Coparenting

Imagine you are on a group project with one other person.

The project requires a significant investment of your time, energy, and money.

In order to be successful, this project needs intentional thought, consideration, planning, and flexibility.

Your partner turns out to be unreliable and you find yourself spending more of your time and resources then previously agreed upon because the other party is not meeting their half of the responsibilities. The project’s success is as significantly important as life or death so you keep pouring into it, not knowing where you will find more resources and time – and it’s an endless cycle of feeling almost spent but somehow you keep investing. You keep pouring.

When you attempt to address your partner’s lack of support, they gas light you. They will say things like, “You wanted this project, remember?” For a while, you might even gaslight yourself into thinking, maybe I just need to give my partner more space, support, attention, positive reinforcement. If I bend more, jump through more hoops, show them I can be the bigger person – possibly they will start contributing more. This never works and you are faced with the realization that you can either allow resentment to poison your life or you can let it go. But your truth is still valid, so you continue to speak up when necessary, but never as often as you are entitled to.

When the gaslighting doesn’t work, they start to tell anybody who will listen how you won’t let them help. It’s all your fault that they don’t pull their weight.

Your partner shows up once in a while, mostly unannounced, though you had previously planned out a schedule of when each of you should contribute. You do your best to avoid unnecessary confrontation knowing they lie, manipulate, and throw giant tantrums when you hold to your boundaries, but your boundaries must remain regardless. It’s all you have left and it is part of the foundation to the peace you have created with your project.

And somewhere around once a month, you might also get messages from your partner along the lines of, “I miss working with you.” Or “are you bringing other people around MY project?” “How come we don’t talk anymore?” “I want time with my project right now!” You will have lots of missed calls on your call log because you don’t answer anymore. Life is easier when “collaboration” has a written receipt of what was said. This goes on for months and months, maybe years.

Then they post a photo here and there of your project, without giving any credit to your efforts, boasting at how well it’s coming along.

Welcome to coparenting with a narcissist.

Burn the Boat

A few things I’ve learned over the past year:

If you are the smartest person in the room, then you are in the wrong room.
You are enough.
There’s always room for improvement.
Letting go is the path to peace.
Manifesting is real. Intentions and thoughts create your reality.
Your intuition is always right for your path.
Burn the boat.

This is a friendly reminder that people can only love you at the capacity that they love themselves. If you are like me and have ever had to hear the person you thought was your forever, lie to you, cheat, give up, or say you weren’t worth it – then I hope you know they couldn’t see you because they were blinded by their own inadequacies. When a person blocks their own blessings through negativity, laziness, self loathing behavior, lack of boundaries, or narcissistic tendencies, just know that your presence in their life may be a blessing that is also blocked. A person’s opinion of your worth is only as valuable as you make it. The weakest type of person is one that chases their identity in other people.

If you ever find yourself sharing space with a person or people that don’t recognize your innate beauty and value, and don’t respect your boundaries, just know that same person or people also probably lack the integrity to treat themselves with dignity and respect. It is my advice that you leave any situation or person that makes you feel less than. If your significant other or group of friends aren’t constantly talking AND then acting on improvements to your relationship, their quality of life, and quality of character then leave them behind. It is not your responsibility to create peace in someone else.

Every single one of my exes are where I left them. Still complaining, still making excuses, still struggling. I would be right there as well if I believed the horrible things that were said about me as a reaction to me holding them accountable for their behaviors and holding to my boundaries.

It’s no coincidence that since committing to myself, I’ve got my mojo back. I’m peaceful. I laugh everyday. I’m happy even when things get tough. Adversity is welcome. I’ve been promoted twice in less than a year. My yearly income has increased by over 50%. I’m working on my own business. Success has come in many unexpected ways. My relationships with friends and family are better than ever. My boundaries are stronger. I’m confident. My kids are happier and better behaved. I travel. I dance. I eat. I live. I ascend.

It’s giving Peter Pan vibes.

Dear He Who Must Not Be Named,

The last child support payment I received was for a small portion of your monthly obligation, 4 months ago.

You’ve been on multiple vacations, ran into my brother-in-law while golfing, out-of-state trips, and to the bar most every night for the past six months.

Our son’s needs will never be prioritized before your wants. Just a few more years of this, before our child realizes you’re a fraud.

Then you will have nobody left who believes in you.

