THE VOID

Void (adj.) – not valid or legally binding; completely empty.

Lately, the parental consumption has rattled me to my core.  Especially as it relates to my son. Actually, it is affecting every aspect of my life if I’m being 100% honest. I’ve spent several years contemplating my circumstance, but with little resolve as to how to best maneuver it for the next 14 years of my son’s life. 

The truth of the matter is this:  I detest my son’s biological father. 

I’ve been reluctant about writing about this for numerous reasons.  Mainly because I believe some things should remain private.  What I’ve grown to realize is that my privacy has also been an act of observation when I am questioned about my son’s biological father.  It’s really not that private at all, and people can lead themselves to the accurate conclusions.  What I’ve also realized about myself is that unless I’m writing, I’m not healing.  And if I’m not healing, I’m not growing.  And without growth there is no movement forward with my life.  And without movement forward, I feel like I’m suffocating which isn’t good for anyone around me.  Through many private conversations with close friends, family, therapists, and those who are in the same ship as I am (i.e. navigating parenting without an active co-parent post-divorce) I’ve found that I’m not far off base in my thought processes as to what angers me, why it angers me, and the things I should be doing to work through it. 

The other truth of the matter is this:  I don’t know how to best move forward from the anger I carry for my son.

I’ve been fortunate to be surrounded by people who love my son as if he is a part of their family.  I don’t worry about the life I am building around him and the people I introduce to his life because they are all wonderful people.  They serve a purpose in his life and enrich his life.  And especially the past year and a half with The Bearded Hippie.  While my relationship with The Beard has come with its own set of issues, it has opened the flood gate for my son as to what having a father and active parent in his life truly means.  He’s present.  He does the hard work.  He provides the foundation.  He gives emotional support.  He pushes him to be better.  He offers his unconditional love.  He is teaching him to grow into a self-respecting, kind person through action:  what it means to be a man, father, partner, and friend.  Every opportunity he has to offer guidance or connectivity with my son, he embraces without question.  It’s exactly the dynamic I had hoped my ex-husband would offer his own flesh and blood.  It is by far the greatest gift I could have received in this life to know someone capable and willing to offer himself to my son.  It’s also come with a host of fury I never would have anticipated. 

Yes.  My own personal, self-inflicted rage.  And here is why…

The bar on fatherhood was set high from the time I was born.  I am incredibly blessed with a loving father.  A man of high integrity and work-ethic.  A man with an impenetrable character.  A man I watched “suck it up” in the hardest of times and always put his family first, regardless of the downside implication it would have on him and his own needs/wants.  The most selfless human being I’ve ever been privileged enough to know in this life.  He is and will always be the rock and foundation on how I operate and drive my own life.  He instilled in me what it means to be loyal, live by my word, and the power of honoring your commitments.  I haven’t always gotten these qualities as right as my father would have liked, but every year I grow I aim higher to be the kind of person my father has been to me.  And I do believe he would tell anyone he’s proud of me, too.    

As a mother, I know I am doing everything possible to ensure my son’s life is the highest priority.  I am present, even when I feel like my personality, insecurities, and inadequacies can’t support it—I push through because of the affects it has on my son.  I see joy in my presence and engagement with him.  He gains stability through my actions and choices.  He is a happy, spirited child because of the sacrifices I make to ensure he can be happy and spirited and feel safe.  At times my relationship with my son is taxing:  he’s very intelligent, hard-headed, and independent.  (Yes, he comes by it honest through watching me in my own life).  But as I’ve considered what watching my father did for me when I was growing up, I always keep his examples front of mind because I believe that as long as my son is watching me, he, too, will grow into a person he can be proud of.  While I am proud of the paths I’ve taken in life and the moral compass by which I choose to live, I know that I can be proud of those things BECAUSE of my father.    

I can’t and won’t make that statement for my son. 

For all of the positives I can identify in my life and my relationships with those around me, the one area in which I continue to struggle is finding a way to navigate a selfish, manipulative, narcissistic existence with someone who I chose to procreate with.  Yes, I chose my son’s biological father.  I continued to choose him even when I knew it was toxic to my well-being.  I chose to believe he was capable of being a father.  I chose to believe he would change.  And worst of all, I chose to believe his lies of how he was serving as a “father” to his son and his daughter.  And to a degree, until present day, I have chosen to believe he will do what he says he will do and one day return to amend his poor choice to abandon BOTH of his children.    

