Looking for Inspiration

I said I would write something everyday. Some days it is not so easy. I miss my daughter’s very much, today even more so.

For all of their lives I was the one always there. I was the one doting on them, grounding them, arguing with them. I was the one stressing over the cost of annuals, cars, braces, all the things parents stress about.

Now I am here, almost 1800 miles away. My daughter is expecting her first child. I’m not there watching her pregnancy progress. I watch others as they step in where I should be. This is not easy. I was always selfish with my daughter’s. They were mine. From the time I found out I was pregnant, they were mine.

My youngest daughter just had her first surgery. She had her tonsils removed. I was not there to see her into surgery. I was not there to kiss her check as she worried and stressed. Thankfully her Nanny was there to stand in where I should have been.

My daughter and her fiance own their first home. I watch as her fiancee mom becomes an important part of my daughter’s life, helping her with household issues, I’m sure she cooks a meal for them occasionally. I miss cooking with my daughter.

I watch from afar as my daughter’s deal with life. I watch as my youngest daughter struggles with her relationship with her father, while her sisters are gaining a stronger relationship with him.

I remind my youngest daughter that she has every right to find her own path in life. I will not always agree with the choices my daughter’s make, but my love for them is unconditional.

I struggled with self acceptance for years. This happens especially to females that have never felt like “daddy’s girl” or a “princess”. I wanted approval from my father as well.

When I was married, with all the material things, a husband that worked and financially provided for me, I felt that made my dad proud. Choosing to find my own way, sruggling, being independent, having my own opinions, living my life the way I choose, making the wrong choices, I felt judged.

I want my daughter to always hold her head up. People from small towns can be so cruel if you are not living your life to their standards. I look back at my life after my divorce. I dealt with depression. I felt beat up by people that should have supported me. People thought they had a say so as to who I dated, or where I went, my everyday life.

I still wanted their approval. I would defend myself to these people. They did not pay my bills, they were not working all the time to raise three daughter’s. If I could change one thing in my life, from the day I left my ex husband I would have told these people to kiss my ass.

My experience after my divorce made me strong. My experience of never being a “daddy’s girl” made me strong. My dad and I have a decent relationship now. I did not know him until I was 10 years old, so we were unable to connect when I was a sibling. In his defense he has been wonderful with my daughters, and I am very thankful for him.

However, I know how my youngest daughter feels. I try to reassure her that years from now if she keeps pushing for her own self acceptance she will not seek her dad’s approval. She has to seek her own approval.

I hope my daughter’s continue to grow closer to their dad, even his wife. I hope my grand daughter has all the love from every individual that comes her way. I’m trying not to be jealous. I’m trying not to allow my ego to get in the way and run home and show them who the best “Glammy” is.

I’m trying to allow my youngest daughter to figure things out on her own. Life is not always about making the right choices. Life for some people is harder to deal with. I have always went with whatever sets my soul on fire. This is not always the best choice. I’ve made some really stupid choices. I’ve taken some really crazy chances, but I’m ok with that.

Who’s story do you want to hear? The perfect self rightous person that always makes the right choices? Or the story of the person that made the wrong choices which sent them on a path of distruction, a path of adventure, a path of struggle, then the road to overcome, to succeed against all odds.

I want to hear the story of the person that struggles. I want to hear the story of the person that makes the wrong choices but is able to rebuild. I want to hear the story of the sinner. I’m not interested in the saint.

So all the self righteous people that base their worth in the house they own, or the car they drive, get over yourselves. All it takes is a job and good credit to be where you are. Stop looking your nose down and judging those that struggle to find themselves. They are just not settling for the norm.

I feel this blog is kind of personal, and may ruffle some feathers, especially from the self righteous. I am so far from perfect. I have made more bad choices than I have good, but I own them.

I hope my youngest daughter can take baby steps each day to get her on the right path for her. Not for her dad, not for me, not for her sisters, not for anyone but herself.

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