Because of you

This was me – still could be in a lot of ways.



I struggle every day not to always take the safe side, to dare, to try, to put myself out there and immerse myself in this life rather than sitting back and watching safely from the sidelines.

There was a time in my life that I really didn’t have my own identity. I was “Mrs. Mike”, the boys’ mom, a sister and daughter…but Karen was nowhere to be found. I don’t mean that those other identities aren’t part of me – they are an incredibly important and vital part of me – they just aren’t the whole of me. I think everyone struggles with this in some ways. I frankly don’t know a Mom who is being honest with herself who won’t say that at least occasionally she has felt like she “lost” herself. The difference is that I wanted it that way. If people only knew me as an extension of my husband or kids then they would not get a chance to figure out that I wasn’t really worth knowing.

Then the bottom dropped out and Mike and I separated. While I don’t recommend the method to everyone, I have to tell you that suddenly finding yourself flat on your ass and alone with 3 kids with no idea of who the hell you are or what you want will go a long way toward scaring the shit out of, forcing, helping one to find ones self.

Funny enough though, there was a self to find. It was a frightened self, alone and naked and wanting to hide, but with just enough self preservation left to get mad, take a look around and decide “Fuck it – I am NOT going down like this!” I’ve made it a priority every day since then to nurture that self and while it’s not always easy and there are days that I still really would like to hide, I’ve pretty much found someone that I can love and that’s something I don’t remember feeling before.

I look at my 3yo daughter and see that she is so completely in love with herself. She has yet to learn to be ashamed or embarrassed. She does not self-edit and while she is learning empathy and to consider others people’s needs, she does not automatically value others needs as greater than her own. I see pictures of myself at that age and can see that same love of self in my own eyes. What beat it out of me and why did it take so long to find it again?

The answer is unfortunately in the question – it was beat out of me. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it was beat into me until it was hidden under too many layers of bruises, belt marks, black eyes, and scars on my heart from every bitter insult screamed at me from the depths of their pain. Buried under years of watching as they hurt each other physically and emotionally and living in dread of the certainty that they would eventually turn it towards my sisters and I. Buried under the guilt of not being able to protect my sisters from it and the shame of knowing that sometimes I was relieved that it was them and not me. Buried with my own anger…

See, the real me that loved herself so unconditionally? Not only did she learn that she would be punished for being herself, but she was ANGRY! She hated what was going on and that anger and that hate was simply too ugly – too much like what she saw in the people who were hurting her – it made HER just like THEM. So it needed to be buried deep where no one would ever find it.

Now I’ve taken that little girl back into my heart. I’ve let her know that it’s OK to be angry and to hate what happened, but that at the same time it was OK to try to see THEM a little more clearly and forgive them for acting on their own anger and pain.

Mike and I were able to forgive each other and repair and recommit to our marriage and I am now the mother of four rather than three. I am thrilled to still be “Mrs. Mike” and am very proudly “_____’s Mom” but at the same time I am also that little girl who loves herself so very much. The three of us join hands, gather together all of our other selves, and dance this dance with joy and abandon – more determined than ever to live the hell out of this life we’ve been given. I still get scared, I still get angry, and I still get hurt – but I’ll be damned if I’m going to hide from it anymore. I’m going to face it and work my way through it because on the other side? On the other side there is joy and love and forgiveness like I’ve never allowed myself to feel before and I want that – I deserve that!

While it may have been “Because of them” that I spent so much time hiding from myself, it is also because of them that I am here and there were many moments and glimpses of love and happiness that co-existed with the anger and pain. They didn’t enter this world, begin their marriage, or decide to have children with the intention of hurting each other or us. They were doing the same thing we all do, trying to create the happiest life that they could and they got lost along the way. They are both gone now, but my most fervent hope for them is that wherever they are they are, they have been able to shed the anger and pain and are once again enjoying the love and happiness so evident in their young eyes and that they both so richly deserve…

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Slipping Through My Fingers

Well, this one was a gimme…my oldest is graduating from high school this spring and we are in the midst of college application interviews, school visits, and acceptance letters. Did you know that it’s considered bad form to try to “lose” applications to schools that you feel are too far away? AND that surreptitiously signing on to your son’s Common App account and deselecting those same schools is also frowned upon – WTF!?! Not only that, they will then punish you by accepting said son and then forcing you to fill out a FAFSA form so that you can afford their tuition. I always love to spend four hours filling out forms only to have some government agency determine that, “Yep, you are officially poor and need help paying for college!” I didn’t know whether to celebrate or go hide in a corner somewhere.

As amusing as that all is, the issue here is that I’m of two hearts about this. I’m so freaking proud of this kid and watching him become the young man that he is becoming never fails to fascinate and enthrall me. At the same time? I’m just not ready! I look at him and cannot help seeing the little boy with the cutest bowl cut in his Disney pullover headed to nursery school. The past 17 years have been so full and yet I find myself wistful for the other things I would have like to have done with him. It’s almost as if I can see the time running out and the more I try to capture it the quicker it slips through my fingers. Like the song, I sometimes wish that I could freeze a moment in time. The thing is, if I did, then I would miss out on witnessing his transformation into the most amazing adult and I’m just not willing to give up that wonder and awe.

So how do I reconcile this? I guess the answer will be to somehow cherish rather than try to hold onto every moment, to support him as he ventures out into the world, and to watch in confusion as somehow my breaking heart expands rather than shatters and manages to envelope him no matter how far way he is…and then turn around, look at the other three (15,9+3) and realize that I’d probably better buy stock in the closest liquor store!

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