Except he’s not.  He won’t.  He’s incapable.  And unless he CHOOSES to change, he will always be absent in every way possible.  Except financially—I’ll give him the “required” credit for that part.  But even that comes with an argument as to how he’s only going to do what he’s required to do (even though a deviation was made at the time of divorce), or I’m responsible for everything outside of our son’s “regularly scheduled deposits” twice a month.  Believe me:  I’ve heard it all relative to money.  And one would think that if you want to wear the crown of father, you would at least do the one thing you are capable of doing and send more than the required minimum to ensure your son is able to live his best life.  But reality is that would mean additional sacrifice.  And a narcissist is only capable of serving themselves.    

However, the real, non-bitter truth is that no amount of money will ever be good enough for what my son will deal with later in life as a result of his biological father’s absence.  His intermittent parenting.  His excuses as to why he can’t call regularly.  Why he can’t come visit regularly.  Why overseas compensation is more important than building a life with him.  Why he can’t be present at tee ball games or other activities.  Why he never drops him off at school or picks him up.  Why he doesn’t get to visit him every other weekend like other kids who are in a separated parent lifestyle.  Why he doesn’t know his favorite things.  Why he doesn’t know what scares him.  Why he doesn’t understand his feelings.  Why the only reason he knows anything at all about him is because his mommy tells him. 

The list is endless.  And my deepest wish is one day he quits paying me for his son’s benefit.  Because then, and only then, do I have a chance to save my son from him.  For all of the negative publicity women receive about being money-hungry, soul-sucking individuals when going through a divorce with children, I am proud to own that I was not and will never be one of them.  Because it isn’t about the money when you’re in the shoes I am walking in when raising a child 336 days per year so your son’s biological father can meet his tax-exemption for tax-free income.  One could argue that he’s at least paying me, and that’s more than what some mothers receive.  Yes, that is a true statement.  I’m lucky he remembers his son twice a month so his passport can’t be frozen to reenter the country on the 15 days a year he decides to grace his son with his presence (insert eye roll). 

But I’m here to offer this to the those who feel this is enough:  it is and will never be enough when you’ve had examples in your life and your own son’s life who defy monetary contribution.  The love my son feels from my father and his father-figures is something on which a monetary value could never be assigned.  They do things that aren’t asked or required.  They offer a part of themselves in exchange for my son’s smile, his happiness, and his growth as a human being.  They are, without question, the best gifts my son could receive.  I only hope that my contributions as my son’s mother are enough and the contributions of the generous souls around him are enough to help him navigate his imminent “daddy issues” he will have as an adult.  Because the certainty is there is nothing more I can do to fill the void my son will one day realize when it comes to his biological father.  I can only hope that the tools he is receiving allow him to navigate the void and grow up with the strength that he is not a failure for his father abandoning him physically and emotionally. 

This is the burden I carry—my son’s burden.  It’s the hardest and most challenging position I’ve ever faced.  No amount of money, time, or energy to remain positive eases the ache I feel for my son.  And while I realize it’s not my burden to carry, knowing the person I love more than my own life has to face this one day is harrowing.  No amount of time could have prepared me for the burning rage I would feel every day I wake up and realize it over and over again.  And while some tell me I look at it all wrong, unless you’ve walked in the shoes of this life it’s hard to render an opinion on how to best face it.  Some days I’m fine.  I can remove myself from the realization and march forward knowing I’m confident and my son is happy and healthy and I am the sole-contributor of that.  Yes, I get all of it with my son and I wouldn’t change a thing.  Other days, I am incited with so much wrath for the façade his biological father paints of how he’s a budding example of being a father that I begin to doubt my own abilities as his mother.    

Actions speak louder than words.  His biological father is a wordsmith.  And a damn good one.  A salesman to the end.  The longer he’s gone the more I see though his empty words, as does everyone who knows him.  And maybe time is the only way I have to heal and learn to let go of the anger.  Rarely do I ever have to say anything about him for others to see his shortcomings and failures in the one job he has the ability to control.  His actions have never and nor will they ever matter because frankly, my son deserves more.  Every child deserves active parents; otherwise you’re nothing more than a womb or sperm donor to a child. 

