Will Montague via Flickr

Some have called me the strongest woman they know.  Others courageous, confident, annoyingly perfect…but according to my inner dialogue, I’m none of these.

I don’t see myself as strong, courageous or even confident, and definitely no where near perfect.  I swear those people have an interesting view of “perfect”.

In fact, I don’t even know who I am anymore.  You might call it the twenties curse.  Let me tell you, I was far more secure as a teenager then now.  I knew who I was, what I wanted, where I was going and how to get there.  In finite detail.  My saying as a teen was that I was “perfectly me”.  I was unstoppable, and not in that annoying teenage “know it all” way.  Even if I have been accused of that now and again.  I don’t know it all, I just know a lot. :)

Then my confidence got shaken…big time.  Emotionally abusive relationships will do that to you.  Of course I didn’t realize that at the time, but that’s neither here nor there.  Many know that I’m a single Mom, but very few know the story that leads up to it.  I don’t talk about it much, in fact I try to avoid all conversation about my ex unless I absolutely have to discuss him.  I blame myself for most of it, from my fatal attraction to Leos (and Scorpios), to not listening to my intuition before saying “I do”, to not leaving sooner, to any number of situations.  I don’t blame other people, I focus on my part and the things I had control over.  I saw it as a “learning experience.”

But I’m not sure now what I learned.  Honestly.  Well, besides how to piss off a Leo male in about .003 seconds flat.  But I’m a Taurus, it was already in my blood. :)  All I seem to have taken from that relationship is a lack of confidence in myself, though for whatever reason I don’t care about what other people think.  I care what I think.  And I am my own worst enemy.  I have no confidence and no respect for myself anymore…and with my sharp tongue, you wouldn’t want to see what goes on in my head.  Seriously.  I’ve reduced men and women to jelly with words alone…multiply by 10 or so to get my own high standards and inner dialogue.

I never healed.  The “no baggage queen” has baggage.  Yuck.  And it really has little to do with him (though I’m sure he helped some), the fact that gets me the most is that I didn’t listen to myself, and I ended up breaking an enormous promise to myself.  I don’t make commitments lightly, especially not marriage.  I can tell myself that I did what seemed best at the time, but I knew immediately that I made the wrong choice.  Just as the poor bewildered Leo, who comforted his bawling bride for a few hours.  Though I’ll be damned if pregnancy hormones didn’t make an excellent excuse when it was obvious he was clueless and very non-helpful.

That’s where I’m at, sitting at the bottom of the barrel looking at a tiny piece of sky.  I have an excellent chance to start fresh, to live my life…if I can just get out of my own way for a minute.  Have I mentioned that I hate the 20s?  But I’m not ready for 30…there are too many things I wanted to do before then, and I’m not so sure I can handle hitting another milestone with my life in rubble.  I went years without dreams, now that I have them back, I’m not letting go.  I just need to figure out how to go from the bottom of this barrel out into the fresh air and sunshine.