In school I learned from my peers not to like myself much. According to them I was too short, had 4 eyes, and when my front teeth still hadn’t surfaced by 7th grade I was deemed a freak. I got a partial plate that year, and from that moment on if I wasn’t a freak before I surely was a freak there after. Certainly not good enough to be called a friend, especially by the bosom buddies I ran with who had just discovered boys. Worse yet when the boys had discovered them, I suddenly was regulated to the sidelines. They still said hello and made small talk, but from then on I became the loner that I am to this day. Over the years I have learned to accept it as fact.
Back then the rejection hurt. I didn’t understand it. It is not like I smelled. I wasn’t obnoxious. My mom used to tell me if I was nice to everyone, they in turn would be nice to me. My mom lived in her own fairy story where she was certain simply because a lot of people said hello when we went to football and basketball games that I had oodles of friends and therefore I was popular. I don’t think she ever believed me when I explained that they were merely people I knew, acquaintances at best. We didn’t hang, we didn’t eat lunch together, and we never ran around together on the weekends. When it got right down to brass tacks, I didn’t have close friends.
Marrying an abusive alcoholic when I was 19 didn’t improve my outlook on myself much. I should have said no but at that point I didn’t have the guts. The guy liked me enough to want to marry me, and even though I had clear misgivings I went through with it. In hindsight, it was the biggest mistake of my life. I should have had the balls to say no, shove my bridal bouquet right up his a$$, and run hell bent for election out of that church until I seen day light. Instead I said I do and endured 4 and ½ years of being that asshole’s punching bag simply because I wanted to be apart of a twosome. I know now I didn’t deserve that treatment, but at the time I endured it, was ashamed by it, and was certain I must have done something to deserve it or he wouldn’t have felt the need to dish it up.
I eventually found the balls to stand up to him, but at that point I didn’t do it for me. By then I didn’t give a tinker’s damn if he killed me. The one thing he wasn’t going to do was start bullying my mom. I stood up to him, and he divorced me. Evidently a punching bag with a backbone loses its appeal. Once my mom died, I embarked on a journey to find myself along a road littered with mistakes. In a last ditch effort to find happy ever after I paid a dating service to literally find me a husband. If they couldn’t I was resigned to live out the rest of my days alone. I had nothing to lose, and little confidence there was anyone decent out there who would want the likes of me. I paid forMatchmaker to find me a man with little hope that they would. Guess what, they did and I married him and had two beautiful kids. I gave up my full time job when the first arrived to be a full time mom and have been at it ever since.
By the time I hit my 4th decade of life on this planet I was beginning to wonder if all my life was going to amount to was wiping butts and noses. I prayed about it and almost instantly the opportunity to write online for this company fell into my lap. I began blogging, and slowly but surely found my voice. By the time I did, the company had gone under and I was left without a website, the small income they paid me, and once again grasping for straws. Fortunately I had learned from my experiences and I designed this website and continued on. Somewhere along the way I became a writer. It wasn’t something I imagined I would be doing, but I have found I can’t imagine life without doing it. I have no idea where my words flow from, only that they do. Words flow as easy as the air I take in and out.
After over 40 years of living , I still enjoy being quiet, although now my quiet is punctuated with giggles, a good dose of silliness, and the capacity to say just about anything. I no longer take anyone’s $hit and have no problem speaking my mind. I am happier now than I have ever been. I am capable of the outrageous, but at the same time walk the world with a fair amount of common sense. I am loyal and kind, incapable of dealing with drama, and as one dear blogging buddy recently said a straight shooter. I have a habitually sunny disposition and plenty of empathy and compassion for others. I expect very little, and celebrate everything.
I can handle anything life throws at me, even when I think I can’t, I manage. I can be hilariously funny without even trying and I have an amazing ability to find the funny in just about every situation. I have found a deep faith in G0d that sees me through anything life throws my way. I live daily with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. My self esteem issues have come a long way. I am me, like me, love me, hate me, take me or leave me, I am what I am for better or for worse until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
Today the folks at NaBloPoMo want to know my take on doubt. I think everyone is hit with a shred of doubt at some point in their lives. As you get older you get a little more in tune with yourself and realize what your limitations are. You begin to know what you are good at and know yourself well enough to understand what makes you happy. I know I have a doubt in myself that never totally leaves. I would like to kick doubt’s a$$ right out of my head and fill my mind with confidence. I haven't ever been able to accomplish that yet, but I try everyday. It is habit to be unsure of myself, one that I have fought each day of my life. I am sure I am not the only person in the world that has ever had doubts.
When my mom died I had a lot of doubt in G0d. Let’s just face facts. I had doubt that I would even be able to continue without her in my life. I never fathomed that the end of her life would begin a new chapter in mine. I figured the world would come to an end, but it didn’t. I didn’t understand at that point that letting my mom die was probably what she wanted most. She had suffered enough and death would have been a relief for her. She was ready for the end to come and was resigned to it. In hindsight, I can understand that. At the time I prayed G0d would heal her against all odds. After all, other people had beaten cancer and survived. Why not her? It wasn’t meant to be, and her time here was through. I get that now. I desperately wanted G0d to answer my prayers but back then when she died I felt he had abandoned me. It made me sad and angry all at the same time. Still I held onto the belief that G0d loves everybody, but He had a lot to deal with and He probably didn’t have time for insignificant me. I fought Him every step of the way and did my own thing. I found out the hard way, which probably wasn’t the way to go.
Several years back I injured my back and was facing back surgery. The enormity of dealing with the aftermath of a major surgery with two small children alone with my husband on the road overwhelmed me. At that point in my life, I gave up and gave it over to G0d and decided if I was meant to be paralyzed then so be it. If I was meant to live in pain, so be it. It was out of my control and I couldn’t do a thing about it. I only asked for the strength and perseverance to get me through. I made my peace with it. The week before surgery was scheduled I went to my pre-op appointment. After examining me, the surgeon smiled the biggest smile. He told me that I no longer needed back surgery, and he had no intention of fixing something that no longer needed fixing. My eyes filled with tears and I knew then that even I mattered to G0d. He had been paying attention and like the doctor said had performed a modern day miracle on my behalf.
That day I lost my doubt in the power of G0d. I lost all doubt that He knew what was best for me, and I believed without any doubt in my mind. So even though I am not outwardly religious by any stretch of the imagination, I believe without a shadow of a doubt that if I ask G0d for help or guidance He will do what is best and answer. He may not give me the answer I am hoping for, but it will be an answer that is to the good in the long run and at all levels. I have no doubt that one day I will see my mom and dad again. I will see those that have gone on before me. I have no doubt we will all be together again. I believe. He always provides and in that I have no doubt until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
