“The more I think, the more confused I get.”
I never want it to seem like I have bad parents, or that I wasn’t loved. I always knew where my next meal was coming from, there was a roof over my head, and they did the very best they could with what they had. Their relationship was toxic, and the product of that was two children who had a misconstrued idea of what love was.
This blog isn’t ment to complain about my childhood, I’m just trying to lay a foundation to explain what came next as I was able to make my own choices. My heart was already cracked as a kid, but what I did to myself completely shattered it. The men I allowed in my life, the kind of treatment I saw as acceptable, and the even more embarrassing actions on my part that left me feeling ashamed and disappointed in myself.
From the time I turned 16, I was always in a relationship. I didn’t do “alone” well. Even though I had great friends, and a strong support system, I was looking for my self-esteem in places I was never going to find it. I didn’t sleep around, I was careful how many men I gave myself too, but the quality of their souls is a different story. It took me years to filter through the mistakes I made, and apply it to my future.
I still can’t say that my judgement of character is in a great position. People are so manipulative, seeing them for what they are can take years. Even the “good, christian men” I’ve met, are hypocrites. I often think that being alone is part of my destiny, and that does not necessarily hurt my feelings. I’m currently engaged to be married next year, and I can’t guarantee it’s going to stick. I have a bad habit of waiting for the bottom to fall out, for something irreversible to happen, so I’ll have to walk away.