I fell in love, did not know at the time, that he was a hater of all women. This man loves me, this man does not trust me. This man thinks my mind is terrific but believes I am manipulating at every turn. This man can appreciate my female body but thinks I am out to get him. I have married a women hater. He has spent his life being used, lied to, manipulated and abused by all women in his life. Walked all over, unappreciated and under recognized in all aspects, by the women who mean most to him…his sister, his mother, his grandmother. Now as the wife of this man, I am paying for the debt of many others. I could not be more trustworthy, more honest, more truthful in my intentions, my thoughts or my actions but it all falls short in comparison to what he believes, what he needs, what he has created with his hate for women. He loves me but overall he is a women hater…
Ignorance is bless but knowledge is power. Unfortunately I am not ignorant, yet very knowledgeable. How do I achieve bliss, how do I release some power. With power comes responsibility, with ignorance comes regret. As much as I would love to be ignorant, my past has given me too much power, too much knowledge. Trust comes from where, the ignorance of what could, would, or did happen. Or does trust come from the knowledge that you can trust honestly even with the knowledge of the past. I choose knowledge over ignorance. Trust through knowledge not through ignorance.
Source: Breezy as Monica
Some people think the generational difference in my marriage may be a challenge. While other’s might think that race may be a factor in my marriage. Or some may believe our economic family backgrounds could be an obstacle in my marriage. But none of these issues are hard for me, or even a thought for me or my husband. I have fun when he tells me I have stuff in common with his mother, since I am older than him, I laugh, I don’t take offense. I don’t even think of being in an interracial marriage, I truly don’t see the color, never have and never will. Having my husband come from a background where poverty, abuse and life struggles are commonplace versus my middle class upbringing, offers us a different point of view of each and of live in general. But when I am married to a man who is broken, who is deep down insecure, who doesn’t know how to overcome life obstacles because of his insufficient emotional development.
I have stayed through cheating, lying, drinking, and verbal abuse, not because I am weak but because I am strong. I am stronger than he is, I have a healthy emotional foundation that does not shake easily. My biggest fault may be that I am unconditionally loyal. My strength within is something I have had to pull on in order to be there for a man that is not strong, he is broken.
For those who love a broken person, you will understand. From the outside, we look weak, we look like we are being walked over or taken advantage of but on the inside, I know this man holds onto me for salvation. He has messed up, he has hurt me, he has lost my trust. I still continue to be his light, his strength, his saving grace. This is loving a broken man.
Source: Picking up the pieces
I am open, I am loving, I am a lover of children…all children, they don’t have to be mine in order for me to love them. I have worked with kids my entire life and they are just drawn to me, not sure why, but they are as I am to them. But when now faced with being a step mom, it’s the first time that love is harder to attain. Most would think my love comes hard because my stepson is a result of an affair, but I know differently. My love was present when he was an infant, when the relationship was pure and undisturbed. I love this child, affair or not, I love him.
As time went on, even through the struggles of watching my husband be a new dad to an infant that was not ours together by birth, my struggles came from a different place. I was raising kind children, sweet kids, empathic young people, but then there was my stepson. His upbringing was a complete opposite of what I had in my household. I was exposing my children to habits, characteristics and lifestyle features that I simply did not display in my household. This was hard for me. Most blended families deal with a degree of this, regarding disciplinary actions, etc. But this was on a core level, the core of who I was raising my children to be, definitely did not line up with my stepson’s upbringing. This was my own personal challenge. One that I will struggle with for many years to come, unfortunately.
Source: This Crazy Thing Called Love
So now, my transgender child has been living like a girl in every capacity for five years. Long hair, pierced ears, all girl clothes…day and night, purse and accessories to a tee. After relocating from my divorce, and remarrying, we were living in a different part of town. No one knew that I originally had two girls, two boys…they only know about my three girls, and now two sons plus my stepson. Once I had the experience to share our journey in a book called, “Girl Nutz”, I had some wonderful opportunities to discuss having a transgender child. But sitting my daughter down to discuss these opportunities and how she felt about them, she simply said, “I just want to live like a girl”. Not a transgender girl, just a girl. It was all she needed to say. It was a done deal, we lived like a girl. My book could be put on hold and promoted under a less identifiable promotion process. Needless to say, it was what my daughter wanted, just to be a “normal” girl. This is not something I took lightly. My daughter has always been proud of who she is, transgender or not, she is confident and secure and so healthy but she wanted to be recognized for being a girl, 100% only girl. So we did.