So it seems the older I get the more I realize that certain women take Motherhood to a very weird level. The weirdest being that they completely disappear. One minute they're young, beautiful, free, enjoying Mojito's at 2pm with friends, shopping spree's, letting creativity flow by doing things they love - just being who they were born to be, really. Then they meet some man. I've watched it happen over and over with the women I know. Not to sound like I hate men but, really, they do nothing but upset the female race it seems like.
My two best friend's are a prime example with men. One minute they have a personality. Then they meet said man & over the course of months, weeks, years, their personality dissolves and they become someone else. Someone more attuned to him and his likes and dislikes. The man, of course, shows no remorse or even gives thought to the fact that the reason she "isn't the woman he married" is because he made her that way. Then they decide to procreate.
Once the children start coming - they just seem to sort of disappear altogether. What little fragments of themselves remain evanesce into the ether to seemingly never be found again.
WHY? For years I asked myself this question. Why do they just give up on themselves? Some of them claim that it's "Life made Luminous" or "The best thing that ever happened to them" or that it makes them "selfless/not selfish" but I don't buy that shit. Since when was getting a pedicure after a hard week at work being selfish? Or having your hair done so you feel at your best? After all, if you can afford to pamper yourself, fucking DO IT. When did buying yourself new undergarments that actually fit and weren't falling apart considered to be so horrible? I'll tell you.
While I was growing up my mother was always the victim, the martyr, the one who had to "go without." She never let us forget that she would regularly choose to go without in order that we have more. & it was STUPID. We could have easily afforded that new bra to replace the one that was so worn down that it looked like two bandages held together by some string. Or a new blouse she had wanted. It was usually from the sale rack anyways! It wasn't like we were so destitute that we were hand making our own clothes from rags.
I think, still to this day, that she enjoys being the martyr. I really do. I don't know why. I prefer to take care of myself and pamper myself rather than play some sick twisted martyrdom game with my family. Why? Because I value myself. I didn't always. There was a time where my self-esteem had become so damn low that I played the victim with my nephews because I didn't know what else to do. Plus they were kind of dropped into my life by parent's who had addiction issues.
My theory is this: If a woman lets herself be lost in the relationships around her - then she's going to completely lose herself eventually. (Duh) People will keep using her up because it's human nature. How are you going to be a decent wife if you're just a ghost? Or a mother? You play the victim card so other's buy you things so you don't have to force yourself to have enough self esteem to buy them for yourself. How messed up is that? How messed up are you?
This blog post is kind of out there and rambly, but hopefully you get my drift. Don't lose yourself in a man and children to the point that you forget who you are. If you do - then it wasn't worth it. Not for you. Not for your husband. Not for your children. All of you deserve better.
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