“I am so smart, SMRT!”
I like to think I’m a smart woman. Strong, Confident, nothing can hold me back. I’m a wife, a mom, a friend, a daughter, an aunt, a sister. I am a woman of today.
Except when I’m on my own. Alone, I am… scared. Confused.
Child the 3rd gets good grades, has great manners when dealing with teachers, friends parents, people at my work. Outside, I gleam with pride at the boy he is. Alone, I worry about his anxiety, that I’ve passed my fears on to him. I worry that I am raising a boy who’s not going to be as independent as he needs to be. That I’ve helped him too much sometimes. That in the 11 (almost) years he’s been with me, I’ve babied him enough that I wont have enough time to fix it before he moves out. That I can’t fix what I slacked off on.
I am married to a fantastic guy. My best friend, my soulmate. People are always commenting on how cute we are together, how great a couple we are. Alone, I can’t figure it out. Why does he love me??? I’m not the funniest, I’m not the smartest or the prettiest. More times then not I forget to make dinner and he’s stuck doing after a long day at work. A messy house, too much TV, an ever expanding waist line, no energy to do anything. I hate going out, I clam up whenever I’m in a group of people, and when we’re around “his friends”, friends he had before there was an “us”, I feel like an intruder, an interloper or an imposter. I don’t get it. Why would he love that? How could he love that?
Suddenly, this place where I’ve grown to feel comfortable in is changing. New people, new plans, new everything. And I sit and smile, because I would do ANYthing for this family I love so much. Because more then anything they deserve to be happy. More so for having to deal with my neurotic business. But underneath that smile… I’m petrified. What if I don’t fit the mold? What if every flaw I’ve worked so hard at concealing glows like its been put under a black light like a glow in the dark mini golf course. What if they, this family I love so much, can’t hold up in this change? I’m scared of not being needed. Of not being wanted. Even worse, what if my constant worry about all of these things is what pushes everyone away? Who wants to hear all the “worst case” thought that run through my head? I don’t, and I’m the one thinking it!
A son who love me, no matter how bad I screw up his childhood. A husband who loves me even though I don’t understand why. Why am I sitting here waiting for the other shoe to drop? All I can hope is that when it does, they know how much I love them, how much knowing they’re happy means to me.