I decided to allow my eldest to read my book. I needed to explain things that would allow her to come to her own decisions without making the same mistakes I had. I wanted to give her the gift of my experiences. And she wanted to know what I wrote. I allowed her.
Once I handed over the book, I felt a little bit frightened. I wanted to take it back but I let it be. She read it quietly, I never saw her with it until she was about half way through. She seemed to be doing well. The second half of my book is a bit more difficult for me than the first, yet I wasn’t going to take it from her. I just didn’t know quite what to expect. Love? Hate?
I didn’t know which way it would fall when she learned more about me, my secrets, my past. Today she took my book to work. She came home early. Tears. Sobs. My heart was breaking as I held her. She let me hold her as we both stood and cried. I knew it would be difficult. I was right. She is strong enough and she needs to know.
I’m an open book now. Literally. Our relationship is strengthening more than I could imagine. I regret she hasn’t finished the book yet, there’s more terrible things to come before things turn around. However, we’ve both decided she should continue reading it at home.
This was yet another step for me facing my fears. I love my children like I love myself. They will be better for having a mom like me. My how I’ve changed over the last couple of years! I once said I loved only my kids, not myself. I once thought I should die so they could have a better mom.
When I started all of this I never imagined I’d be the person I have become. I never imagined I would be able to hold my head high and yet have the past that I have. How can this be? I surprise even me.
thank you for reading,