What Am I Fighting For?

Much of the time, I am extremely happy. I recognize and truly appreciate the many great things and people in my life and I am (for the most part) content where I am. It hasn’t always been this way for me, and it didn’t come easy. At different times over the last several years, I’ve found myself struggling and fighting for my happiness.

It can make you feel resentful, and, rather bitter having to fight for what should be rightfully yours. After all, we generally come from a place of happy, don’t we? We’re bright-eyed, bubbly little children. We’re innocent, carefree and seemingly invincible. But, where does it all go wrong?

I could try and pinpoint exactly where it might have happened in my life, but it would require many pins, and even years later I’m not so sure I’m ready or willing to face down the many demons that have been in my life for so very long.

All I know is that shortly after my children were born, I went on a personal quest to be happy. Their birth brought great clarification in choices that I had made and how happy I truly wasn’t at that time. And I knew that to be a proper mother to them, and to gain peace of mine for myself, I had to do something. That “something” involved sacrifice and tears and doing things I really didn’t want to do, and it was actually chronicled here on this very blog. But I did it, and just a couple of years later, it seemed that my efforts hadn’t been for naught.

But we always recognize that old familiar feeling. It’s reappeared here over the last few years and, admittedly, I ignored it. I tried to convince myself that I was happy enough, that maybe I was simply asking for too much…but no.

I fought and I fought hard. And I did it for a reason. And this…what I’m living right now…this isn’t the reason.

While I’m still fighting, I’ve realized more and more that I’m fighting to get someone to see me for the person that I truly am, when I exposed that very person years ago, and didn’t change a thing. I’m actually changing things now to make things better, make it better, make him feel better, but I’m altering myself. If that’s the person I have to be, the person he would be happy with, then I can’t make him happy…not if I’m not.

I’ve offered him several times an alternative to being with me, but he believes that this makes me a cold-hearted bitch. I’m really not. I simply want for him what I want for us all, happiness and I’m not naïve enough to believe that I’m solely responsible for giving him this.

He blames “love” for keeping him trapped in a place where he is (apparently) miserable and I’m supposed to bear the load. I refuse to do it anymore, and I said it out loud.

I wish I wasn’t so up, down, and all over the place. I wish that you could read this and nod along and really “get” where I’m coming from. But… I don’t chronicle everything, every time or at any particular time, so this blog, like my life, can be quite confusing.

All I can say is look for change, because…it’s gonna come.


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