Mom and Me

I have a complicated opinion of my mom. I know. What an opener. But she's a big reason I've undergone this journey of mine. Why I've become the phoenix rising. She sadly passed away in 2013, but it's like my relationship with her while she was alive has 3 distinct periods. Childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood. And the effects of each phase are still lingering to this day. 

Childhood

I couldn't have asked for a better mom in childhood. She volunteered in my classroom when I was in school. She let me get involved in what I wanted to do - Girl Scouts, sports, band, strings, youth orchestra, and so on. She came to my games and later my concerts. Encouraged me. She's a big reason why I love to read as much as I do. She always read to me and encouraged me to read. She would take me to the library during summers. Buy me books before I was even in school. And so on. I remember calling her my best friend. And for all intents and purposes, she was. I felt like she could do no wrong. 

Adolescence

I'd say that this starts around my sophomore year of high school. Now that I'm older, I can see that she had a controlling streak. Choosing my clothes, both daily and on shopping trips for school. I'm sure there are other ways, but that stands out the most. And she had a temper. And a selfish side. I have very vivid memories of being yelled at. I'm not talking a firm tone of voice. I'm talking full yelling, to the point where it sounded like she was hurting her voice. I remember having nobody there for me at an important banquet because she "didn't want to be seen". And there were very late nights at work. I won't go into any further details, but it was during this time that I began to feel like I wasn't enough. I developed my fear of upsetting anyone or making a mistake because I knew how she reacted to mistakes. I proudly labeled myself as a perfectionist, not knowing that I shouldn't have been proud of that. And it was the lack of control over my own life that led me to develop the strictness I have over myself today. Yet I still loved her. I never hated her. I couldn't. 

Young Adulthood

Things improved here. Things happened that caused her to get her act together. She became supportive again. She would come to Martin and have dinner with me when I was on break at band camp. We would take weekend day trips to Paducah or Jackson or Clarksville with dad when he didn't have to work. She came to my concerts in the summer. And so on. She found God and began to pray again, which is a huge part of why she turned around. I wish she'd done it sooner, because I only got a few years with her like this. She developed a rare cancer and later broke her leg while trying to run to the bathroom. That was another huge impact which needs an entry of its own. In 2013, she passed away of kidney failure brought on by her cancer. And it took me until last year to realize just how much her behaviors during my adolescence impacted the adult I am today. 

She is a big reason I have anxiety.

She is a big reason I walk on eggshells and can't really "be myself".

She is a big reason I struggle with self-esteem and self-worth. I have forgiven her for her actions, but the impacts are there. I have made progress, which I'll get into later.

But over all of this, the reason I can't hate her, she's half of the reason I exist. I wouldn't be here without her. Or I would, but I'd be completely different. So I am grateful for her. And I love her to this day. And I miss her. But I know she's in Heaven with Nanny and Papa, watching over me as I grow and progress. 

So this is the beginning of my story. It'll be happy at times, and it'll be sad at times. There'll be some things that I haven't talked about a lot. But if by some chance my story can help someone else find hope, then I will gladly tell it.