I wrote this post over a year ago but it feels like it could have been written yesterday. I have struggled with publishing it ever since I wrote it. This is perhaps one of the biggest things impacting my life right now. And it has been weighing on me heavily. It weighs on me on a daily basis. I don’t really talk about what is going on. I try but I just can’t articulate everything I feel. It’s something I just deal with. Only, now, it is getting too hard to deal with it. I need to put this out there. I need to start to heal. I see now that things will never be the way they were. I am starting to understand that the way things were was never the way I saw it. And in order to accept the way things are meant to be, I have to start letting go.
And it all starts with this post.
Once upon a time, I made a mistake. I assumed my children could be loved by someone else just as they are loved by me. I made this assumption because I was able to love a child that was not my own as if they were mine. I went out of my way to be inclusive and fair and assumed that would be extended to my boys as well. I made this assumption because I believed my children were important to people other than myself. I made this assumption because I believed that others saw how special, dynamic and fun my boys are and they appreciated this just as I did.
I shouldn’t have made this assumption.
It has become obvious that loving my children is not something they wanted to do. In fact, my children are not even on their radar most of the time. My children are now being ignored and pushed aside in favour of others. There is time for text messages, phone calls, outings and visits but just not with my children; with everyone else but just not my boys. Outings are discussed in front of my boys and then they are excluded from attending. Invitations are not even extended. They just hear about an event and know they are not welcome to join. It’s as though they don’t even exist. They are an afterthought or a pity phone call when the reminders of their existence become too much or there is fear of repercussion for ignoring them for too long.
And now my kids are hurting because they assumed the same things I did and can’t understand why things are not the way they were. They remember when they were included and don’t understand why they are being excluded now. They are too young to fully grasp just what is going on, but they do feel the hurt.
I should have realized sooner the type of person I was putting a lot of faith into and I should have realized sooner just how incorrect my assumptions were. I should have realized that they were all about spending time with my boys because it was convenient for them. I covered everything. I was responsible for everything. Now that they don’t need me, they don’t need my boys and they have no issues forgetting my boys exist.
I have been dealing with a lot of pain lately, both theirs and mine. I have been trying to show my boys just how special they are, just how loved they are. I spend a lot of time distracting them. Having them focus their attention on other things so they don’t have the time to feel the hurt. And for the most part, it is working. The hurt isn’t there as often but there are times when it does show up. Then I have to spend nights explaining just why they weren’t invited to do the fun things or why visits are nonexistent. I hate those conversations because I know we wouldn’t be having them if I hadn’t made the assumptions I made. I was the one that put my faith into the wrong person and now my boys are suffering for it.
I will never do that again.