Sunday Confession #Insecurities

Oh boy. What can I write about insecurities that doesn't take up all day?

As a little girl growing up in an emotionally abusive household, I have enough insecurities about myself that could fill my house.

My weight is an issue, even when I was at my smallest, I still felt huge.
Now, I'm bigger than I would like and it affects every aspect of my life.

I feel ugly. I hate my hair, my skin, my everything. Who wants an ugly, fat, single mom of 4?
That's what goes through my head on a daily basis.
And that's the demon I have to fight on a daily basis.

I care way too much about what other people think of me. Sometimes I won't even speak because I worry about what they will say or think. I know not everyone is going to like who I am and I can tell myself that over and over until I choke on those words but that sense of dread is always present.

I remember being pregnant with Little One and throwing myself at my ex because I just wanted him to touch me. He would spend the night watching porn and talking to whatever girl he had on the side and I would be in my room silently crying myself to sleep. It took a very long time to find my sterner and kick him out. That was probably the strongest thing I did in my whole life.

I don't want to hate myself. I don't want to be that girl I was, crying in the dark, hoping noone will hear me.
 I've come a long way from her, but I know I still have a long road ahead of me.

My little one

Today my little one turns 5. He is now a whole hand. My tiny little boy, who still fits size 3 clothing, is growing so fast. Too fast it seems.
Giving birth to him seems like it wasn't that long ago, but in truth it has been exactly 5 years. How did that happen?
Perhaps this is more bittersweet for me because he is my last. My body will no longer grow a child. I will no longer get those newborn snuggles, steal those first kisses or hear mommy for the first time ever.
Not that I'm hoping it would have happened again, I'm quite content with my 4 boys.

But my baby is no longer a baby. He will be starting school.
I can already see the changes in him.
How did he grow so big? How did he get so smart?
Why does it feel as though in just a blink, my boy changed so much?
5 years ago, my doctor placed a tiny, blonde haired, wrinkly little boy on my chest. I wrapped my arms around him for the first time. I kissed his nose, his cheeks, his fingers and toes. I explored every inch of his round little body, feasting my eyes upon my son. MY son. I brought him up to my heart and he curled right in as though he knew that's exactly where he belonged. And he hasn't left.
If my whole life could be defined in moments, just little moments, where I knew without a doubt that what I did mattered, this would be one of them. The day he came into this world.
Happy birthday to an incredibly gentle and loving and beautiful soul. My heart will always be yours.

Sunday Confession #ThingsIdointheshower

I love the shower. I tend to have mine at night more than anything. I could and usually do spend a lot of time in there. There's something about the hot water running over my head and body that is very relaxing to me. The hotter, the better.
Besides the usual hair and body washing and shaving of bits, I like to just lean against the wall (I have a very tiny shower stall--only big enough to fit 2 people) and let the water run over me.
I sometimes have music on because I love to sing and somehow the water drowns out the horrible screeching of my voice to others.
Other times I like it quiet, because in a house of 4 boys, it's never quiet.

But mostly, I love staying in the shower because it's an escape for me. I can lock the door, step into the heat, and wash away all troubles and stresses and dirt that has leeched onto me. For 30 mins (that's usually how long the hot water lasts) I can drown it all out and come out refreshed.

Sometimes, I like to share that experience with another.
How do you think I know that my shower stall can fit 2 people? ;)

Sunday Confession #Regrets

Regret.
I have been chewing on that word for a very long time.
 It's bittersweet in my mouth because for some of my big regrets there also came something wonderful.

On the surface I can say so easily, I regret that decision but then when I really dig deep down, right to the bloody core of it, I can see slivers of beauty intertwined all throughout.
Regret of being with my ex is laced with every smile, every tear, every hug, every moment with my little one.

But there are things I do truly wish that I could go back and do over.
I regret not standing up for myself and for others.
I regret not speaking up because I was too afraid that I would be unliked.
I regret not showing those closest to me how much I was really hurting.

I regret not fighting when I should have.
That's a big one. I'm not a fighter. I hate conflict.
I would rather hide my head in the sand instead of face something head on.

My regrets are my armor and I think it's about time I take it all off.