While talking to my daughter tonight, I was reminded that I do indeed, have many faults. It’s not that we spent our phone conversation discussing faults or, in fact arguing. We had, by contrast, a delightful conversation. I love my daughter very much but we don’t always get along. In fact, I have to say, she’s much happier living where she is now than when she was living here at home. She now lives with her dad. The reason, you ask? The answer is me. I am the reason.
I have said before that I am a work in progress. I have so many faults I don’t know where to begin. It was my oldest daughter’s recommendation that I open up about my faults to show you that I’m not some pretentious “fake” person who writes about things and pretends to some perfect person. Those people don’t exist. So, I will tell you, I have a hard time admitting my faults. This will be difficult, but I thought this was a great idea. It’s a great way to grow as a person. You are my audience and I appreciate you. I appreciate any input you have to help me along this journey of growth, too.
As I said, I don’t admit my faults well. In fact, I really suck at admitting I’m wrong most of the time. I’m opinionated. I’m obstinante. I cry easily and I yell when I’m upset, a lot. I don’t just yell, I yell really mean and often hurtful things at the people I love. I’m trying to work on this, but it’s so hard. Why am I like this? God, what I wouldn’t give to know the answer to that.
I hate that I get so upset so easily. I don’t remember always being like this either. I used to be very easy going. I used to get upset, but over time, I guess I developed this terrible habit of yelling when I’d cry and say hurtful things because I was hurting. How awful I feel too. I have to say this is my most hated trait about myself, especially since most people see me as this bubbly, happy person on the outside of my house. They don’t see the hurt, evil, mean me. And I am very mean when I’m angry. The problem is, when I’m mean and angry, it’s always because I am feeling like I’ve been wronged somehow even when it isn’t true.
I take everything that my family does personally. If the kids don’t listen, it’s a personal attack on the kind of mother I am. Stupid, I know, but there it is. If my husband doesn’t want my affection because he is exhauseted or not feeling well, then I’m too fat and he doesn’t love me anymore. See, somehow, it’s my fault. I am the cause of my problem and what my family doesn’t know is that I already know that I am my own worst enemy.
I’m working on being kind. I’ve always been kind to others. It’s one of my best traits. Now, I have to work on being kind to myself, especially when I’m feeling hurt or angry. I’m working on being kinder to my family, but sometimes that’s really hard. I find it reallyl hard to have unrelenting patience with the kids when they just can’t seem to listen the first time they are asked to do something. “Please” is something I’m learning to use when I ask them to do a chore, but often it doesn’t seem to get them moving any faster. I do beat myself up over it later, after I’ve yelled at them, but I hope I’m improving as a mom. I screw up daily, but I’m human. God help me please. I am only human and I’m learning every day.