Friday, June 6, 2025

Recognizing redemption

“You’ll See”

“He is never going to work,” my grandmother whispered.
“You’ll see,” she added.
And somewhere deep in my spirit, I echoed her words though I didn’t fully understand them at the time.

Back then, all I saw was potential.
But potential without action becomes weight.
And I carried that weight every single day.

“He can’t even hold his pants up,” she once said, shaking her head as his underwear showed.
A small moment, but now I see it for what it was:
A metaphor
Not just about pants.
But about responsibility.
Effort.
Pride.
Drive.

Years passed, and I found myself mentally drained.
Working with no help.
Pushing through two jobs for most of my life.
Trying to hold up an entire household while no one held me up.

What I thought was partnership
Was survival.

And when you live in survival mode too long,
You forget what it feels like to be safe.
To rest.
To receive.

New day, same pain.

As I pushed through life, exhaustion became my norm.
In the midst of that survival, without malice or intention,
I found myself pregnant again.
Some might say, "Well, you had time for that."
As if pain can’t coexist with pleasure.
As if chaos doesn’t crave connection.
And like my grandmother used to say,
“A hard head makes a soft behind.”

My choices weren’t rooted in recklessness.
They came from trauma.
From abandonment.
From a longing to love
To be loved.
To create something everlasting in a world full of temporary.

Though he was physically present, the burnout didn’t stop.
His body was there,
But the weight
It still sat on my shoulders.

And there were too many moments when I couldn’t show up for my children
In the way I had always dreamed.
Not because I didn’t want to—
But because I simply had nothing left to give.

The show-up wasn’t in quality.
Quality over quantity, they say.
But survival mode doesn’t give you a choice.

I envisioned a version of motherhood full of warmth,
Softness,
Intentional love.
But survival dims the light in even the brightest hearts.

So I navigated parenthood through exhaustion,
Resentment,
And a field of unmet needs.

Still
I showed up.
To the best of my abilities.
Even when I was breaking inside.

And sometimes, the quiet question whispered through my thoughts:
Would I even be missed if I were gone?
Does anyone really care if I exist… or don’t?

I need a break.
A pause.
A space to breathe.
To be held for once.


"Break?" you say?
Just a glimpse of what life looked like
Let me paint this picture

Coming home to clean
To cook
And even on the days they cooked, I still had to clean the kitchen
No rest
No pause
No exhale
No welcome home
Just souls existing to sleep and wake

The existing became more evident after the betrayal, yes, plural
But a person will never recognize betrayal if their mind is fixed
Fixed on dysfunction
Fixed on avoidance
Fixed on fantasy

And in the chaos of that home, I was always in school
Always searching
Searching for purpose
Searching for identity
Searching for validation
Searching to search, honestly

I knew this couldn’t be life
And if it was
I couldn’t confidently say I’d want to keep existing in it
Some might say that’s harsh
And no, I don’t glorify that darkness
But let’s be real
We should be able to say how we feel
How we felt
Without being shamed in the space

That’s my truth

And that’s why it’s important to work through our pain
To remove ourselves from mentally draining relationships and suffocating spaces
Because every day became an epic search to simply be seen

Hoping that maybe, just maybe
If I achieved enough
Accomplished enough
Someone would finally say I see you

But the truth is
I was chasing approval from people who could never understand me
Shit, they don’t even see me, so how can they value me
Who could never withstand
The weight of my worth

There was no validation
No appreciation for what I did for him
No recognition for what I brought to that family
No gratitude for the light I carried

The most pathetic part
I kept trying to save a “family” that never had a real foundation
We were all building on sand, no anchoring at all
On the back of a man who, even 15… 20 years later
Still dragged his pants
Still refused to fix his appearance unless for some odd occasion

And I
Still celebrated his soul
Hoping if he felt good, maybe he’d reflect it back to me
But that hope only enabled him
Because I celebrated traits that were toxic, selfish, and irresponsible
And when I finally spoke up
When I said, “You’re being lazy”
You’re capable of more than you're projecting
I became the problem

Damn if I do. Damn if I don’t

The ones who should’ve said, “Do better”
Instead said, “You’re doing just fine. She’s the problem, it’s not you”
But healthy villages require honesty
But how can a family hold him accountable when they themselves are delusional
A healthy supportive family would support the family as a whole

They require the courage to say
“You’re wrong. You need to grow”

