Slight regressions or, quick reflections

I've always felt as though my child and I were never really important to you. 

While I was pregnant, you were not present. You spent time on you tube, creating uplifting videos for other fat women instead of sharing time with me. Instead of tending to our needs and strengthening our relationship. 

After our child was born, you spent more time away from us than with us. I literally asked for you, you ignored me, spent time with other women. Lied to me about it. 

Our child comes to you, you go to work. You have a babysitter watch her while you are working but spend your days off with a woman you you began dating months ago. Why is my child not worth your time?

Then, I ask a favor of you and you tell me, you need to establish boundaries, as though I was trying to come on to you. As though that is something that I've done. The funny thing is, did you establish boundaries with those women you cheated on me with?  Did you tell them you had a woman and child that you "loved more than anything in the world"? 

Why were we always last in your life? Why were we never worthy of your time? Why were other people more important than us? Why does this woman take more precedence in your life than your child? 

I don't understand these things. 

I am admittedly having a difficult time loving and expressing love towards someone who I still remember saying and doing such cruel things to me. 

As I move through healing, I try my best to forgive. I try my best to understand, move past and most importantly, love. Love of my self keeps me from showcasing affections of any sort to you. It is self preservation that keeps me from moving in that direction. I forgive but I remember. Those memories are what surfaces when I see your face, hear your voice. The confusion about the past comes up again. I'm not sure why, I would prefer it not but in short, I just don't trust you. I don't trust you to be the father you said you would be because you've proven to me over and over that you wouldn't be. I don't trust you to speak to you because if I say something to you, you throw it back at me when you get the chance. I don't trust you enough to let my guard down because you'll curse me out over things I don't even understand if you feel like it. All of this manifests when I see you, when I hear your voice. The need to hide myself, hide my smile or my thoughts. The need to keep me and my emotions hidden from you. You will use my words as ammunition against me. You will break my heart again and again with your cruel words. And so, I give you nothing. I do not allow you in. I keep my heart, no kindness, my love hidden from you. 

Three women in my office are pregnant. Today, as we sat around speaking about pregnancy, symptoms, weird things our bodies do while with child, each of them spoke about something sweet or kind their husbands do or have done for them while being pregnant. I was confronted with the fact that I did not have this during my pregnancy, and it hurt somewhat. I sat in silence listening but, I admittedly was somewhat hurt, and a tad bit jealous. My pregnancy was mostly spent alone, then later, with my mom. Though I planned my pregnancy with someone who said they wanted a child and a family, my requests for love and companionship from this person were met with, "go to your family and friends", "I'll be around more in a few months", "stop being a baby", "I thought you were supposed to be a strong black woman".

And it hurt. Just a little. Not enough to take me off my path. Not enough to shake my faith or put me back in a dark place. But just enough to make me remember. Just enough to make me cry a bit. Sadly, these are the things that still haunt me. These are the things that creep in the back of my mind. These are the things I don't understand. 

I feel content, at peace. In a place of happiness. This week, I stood up for myself. I clearly stated what was acceptable to me, what I would and would not tolerate. I set a precedent for myself that I am sure to follow. 

I am growing, into myself, learning more intimately who I am, who I choose to be.