So, if you’ve read this far, this my reflection to consider:

Children don’t choose their parents.  Parenting is an active choice:  the good, the bad, the painful, the ugly, the beauty, the sacrifices, and all of the feels.  In honor of those who are real parents, my deepest respects offered and always remember you’re enough.  There is no one size fits all, and there is no such thing as perfect.  Fail every day.  Let your children learn about your strengths as well as your weaknesses—it builds character.  They know you love them, so keep choosing tomorrow even when you feel like you can’t make it to tomorrow.  They will all grow up with their own issues regardless of what you do.  But always lead with love and character—time will take care of the rest. 

- BWT

“Absence and death are the same - only that in death there is no suffering.”

— Theodore Roosevelt

THE BOUNDARY

Boundary (n.) – something that indicates bounds or limits; a limiting or bounding line.

We all have them (and some people are more aware of their own than others).  Work, life, love, emotional, mental, and physical demands help shape them.  They also exist for a reason, whether we recognize the event(s) that help shape them in midst of the lesson.  Life experiences.  Circumstances.  Physical, emotional, and mental pain.  Geographical.  Childhood.  There are all sorts of things that lead to the establishment of boundaries.  Most often they are realized in hindsight, however. 

I have a few and after the past decade I’ve realized that some of mine were created from childhood experiences and some as a result of my own personal experiences and choices that were hard lessons learned.  Some people refer to them as deal-breakers.  Some prefer the term non-negotiable items.  Whatever your definition, it begs the question of how often you’ve chosen to defy a personal boundary even when you know something to be “off” or wrong for you.  How soon are you able to recognize the action when it’s presented in order to hedge any future heartache or risk compromising a part of yourself?

Personal boundaries, in my humble opinion, are incredibly important.  No one volunteers to be a doormat; you just become one if you don’t establish appropriate boundaries.  Having personal guidelines, rules, or limits (whatever you may call them) gives people an opportunity to understand how to behave toward you and affords an opportunity to those who choose to cross a boundary an understanding of what happens when a threshold is passed.  There are always consequences to every action; nothing is exempt.  Having them also helps create a relationship between two individuals that is mutually respectful, supportive, and loving.  It shows care—both self-care and care for another human being.  It’s healthy.  Being a doormat, peacekeeper, or people-pleaser is not.    

It’s easier in certain social scenarios to observe the rules of engagement, too.  Work, for example, is easier in many ways because I understand the individuals who work for me and their limits (as well as them learning mine).  It’s removed of emotion in many ways, too.  (Based on my previous post, this works well for me because I’m not emotionally driven).  While I care about my employees, I recognize the importance of establishing parameters with them.  I’m able to identify their boundaries, work to respect them, and communicate when they are crossed without emotion taking a front-seat.  It’s rarely personal in a work setting as well.  Consider an environment that is customer-centric.  One of my professional boundaries is when someone actively ignores or fails to recognize an expectation I have set for them, which is always centric to the team’s needs and providing a customer-focused setting.  I don’t single people out when it comes to serving the public; it’s not personal.  The boundaries I establish in the workplace ensures that the people we are here to serve are treated well, with respect, and with value. 

I’ve also been subjected to a personal boundary being crossed in my professional life a time or two (#metoo) as well.  I remember when I was working as a Private Banker I had a client misunderstand the rules of engagement in our working-relationship.  Following a dinner with Executive Leadership he took it upon himself to find his way to my car after the dinner meeting ended.  I went to use the restroom before leaving the restaurant and found myself walking toward my car with my client leaning up against my car door.  He attempted to proposition me, stating I would stand to benefit if I conceded to giving him what he wanted from me.  I was stunned.  This was the first time it ever happened to me that someone misunderstood my relationship with them of the opposite sex.  I was appalled.  This man was also my father’s age.  He was married.  He had two children.  Two GROWN children who were close in age to me!  What was he thinking??? 

I remember getting in my car after offering him a few choice words wondering what had possessed this man to think that a 30-year old woman would engage in a sexual relationship in order to better her career.  Rather than be a victim and blame myself for what had happened, I reflected on the notion that it is often times in the nature of people to push a limit to see how far they can get.  Did anything happen to me?  No.  Would I have allowed it to get a leg up in my career?  Never.  I did nothing wrong or provide him with a path that afforded him the right to cross the line…but he chose to cross the line.  My only job in that moment was to tell him he crossed the line.  And I’ll never forget this being the moment that changed the course of how I choose to do business with people in my career field. 

