04 Apr When I’m Not So Lovable
It’s not easy to admit that I’m not that lovable at times. But it’s true. Ever since I became a mom I would equate myself to one of those pop-up summer storms. The day goes along sunny, warm and beautiful and then out of nowhere the clouds roll in and a storm hits, full of thunder, lighting and torrential down pours but after a short time the sun shines again and the clouds disperse giving way to total clarity. It’s not easy loving me, that I know to be true.
I have always been an intense person for as long as I could remember. I love deeply and I hurt even deeper. I have often felt along my journey that I’m truly unlovable and here I am as an adult shouting this out to the world. After having my sons I felt there was another layer to add to this already surmountable pile of reasons why I was unlovable, postpartum depression and anxiety. But in me you saw something. In me you saw something to love and I want to thank you.
You came into my life not long after the biggest tragedy I had ever endured, the loss of my mother. You were patient and kind and never tried to “get it.” You never came with words out of a hallmark card, you came with you and that was enough. Every time I want to go and visit her grave you always make sure you are there and never want me to go it alone. You let me grieve, even over a decade later, in any way I need to, and you just hold your hand out. Thank you for being patient and knowing that I will be forever in a state of healing. Thank you for still finding me lovable.
I come with baggage and you’re there to carry it for me. You never let me fall under its weight. I overthink most things and you let me ramble. Sometimes you may not be listening, and I don’t blame you, but you just let me go on…and on. You never force opinions on me and you never try to convince me otherwise. You acknowledge my feelings and give me a new perspective without being judgmental. I’m stubborn, can be short and outwardly admit that I start many disagreements. There you have it in black and white. I know my shortcomings but somehow I think you have more of a grasp on them. Thank you for your reassurance, acceptance and for still finding me lovable.
I’m not the extrovert you are, not by a longshot. I’m reserved and cautious, especially when venturing out into new unchartered territories. I’m always in awe of how easily you seem to fit in everywhere. You recognize that I need time. Time for most things that I do. You silently acknowledge this and let things fall into place for me in my own time. You’re patient and never make me feel like an outsider. Thank you for this and for still finding me lovable.
I suffer from postpartum depression and anxiety. The anxiety brings me to my knees. You were the one to say, “enough” in the hospital when I couldn’t get the words out. You were the one that carried this new life of ours the first few weeks because I physically and emotionally couldn’t. You were tired, especially from a brutal tax season. I decided to screw that year up for you big time by moving up my C-section date (P.S. You would have done the same thing if you were in my shoes!) but you kept moving forward thru it all. I was dark both inside and out. I cried incessantly. I hated myself and how I felt. Most days I thought I would lose consciousness from the feeling of not being able to breathe because my PPD and PPA was so horrific. You continued to see a light in me. You were, and are, my foundation. Thank you for providing a platform for me to continually repair myself and for still finding me lovable.
My anxiety is like the third wheel in our relationship. It always lingers. When I’m crying out of fear, when I’m shaking from the uncertainty and when I’m utterly lost in my thoughts you never discount what I’m saying. Not once have you used the word “crazy.” You never try to “fix” me and never make me feel broken. I have put you thru the mill recently. I have hit a bad patch. I know I have. My anxiety has come out two-fold and despite how hectic your days and nights are right now you are doing all you can to walk with me and figure this mess out. Thank you for not abandoning me. Thank you for loving me when my mind feels like a tornado is hitting and others would run for shelter. Thank you for riding out the storms with me and for still finding me lovable.
There are so many times where I think that you deserve better. That you don’t deserve to be burdened by my darkness and that it is certainly not something you signed up for. I often wonder if you miss the old me as much as I do. If you mourn her like I do at times. Do you ever look for the woman you married or do you still see her? I know you know that I’m trying and that I have to work at this thing called life a lot harder than most. Thank you for your acceptance of my ever changing self, for still choosing me, and for still finding me loveable.
It’s easy to love someone when they are at their best. It’s easy to love someone when the road is smooth and all things fall into place but to love someone when they are at their worst, to love someone thru their darkest of days and thru the moments when the past seems to come back to life speaks to someone’s character. Thank you for seeing me and not seeing thru me. Thank you for being my guide, awakening my soul and for bringing such beauty to my world. Thank you for loving me thru it all, and being my hero, even though I’m not always that lovable.
“When we come into contact with the other person, our thoughts and actions should express our mind of compassion, even if that person says and does things that are not easy to accept. We practice in this way until we see clearly that our love is not contingent upon the other person being lovable.” Thich Nhat Hanh
Katherin BusbyPosted at 11:49h, 05 April
I need to read this!! You’re blessed to have a husband that sees through all this and sees his beautiful wife and mother of his children. ❤
Jasmin McKennaPosted at 05:54h, 15 July
Such beautiful words. My husband carried me through PPD and fortunately I have come through it. I’m so sorry that your mum was not there to help you through this time. It was my mum that booked my appointment to the doctors and that I moved into. She saved my family and it breaks my heart that your mum couldn’t help yours.