As a wife, a woman, a friend
I thought it was my job to encourage growth
But somehow, I was always the one in the wrong

Me working
That became his excuse to never step up
To avoid becoming a man
Not just for us but for himself

And me
I was wrong for dreaming
Wrong for wanting partnership instead of martyrdom
Wrong for craving teamwork
Wrong for wanting a family built on shared effort

I gave rides
Exhausted
Shared my vehicles
Gave my peace
Gave time I didn’t have
Gave up boundaries daily to a family that never loved me

But I loved them unwavering

And the moment I said “no”
God forbid
I became the villain

So often, I said “forget it” to my own needs
Not in words but in actions
Trying to prove myself to people who only knew how to take

The moment you choose yourself
Set boundaries
Reclaim your voice
You become “she ain’t nothing” in the eyes of the damaged

Not because you hurt them
But because your healing exposes their refusal to grow
Your boundaries highlight the chaos they’ve normalized
Your no disrupts the access they felt entitled to

Let’s be clear
Damaged souls will always vilify what they don’t understand
Especially when you choose freedom over dysfunction

Your peace looks like betrayal
To people who only knew you through your pain

So when you evolve
They call you selfish
Fake
Disloyal

But here’s the truth

You were never the villain
You were just finally brave enough
To stop playing the victim
In a story that was never yours to carry

And if being “ain’t nothing” means
Protecting my peace
Standing in my worth
Refusing to shrink for broken people
Who won’t even acknowledge they have issues

Then so be it
Call me what you need to

I call it freedom
And freedom begins with truth

I was a victim of trauma
Of pain passed down
Of wounds I didn’t create
But carried anyway

And I will no longer wear those wounds as a shield
To justify behaviors that hold me back

For most of my life, I wore labels that weren’t mine
Too much
Too extra
Too emotional
Too strong
Too crazy
Too ambitious

But the truth is
I was just trying to survive
Trying to love right
Trying to build something solid
In the middle of emotional earthquakes

Truth is, I came into the space with emotional earthquakes

But I loved everyone unwavering

They told stories about me
Called me all kinds of names
Said I switched up

And you know what
Absolutely I did
Because that’s what growth looks like
That’s what God calls us to do

When I started choosing myself
Stopped explaining my boundaries
Stopped carrying what wasn’t mine

They called me selfish
Crowned a man who spoke negatively about his own family

Never sacrificed anything for them
But I did

But I’ve learned
Freedom has a cost
That cost was a family I loved despite their dysfunction and quirks
And I am okay with that
Because they never valued me
Peace is something you fight for
And I had to fight through many demons and sleepless nights

Feeling like the walking dead

I’m not the villain
I’m the survivor
The healer
The one who decided that the cycle ends with me

Four years ago, almost to this exact day—we finalized our divorce
And let me be honest
It wasn’t easy
But it was necessary

That decision came with grief
Guilt
And a flood of what-ifs
What if I tried harder
What if no one else ever sees me
What if choosing me means being alone


Even the pre jealousy of what if he does everything, I ever wanted him to do with someone else.
All I desired was a teammate. Problem was even just that simple want was me settling for less than I deserve. 

But after all the what ifs came a quiet but powerful desire
To live life to its maxesity
To not just exist
But to fully live

That desire started as just a dream
A distant, fragile hope
Something I believed might exist
Maybe
For someone else

But the idea of actually pulling it off
It felt virtually impossible

I had moments where I cried on bathroom floors
Where I questioned everything
Where I almost turned back
I wrestled with thoughts that told me I wasn’t enough
Or that my best days were behind me

But even in the mess
I kept walking
I kept choosing me

Because healing doesn’t always look graceful
Sometimes it’s gritty
Sometimes it’s lonely
But it’s always worth it

And today
Standing in this moment
I don’t mourn that chapter
I honor it
Because it brought me here

To a love that is safe
To a marriage that is healthy
To a version of myself that is whole

This is a new beginning
As a wife
Not just in title
But in truth
In trust
And in peace

This is what growth looks like
This is what healing feels like
This is what choosing yourself leads to

So if you’re reading this 
Don’t be afraid to release what was
In order to receive what is meant

If you hold on to things not meant for you
You will never find what is truly meant for you


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Recognizing redemption

“You’ll See” “He is never going to work,” my grandmother whispered. “You’ll see,” she added. And somewhere deep in my spirit, I echoed her...