Prior to this incident happening, I never established a basis of how I like to work, what I will do, what I can do, what I won’t do, and how I will do something for a client.  This moment was good for me in the sense that if I communicated my rules, then there would be no question on how to approach doing business with me.  This moment changed the course of my life in more ways than one.  It gave me the platform to offer people an understanding that I am human; not a miracle-worker or an outlet to leverage for personal favors.  It also challenged me to think deeper into other areas of my life—what was acceptable, what was unacceptable.  Things that often felt wrong or uncomfortable were often overlooked in my personal life and I had never really considered why until this moment happened.  Where else had I been compromising parts of myself?  Where was I allowing my lack of boundaries effect my happiness? 

It marked the beginning of my awareness of myself to be quite fair.  Prior to this, I had always been a people-pleaser, often ignoring my intuition in order to keep the peace and do what made others happy in lieu of my personal feelings, wants, or needs.  It has taken many years to perfect them.  And they will forever be a work in progress because as I grow and evolve, so will my personal policies.  Over the past three years, respectively, this is what I have determined works best for me:

1. Time to reflect – it is incredibly important to me that I have time to reflect.  My brain requires it.  Life moves so quickly and I need time to myself to catch up.  I give my undivided attention to the things and people that matter the most.  I’m also an introvert, so my energy depletes pretty quickly (especially give my profession).  I love my job and I love helping people and participating in things…but I require time to refuel.  And often.  I enjoy writing, I miss working out (need to get back at it...), I love being alone in my house to do whatever I want to do—quite frankly, it doesn’t matter what the action is other than I have a pocket of time each day to recharge.  I’m a nicer human and better for others when this happens.  It doesn't mean I don't care; it means I need to be the best person possible for everyone else.  Sometimes I travel alone.  Sometimes I write.  Sometimes I retreat into a book. 

2. Independence – another critical measure.  I will never relinquish control over who I am and things I enjoy.  I like to have a plan A, B, and C with many things.  I don’t need someone to save me.  I don’t require someone else to be happy.  Do I enjoy having someone to lean on or help me from time-to-time?  Absolutely.  Do I enjoy spending time with people one-on-one?  Immensely.  But are these things necessary to my happiness?  No.  I used to joke with my ex-husband about this:  need versus want.  I always used to tell him I never needed him; that I wanted him.  And when I quit wanting him, he’d be gone.  Some tell me this was harsh, but it was the truth.  He always appreciated me for being able to handle my business; he never challenged his trust in me with my need to remain independent either.  One thing that is critical to any romantic relationship I find myself in is that I don’t want there to be a need to explain ourselves to the other ALL of the time; we just understand one another because it’s the right fit.  Even if we don’t like the position the other states, we still respect it and understand it and move forward.  The harsh truth that I will die by is that it is not our job to make someone else happy or fix someone's issues or insecurities; our job is to enhance someone's life for the better and accept them for where they are on their path in life and understand that path is forever-evolving and aim to grow together.

3. Self-care - this plays in to personal happiness.  If you aren't happy with yourself, how can you possibly show up or be present for someone else?  If you are constantly trading one vice for another, replacing one person with another, or moving from this life to the next without much thought, you aren't happy with something inside of yourself.  It's time to stop where you are and reflect.  Make changes if you find yourself gripping toward unhealthy choices.  Acknowledge your own bullshit.  This is one of the hardest things to do, but it's imperative for the betterment of yourself.  This is quite possibly the most important thing to me in dealing with anyone.  If you aren't proactively taking steps to better yourself, call yourself out for your shortfalls, or stepping forward to better your life you are missing the boat and you will sink every single time.  I've been guilty of this so many times in the course of my 37 years on this earth and three years ago I quit. I quit living for everyone else and turned the finger on myself.  You will never again find me blaming someone else for my own bullshit.  Am I perfect?  Hell no.  Do I slide periodically and do things that aren't healthy?  Of course.  I'm human...just like everyone else.  But since my mother died, I have made it a point to live steadfast to this rule of letting things go when it compromises a boundary...even if it's painful as hell.  And the hard and fast truth to someone compromising your boundaries?  They fail to respect your position.  Just let that digest for a moment...if people genuinely care, they will acknowledge when this happens and move quickly to correct it.  If they don't?  They never respected it from the beginning. 

