The messy truths we shouldn’t share......

Facebook memories are a bitch, amarite???? Either super fond memories or post that make you want to go back and punch yourself in the face. I was reading over a typical long rant with an all-to-familiar underlying feeling of social media dread. I slowly started accepting that not sharing my truths outright was making me look and feel like a ranting loon. I understand airing these truths may piss some people off. There are two sides to every story..this is mine. 

Both my parents had very traumatic childhoods. They both were very poor, moving around, unprotected and heavily taken advantage of. That generation didn’t have information at their fingertips. Mental health resources were stigmatized. They were forced to live with their trauma. Despite the deep seeded issues these life traumas manifested into, I love both my parents deeply. 

 

Growing up, especially after my mom left, I became the “woman of the house” and no longer had an identity. My success and future just wasn’t a thing, unless I was being criticized for it. I was an extension of the family. There to help and serve the boys/men. I hate saying these truths bc I love my father. People are complex, but I was spit on more times than I could ever count, forced to clean after others (like gross shit, dehumanizing shit), take care of others responsibilities, not acknowledge my personal needs. This lasted well into adulthood. It was all I knew. And I, like most traumatized people, was scared of anything different. 

Then one day I met Bryan. Bryan is everything that is stable, normal, not tolerant of dysfunction but he was dealing with heavy issues of his own. His mother (who had always protected him) had recently passed and he had just broken up with his children’s mother. Shortly after we announced we were dating, the children’s mother went away to another state for her own personal reasons and we were now engaged in a custody battle with the grandmother. Bryan’s an amazing father so it should be a no brainer, but the grandmother was high up in CPS in the ass backwards Calvert County. He hasn’t seen his children in 7 years. To talk about this is to “out” or offend several wealthy powerful people...so we’re left stuck. 

Because of all this and also a very traumatic situation with the Calvert County police dept, we were forced to leave Calvert. You can’t be a young independent family on the wrong side of the right people, let’s say. The local government and institutions there are FUCKED!! It is the epitome of  “good ol boy”, who you know, rich wealthy self serving white people with too much power. 

There are no words in the English language to be able to explain all this- the messy truth, the effects of a very corrupt society and local government- to our children. Not to mention we had to move just to feel safe defending ourselves or telling our story. Bryan, obviously walks around like he is missing pieces of himself...he is. We were def shunned, kicked out, looked down upon and even people who knew the truth, stopped fucking with us bc it was easier. But in all this mess, we rebuilt our own reality and it’s super solid, exactly what how we want it to be. My father has since passed, my mother moved in with me. I hope one day we are a whole happy family. The kids come back, family mends old wounds, but if there is one thing I am CERTAIN of is life gives us what we need. As clique as it sounds, it all happens for a reason.