Confession #21: I think I did a good job choosing my first husband.

I was 24 almost 25 when I met the man I married. I was wrapping up my college education and, frankly, had given up hope of starting a family before starting over somewhere new. Then I met my ex.

I wasn't planning on dating him. He wasn't a member of my faith and I had determined that I was going to marry someone with the same life perspective and goal I had at the time. This meant marrying in my faith because I was aiming to married not only for this life but also for the next. I believe these blessings are only fully available as we make promises with God and our spouse in God's house--a temple--using God's power that He restored through the Prophet Joseph Smith.

This isn't meant to be a lesson on religion but you have to understand a little bit about me. I live my religion. That doesn't mean I go around condemning people not of my faith. But it does mean that I needed someone who could handle someone who has my beliefs. On that note, to find out more about my faith, please visit Mormon.org which has information direct from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. These are the things that anyone marrying me would have to be okay with. To be my friend or associate, you don't have to agree with all my beliefs. We can agree to disagree. But marriage is different. 

My ex-husband did an amazing job convincing me that he adored me in large part because he convinced me that he adored my faith in God and how I lived it. Before and while we were dating, he praised my decisions and openly told me he thought my choices were amazing. 

And he embraced them, too. I didn't introduce my religion to him but met him as he was investigating my religion. By the time I really got to know him, he'd already decided to join my church. In fact, our first real conversation was tied to my form of congratulating him on his decision. I was going to make him scripture covers and needed to know his favorite colors. 

From the beginning, he was honest to me about his rough past. His life was different from mine in so many ways. He made some poor choices in his life. But I could see his goodness and that goodness only grew as I watched him allow God to influence his life. I watched him apologize for difficult things and truly attempt to be better. I watched him search to know truth and make difficult decisions. I watched him change for the better. I would go more personal but not all details of his story are mine to share. 

Along with his personal conversion to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I watched my ex-husband to see what kind of a man he was. I learned that he was extremely devoted to caring for his family. I watched him reach out to them over and over again. I learned that he was strong willed and never gave up despite difficulties. I also learned that he was willing to serve as I watched him help numerous friends and strangers. I learned that he had the ability to set people at ease and help them feel happy.

We were a good compliment. I was quieter in public while he was more outgoing.  I helped strengthen his resolve to do good and provided stability while he helped me think more carefully about my beliefs. I helped him ground him just enough to keep us moving towards our mutual goals while he helped me have a little fun and enjoy life. When I made the decision to marry him, it was a good choice. He could have made a wonderful husband and father. 

The problem is that things changed. He quit doing the things that convinced me to marry him. How was I supposed to know? Maybe I should have seen the change. But, at first, they were subtle. Looking back, I can see the hints, the warnings. But even now, that's all they were: hints. We had a year long engagement. I almost broke off the engagement a few times because I was scared. Looking back, I realize that some of my fears were rational--the hints--but I couldn't figure out what was actually wrong. Especially since a lot of my fears were irrational--the fears of someone facing a very serious long term commitment. Was I really ready? Would we really make it?

I'm pleased with my decision. Marriage is a gamble. It's a gamble because it involves two people and you're only one person. You make your choices but the other person makes their own. When you get married, you gamble on whether or not the person is fully committed to that choice. If you're careful, you know your side. If you're careful, you have a pretty good idea of the other person's side. But, it's still a leap of faith in your partner. And my partner betrayed that trust.

I don't regret my choice. I was careful. I did all the things to find my answer to the best of my knowledge. And, once I made my choice and was actually married, I didn't look back. Divorce wasn't an option to me. Which is why my divorce was the most difficult and devastating decision I ever had to make. 

I divorced my husband because I loved him. When I divorced him, he was diving head first into a pool of bitterness and hate with me as the scapegoat to his unhappiness. He was emotionally and verbally abusive and it was only getting worse. I divorced him so it would stop. So he could be free from the burden he carried that only increased every time he treated me poorly. 

I also divorced him because I loved my sons. When I divorced my ex-husband, he was making poor decisions relating to Big Brother, his son, due to his feelings toward me. (Baby Brother wasn't born yet.) He was avoiding me and thus avoiding Big Brother. Big Brother was confused and missed his daddy. My ex-husband was using Big Brother in attempts to hurt me in order to control me which also scared Big Brother. I also worried about the life that Baby Brother would have in an unhappy home. A life where he might wonder if it was his fault his daddy wasn't there. I made a difficult decision. And, as I watch my sons develop a positive relationship with their father, I know I made the right one.

I wish I could say I divorced him because I loved myself. But I can't. Although I was happy with the direction my life was headed at the time, I struggled to separate myself from the lies my ex-husband constantly told me. A good part of me believed I deserved what I got. This is a battle I still fight today.

Despite not regretting my choice, my plan for finding a new husband has changed. My second husband will be my last. I learned a lot from this experience. I won't repeat this mistake. I won't put myself or my boys through this again. I'm not going to go into my plan here, it's a little too personal, but I believe that God will bless my efforts in following Him and will take care of my children.