4. Accountability - also ties in to my previous two boundaries.  If you fail to acknowledge when something is wrong, how can you possibly be living your best life?  Ignorance is not bliss.  It's ignorant.  I mess up daily.  It's hard to acknowledge it, yes.  Sometimes it is flat out painful.  If you can call yourself out, you can call others out, too.  The dilemma lies in the fact that when someone can't see what they are doing wrong, it's harder to reach personal accountability to an action or behavior.  I struggled on an incredibly deep level with this with my mother growing up, well in to adulthood.  It's one of those deep-seeded behaviors that I will never forget.  There were patterns to everything she did; she just never reached an understanding of herself enough to acknowledge them.  It was excruciating to watch, and painful to experience.  I like to believe that I experienced this with her so that it would make me better at gaining a sense of personal accountability.  I also learned that because of this, if someone is coming from a place of love with a genuine concern maybe you should listen and reflect.  They will either hear the message or they won't but it isn't your job to correct a behavior in someone that is causing themselves harm.  We all have choices. 

The goal is never to judge or criticize a boundary; the goal is to understand and respect them and meet people where they are.  Pushing people in appropriate ways helps them grow; crossing the stated boundaries, however, is never acceptable.  It's down-right disrespectful.  I think many agree with this sentiment, but often when emotions run high it gets harder to adhere to the rules of engagement.  If you find yourself struggling in this department, try removing the emotion and hear the message being delivered.  Sometimes you'll be surprised at what you're actually hearing when you strip away your personal feelings.  If you want to read something amazing by Mark Manson on what leads to successful relationships, check out this article.  It can be applied to most relationships, honestly.  He's a brilliant observer.

- BWT

“When we fail to set boundaries and hold people accountable, we feel used and mistreated. This is why we sometimes attack who they are, which is far more hurtful than addressing a behavior or a choice.”

— Brene Brown

THE BREAKDOWN

I’ve recently discovered my “new” personality type (I’ve shifted over the course of 15 years) and I’m blown away at how little I had ever really analyzed it.  Anyone who truly knows me knows that I am ridiculously analytical.  Almost to a fault.  But I can’t help it.  And I really don’t want to help it.  It’s just who I am.  It has a name.  INTJ.  So here it is:  my breakdown. 

I’m a perfectionist.  My heart, mind, and soul are in constant need for the best possible life and circumstances.  (My expectations are, however, in check as I am WHOLLY aware there is no such thing as Utopia).  The best possible life?  Well, it’s whatever that may be, and with whomever.  Even if it means I’m alone. (Spoken like a true introvert, I know).  I don’t find value in wasting time on things that are failed systems, unproductive, or useless.  It doesn’t mean I judge anyone for being different than me…it just means this is how I function.  It takes me a while to open up to someone, but when I do it’s usually someone who is for life.  Whatever the capacity.     

I’m a deeply emotional person.  But I don’t like sharing my emotions with people as a general rule of thumb.  I find it exhausting to handle emotion; I prefer to handle things with logic and reason.  That’s why I love to write—it affords me the outlet of being open without having to actually interact with people.  I get an opportunity to think through feelings and apply language to construct feelings in a way that makes sense to others.  Love and feelings are foreign to me on the outside; I’m not driven by emotion.  I’m driven by logic and understanding.  My closest friends and family find ways to laugh at me all the time for “troubleshooting” when it comes to feelings.  I laugh, too, because I realize the ridiculousness of my behavior at times.  Not all things are done with logic...I completely understand that.  It’s just not how my brain is wired.  I’m a solutions kid therefore everything (yes, even love) has a solution with the right process.  Asking me to go with the flow feels too much like chaos.  Follow your heart doesn’t make sense to me.  I like to know what I’m getting in to; I’m not a blind operator.  There is typically a plan B and C in my life.  I don’t always find this healthy either, by the way.  But it does give me peace of mind to have thought through something and be as prepared for anything as I can possibly be.