Every child, every baby mama, every girl worth a damn, every friend that doesn’t share your appetite for self destruction and alcohol will see your mask for what it is. The facade that screams you need attention to survive: the weakest kind of man.

It’s giving dusty vibes.

I wonder if the mirror lies to you as much as you do to others. Or does the truth echo, “I’m a narcissist.”, when you stare back?

Yesterday, you expressed that you were having a hard time coping with being a single parent. You said, “You don’t know what it’s like having to do it all alone.”

Can you imagine?

I thrive away from you. Your energy and outlook on life are incomprehensible.

I can not wish you the best, though I do wish you far away. Allow me to save our child from your burning house.

At least the alcoholism will likely rob you of longevity. A mercy.

Whispers of “I can”

Now.

The world inside of me now reflects.

Great changes.

I am peace and chaos. Life speeds up as it slows down.

Every “yes” an adventure.

Every “no” a shift.

Firmly spent. I cash it in at sunrise each day.

I float where once I might have stumbled.

Light rushes in at all moments. A smile not a hard thing.

Freedom and dance.

Songs living in my chest.

Things are happening, now. Great things.

Sprouted from a seed of gratitude.

Soiled in whispers of “I can”.

Watered with new beginnings. Sun shining upon its place.

Karmic debt has been paid.

Now. Lives in each breath.

Now.

Freshly dressed in hope and confidence.

Resolve to better. I let the wind take some things.

Fathers Can Leave

If a man were to say to me that he was wanting to be a father, I would encourage him. “Children are a joy. Their innocence gives hope.”

If you were my sister, however…and for that matter a woman at all, I would give you something more fair in response. I would like to tell you that if you choose to be a mother at all, do it under the assumption that you will be a single mom. I would like to say, dear god choose yourself instead because over here isn’t for the faint of heart. Alternatively, I would probably lead with a story of how I almost let Walmart take my dignity and sanity, again. Shopping with children is the worst. Especially when you are shopping on a nearly broken budget. Telling you the truth in a parable. Don’t be an idiot, I will passively declare.

I would never try to teach you the presence that my child’s smile brings or how hugs from babies who need you are the best.

I wouldn’t lead with how my children save my life.

I would just share with you on how they steal it. Little thieves of time.

I tell you that you must choose the worst or nothing at all. You must be all in. The price is your dreams and your youth.

If your heart still calls for motherhood when you rationalize how bad it can and probably will get, then I say, “Children are a joy. Their innocence gives hope.”

Solution Driven Mindset – Moving Toward Joy

Dear Self,

I must always go in the direction of joy.

Minor setbacks, obstacles, and inconveniences are – at the end of the day – just tasks that must be completed. If I could just look at each task as an end unto itself, and not the building blocks to a bigger conspiracy theory, then I would be at peace while handling those tasks. I must remember to be grateful for what I can do. Being lazy and letting tasks go unfinished is not a good indication that I am grateful.

I should know that I must do everything I can to cultivate peace and prosperity in my life. Not prioritizing that is madness. I must always go in the direction of joy. This pertains to everything in life. A clean kitchen brings me joy, so I must clean it. While doing the task of cleaning, I cannot allow myself to feel bitter about spending my time on that task, even as other tasks call for my attention. In this mindset, it is actually madness to hate doing the dishes, or folding laundry, or bringing calm to your child who cries when it isn’t most convenient for you. The correct response is to feel gratitude. Gratitude that the dirty dishes were a result of consuming delicious food and laundry a result of having clothes to wear. Being able to bring calm to your crying child is proof that your presence is important, your body a temple. To leave those tasks, without completion, brings anxiety. Peace cannot be found in a dirty home.

This applies to my opinions of other people, places, and things. Can I stop attaching negative feelings to life experiences? If my ex doesn’t show up for our child or if my son used seven different cups to drink milk today, it is not proof that my life is terrible. It can only overwhelm me if I allow it to. If I could just release the anger and resentment, I would be able to identify things as being a neutral experience. I can let go because no other way will serve me. Now I can look at every reaction, every question, every experience and answer it with, “What action or reaction will make me most joyful? Most grateful? Most at peace?” Once I indentify what next move will bring me the most joy and peace, I must act. This allows me to let go of any situation and be non-committed to the end results.I am only focused on the tasks. One task at a time. One action, one move, one step at a time – and always towards joy and peace. Should the results be unfavorable, I can look at it as a task and again move towards joy in completion. Though soon this process guarantees mostly good days, months, and years. Happiness must exist because it is chosen.