Confession #20: I got stuck.

The point of this blog is to help me. To help me be a super mom. To help me survive my struggles and my pains as well as to share my hopes, dreams, and joys. To help me dump the extra weight somewhere so that it doesn't get dumped on my kids. Because super moms don't dump their extra baggage on their kids.

Right now, I haven't been doing that. I got scared. Scared of what everyone reading this blog would think if I was honest. Scared of the people who have hurt me in the past, the people who hurt me in the present, and the people who will inevitably hurt me in the future. Pain is a part of life. I accept that. The trouble is figuring out how to let that pain go in appropriate ways.

I got stuck because I was posting these blog posts on my Facebook page. It was good in some ways as I started because it's what I felt was needed. But, in reality, I can't be completely honest when linked to Facebook because I know those people and actively fear their comments. Fear their judgments.

That doesn't mean they're bad people. It just means that I don't trust them. Except for my mother. I trust my mother and she's my Facebook friend. But she spent 30 years growing that trust and definitely proved it the last five. And my dearest friend. She knows who she is because she's the one who was pregnant and dropped everything to come help me with my newborn when she heard about my separation. I trust her. Not as much as I trust my mother. But a lot.

The rest I don't trust because they don't love me. They may love some of the things I do or they may have loved me at some point. But they don't love me in the deeper sense that results in true sacrifice. The type of sacrifice my mother has shown me throughout her life and my friend clearly showed when she came to visit.

I don't blame people. There are so many people to choose to love and definitely people who should be priorities higher than me. There are some on that list that I wished loved me that much. There are some on that list that professed to love me that much but, in turn, betrayed the trust I chose to give them. There are some on that list that I'm sure think they love me that much. I'm sure there are also some on the list that wish they loved me that much.

I write this to relieve my heart of this burden--it's a heavy burden. I'm choosing to write it here because I feel like I'm not the only one. I imagine that there are other single parents who struggle just like I do. Who desperately wish to be loved by someone with a little more depth than their toddlers.

Parents who know that there perspective may be a little skewed at times. But it's the only perspective they have since they're alone doing the best they can.

There. Unstuck. Bravely posting my honest feelings. Which is extremely hard for me because of the emotional abuse I endured. At the hands of more than one person in my life. I don't care if you agree with my feelings. I don't care if you agree with my perspective. But I do. Because I desperately want to be loved, appreciated, and worthwhile. Yes, I doubt my worth. But, that doesn't mean I don't know my worth.

Confession #19: If I had to be single at 30, I'm glad I'm a single mom with two kids.

This post has been a month in the making. Lots of ups and downs and wonderings floating through my mind as I struggled with the chaotic balance of life with an exhausting full-time job, two energetic little boys, and trying to maintain a pleasant life. We spent most of this past month with at least one of us being sick which meant I was extra busy trying to solve the problems associated with sore throats, exhaustion, and missed work. Baby Brother is also (finally) getting some more teeth. Currently he has three teeth with one central incisor and two premolars hovering just under the surface or, in the case of one of the premolars, barely peeking out. They've been sitting like that for about three weeks now. Three weeks of poor sleep as we've cycled through trying to find the balance between consoling and helping him learn to sleep through it. Three weeks of extra irritable toddler. Of course, all of this has been on top of trying to maintain a healthy family life including daily meals, a relatively clean house, and paid bills. Oh yeah, and a job that always requires time outside of the work day. Oh and that class I'm taking so I can re-certify on time. So I can still have a job next year...

That was the negative side of things. Mixed in with all of this was the reality that we are keeping up for the most part. I was frustrated by some of the things I couldn't keep up with (a lot of which was caused by problems that will hopefully float away in the near future as our immune systems catch up and the teeth finally pop out) but really we're doing so much better than last year when I had a two year old and newborn and a huge emotional burden from being abandoned. We have food on the table consistently. The teething sleep interruptions are nothing compared to newborn eating habits. Our house has been so much tidier. We have regular outings as a family that don't require a huge sacrifice on the household chores. I get to breath occasionally as my boys decide they don't need mom for a moment and can play nicely with each other. I may have a lot on my "to do" list but I no longer have as much that has to be done at the same time. I'm able to spread the work out a little more.

Anyway, as my mind battled to focus on the good when it's so easy to notice the overwhelming side of things, I also realized that I turn 30 soon. Normally, I love birthdays. I don't mind growing older. I find it exciting. Not the body struggles that come with aging. That's not exciting. But I'm not old enough to really understand what that's like. I see life as a great and grand adventure. Birthdays mark the beginning of a new chapter and a celebration of having been born. Life is full of opportunity and I'm grateful to exist. At least, that's how I usually think of birthdays.