I enjoy deep and meaningful conversations with people.  I love talking about theories, ideas, philosophies, behaviors, life, and others’ visions.  Idea-sharing motivates me and inspires me.  I love creative things.  I pay attention to the universe and the signs present; intuition comes easily for me.  I consider myself very spiritual (but not religious) so talking about outside forces at work is also fascinating to me.  Signs are always there and I’m lucky to catch many of them before most people.  I’m highly observant, even if I don’t look like I’m paying attention.  Chances are I’m mentally processing what I’m witnessing.    

I process information quickly.  And way too frequently.  When people make suggestions, I have to think about them…extensively.  I appreciate meaningful feedback, removed of emotion.  When people come at me emotionally, I get defensive.  Not because I don’t care, but because that’s not something I understand.  I have to take time to process information and map it in to my brain, in a way that works for me.  I typically know quickly when people suggest something whether or not it will work.  I don’t think people are ignorant; I just follow my instincts but appreciate sound advice.  Therefore, telling me what to do never works.  Just ask anyone who’s ever told me to do something...except my work life (because they’re paying me and I like to keep getting a paycheck…but I do find a way to challenge when it’s necessary). 

I enjoy listening.  Sometimes it’s harder for me to listen when people are telling me their issues/concerns because my mind naturally gravitates toward finding a solution.  Everything about my brain drifts down this path and looks for a process and steps to correct issues.  I get it…this doesn’t work for a lot of people, so I generally excel at work for this reason.  I’ve had a successful career because of this (and I’ve had awesome mentors who have understood this about me).  Meanwhile, my significant others/friends/family finds this behavior frustrating (except for those who are process-driven like me).  I try to be as empathetic to this for their benefit as my brain will allow.  It doesn’t always work; sometimes I’m too harsh in my approach.

I’m forever seeking to learn new things.  Understand patterns/behaviors.  Working to improve myself.  I require it.  I love learning and growing from experiences.  Change is always hard but it rarely scares me.  I prefer things that are effective and efficient, which is why I am constantly studying things—whether people, places, systems, processes, scenarios, etc.  It ALL exhilarates me.  It’s why my house is ridiculously organized and I am forever finding ways to improve it.  It’s why I love my career field; it gives me an opportunity to learn about others and finding solutions for them.  It’s what has worked for me in raising a child.  But… 

My romantic relationships?  They might tell you otherwise.  My approach to love and value in a relationship often comes across as ”managing” a relationship…which can be hard for some people to understand, much less adapt.  It’s not that I don’t care; I care very deeply and prefer stability and loyalty over random and emotional.  I was fortunate once to fall in love with someone who showed me the “other” side.  That doesn’t mean it was an easy road to ride on together.  Messages got misunderstood, ignored, or sometimes never reach a resolution. I’m often misunderstood in love; perceived as selfish or uncompromising.  I just know what makes me happy and what makes me sad…it’s pretty black and white in my mind.  However, most people have color. The key for me is to find someone who shares similar beliefs and values, and has a sense of humor—so he can tell me when I’m being an asshole.

When do I feel most loved or appreciated?  I’m unusual in this way.  I don’t require fulfillment from someone.  I believe we are only capable of making ourselves happy.  A friend told me something I found simple, yet eye-opening today as it has never been put to me in this way:  relationships are meant to be enjoyed; partners are not your responsibility.  Time and space alone to reflect is the one way someone can show me love and appreciation.  I also value time spent together, so I’m not a complete ass.  This is true and a lesson I learned from my previous marriage.  We can only accept people where they are, and choose to support and love them through change.  We also have to recognize when there’s a breakdown or a broken boundary (more on that in another epiphany). 

The end game for everyone?  Pay attention.  It’s not personal; it rarely ever is.  If people communicate, listen; don’t just hear the message but truly listen and aim to understand.  It doesn’t mean you have to agree.  Don’t be afraid to confront issues but do it in a meaningful manner.  Don’t aim to hurt someone’s feelings just because you can or just because you’re hurt.  Be kind and be deliberate in your communication and you’ll get somewhere.  Challenge yourself to be self-aware and dig deeper.  Communicate those discoveries. 

Life is hard.  People are complex.  And so is love.  But we always have a choice.  Commitment is often stronger than emotion and can carry you through the hard times.

-BWT