But this year something was bothering me. At first I couldn't figure it out. I was turning thirty. I told myself I should be excited. But I wasn't. I don't feel thirty. (Do you ever feel your age? It always seems to sneak up on me.) Then it hit me. The problem wasn't turning 30. The problem was that I'm turning 30 as a single mom with two kids. I haven't been on a date since my ex-husband. I didn't go on many dates before my ex-husband. And, I felt like a single mom most of my marriage. So it wasn't turning 30 that was bothering me. It was the fact that I feel like I've been perpetually single. And no one really likes to be single.

Especially as a mom. Being a parent is exhausting. Being a single parent is beyond exhausting because you feel like you're doing it all by yourself. Sure, there are people there to help you but not like a spouse (in a good relationship). A spouse shares your dreams, goals, and desires. You have different perspectives, ideas, and ways of doing things but ultimately (in a good relationship) you want the same thing: whatever is best for the family. What this means is that when one spouse feels like the world is ending and everything is a disaster, the other spouse steps in with a different, reassuring perspective. Sometimes both spouses have a challenge where both of them feel like the world is ending. But in a good relationship, they at least get to share the burden and understanding of that burden with each other. It's so hard to understand what you haven't been through.

As a single parent, you feel the weight of the family on your shoulders. There is no other person who steps in and helps make your family function. It's you. And it's hard. More than just the hard of trying to make it to places on time and keep things functioning. It's hard because of the weight of wondering if you're doing enough, good enough, or how your mistakes will affect the kids you love. And having no one to consistently, regularly step in and reassure you that you are. Sure, people outside say things like "You're a wonderful mom" but they weren't there to see you make mistake after mistake after mistake.

As a single parent, you also wonder how you ended up as a single parent. I think it's pretty rare for someone to plan to be a single parent. Then, at least in my case, is the wondering why you weren't good enough for your spouse. Or all the other potential spouses out there. (Yes, it can be easy to get bogged down with the negative perspectives. It's easy enough for all the married women in the world to tell me how amazing I am. But, they aren't the single guys. Who apparently have a different perspective; one where I'm not worth the risk.) And, it seems harder to be single with two kids because you really don't interact much with single people your age. Plenty of married people. But you don't meet very many single people in our circles. Which makes it easy to wonder how all the people around you ended up happily married.

So I'm turning 30. And I'm a single mom. It isn't where I expected to be. But am I okay with where I am? Am I okay with my burdens? Could I be content with my current adventure? It's been a little wilder ride than I was expecting. Do I still like roller coasters?

Life would be so much easier to be single at 30 with no kids. No one to interrupt my sleep. Lots of time to catch up my grading, go to movies and socialize without any time constraints, and a lot more money for other things. Basically, being able to do whatever I want whenever I want without the burden of really worrying about anyone else.

I thought about it. And prayed about it. And reflected. I reflected on my life and considered other paths I could have taken. And, I decided.

If I have to be single at 30, I'm glad I have two kids. They really are the best thing to ever happen to me. I wouldn't trade them for anything. The enrich my lives in more ways than I could ever imagine. I'm such a better person because of them. They are so good to me. They encourage me to be my best self and help me to see myself through clear eyes.

Because of them, I'm more productive and yet more relaxed. Instead of coming home from an exhausting day and lounging around on the couch idling away my time watching TV, I'm encouraged to include some art (let's paint pumpkins!), music (impromptu dance parties) , and outdoor activities (most often the park) in my day. They encourage me to explore my talents ("Sing me a song on your... [points to my flute]") and they provide an opportunity to practice selflessness (What else do you call meeting their never ending needs?) daily. Ultimately, because of them, I'm more focused on the things that truly lead to happiness rather than wallowing away wishing my life was more like movies or books or someone else's life. When I was single without kids, it was a lot harder to wisely choose these things. Now I usually have to consciously choose not to accept them.

I'll take the teething because it means cuddling, three-toothed grins, and soft pats on the back. I'll take the temper tantrums because they mean someone feels safe and trusts me enough to help them as they make difficult decisions. I'll take almost breaking a leg on the balloons leftover from a three-year-old's birthday party because they mean giggles, games of "catch", and shouts of "Mama! Please play with me!" I'll take the exhaustion because it means I'm truly learning what it means to live.

At times I struggle with being single because it means being alone in a weighty burden. But I'm never really alone. I'm glad my children don't really share my burden. It means that I'm being well taken care of by God, by family, and by friends who consistently reach out to remind me they're there for me when I need them. Yes, the burden of where my family ends up is my burden. Mine because I get to choose who shares it with me. Because I get to choose who I trust with the welfare of two children who are more precious to me than anything else. So, a special thanks to all those who have reached out and helped my family thrive!

Now it's time to figure out how to celebrate my wonderful day. Actually, I've almost already planned it. I'm going to keep it a secret though. It's not how I expected to celebrate my birthday at 30. But just as wonderful. Because I'll be celebrating with my best little buddies. We're going to have some fun spoiling mom a little.