Love You Forever

I’m still in love with you. I may have to bear that cross for the rest of my life. But, what I won’t do is give you even one more opportunity to prove to me that you lack the capacity to love and honor me to the level and consistency that I deserve. You may not be able to comprehend my value, but I know it. And I will NEVER allow you to make me forget that again. I will not dishonor my divine power as a woman just because you choose to disregard your responsibilities as a man. I will continue to chance living each day with a broken heart – being separate from you – because, while it’s almost unbearable, it is still less painful than the disrespect you’ve shown me. For the rest of my life, my answer to you will be “no”. I choose me. My boundaries and what I deserve will not be compromised for, even if it means losing the person I love most.

I Loved A Narcissist Once

Our love stopped time for me.

There’s always going to be a “before”

and an “after”.

Paradoxically “after” is the present moment.

Therefore having let you go means that you presently monopolize my life experience.

You are no more gone than the sun during a thunderstorm-

my hope the sunlight and your presence the chaos.

Removed now in the cruelest way, part of me gone but not carried within you.

As if it cannot exist inside of a foreign vessel.

I had to kill that piece of me to be free of you,

now I live free but my soul is…different.

Nobody understands the cost before it’s paid,

I will never love again without pausing first at any potential lover’s claims.

I grew back but wasn’t as full as I had been.

I wonder if I’m even making sense -trying to explain what hell life is, having loved a dead thing.

A hope given up intentionally but not willingly.

Gravity feels heavier,

the atmosphere harder to walk through.

Every interaction costs me.

It’s cruelly comical that “after” feels a lot like the space before it,

Misery and confusion – a dark cloud ruling it’s sky.

The deepest truth is no matter this pain,

It was worse pain to be with you.

I was alone more in your arms

than I’ve ever felt crying the toxins from my wounds.

You never knew my dreams,

Or how my heart leapt at library ladders and how the smell of an old book was my favorite.

You didn’t know my preferences after years together,

And your attention was so cheap, any woman could have it.

You didn’t read my poetry.

You never cared to know me any deeper than what my existence meant to your comfort.

You did not learn me outside of you.

Though I knew you better than yourself.

This is perhaps why “after” isn’t so hard for you,

You don’t know what you lost and I will forever.

I walk differently after the disrespect I paid myself,

having questioned my worth in your rejection.

I move slower because every action must be accounted for if I’m never to find myself

in that space again.

A space that was anything but spacious –

suffocating and alive.

Things taste different and peace

is bought with deliberate intention.

So far, I haven’t found a romantic love outside of myself that can exist

in the space that peace creates.

I wonder if peace feels different for those

that found it blindly than for ones like me –

who had to die for it.

Honestly, I can’t tell if this is peace

or disassociation at it’s finest.

It matters not as I claim this space for myself -and never for us.

What matters is that I continue in spite of it all.

I continue.

I continue on.

Burden

There’s this space in my chest

that fills me.

Existing heavily and thoroughly.

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep

making me crazy.

My body existing around the abyss,

paradoxically consumed by its essence.

Inside of me but not of me.

Of me, but my dreams are not part of the recipe.

My dreams absorbed or worn like skin, but just the beginnings survive.

The ends may yet live in the blackness or just beyond it.

Inside of my hollow chest is weighted nothingness.

Or inside of the hollow nothingness, I exist?

How can one know if in the abyss?

I’ve never known how to point to something

that was formless.

I cannot wait to breath, yet all I do is wait for the next inhale.

I want silence, but everything screams it’s presence.

I want love but would settle for contempt.

I want peace but would settle for adrenaline.

I want meaning but would settle for the end of it.

Spitting bars about the end of it.

Whispering I just want a friend in it.

Warrior

The thing nobody talks about is how hard the internal fight is.

The glory of the win is sold but the cost is downplayed.

How badly this disappointment fucked me up is not measured by those that advise me.

I pay for the heartbreak in every movement of my limbs. In every decision I’ve made since,

Every interaction now costs me like never before.

Does that make sense to anybody? Or am I just on an island?

I will never be the same girl that I was before the pain.

The dark night of the soul came as a result and I’m forever…different.

I want to say I feel like I’m not whole, but that isn’t quite what I mean.

I mean to say that I am filled with me.

And yet I do not know myself. I am foreign and therefore overwhelmed with this foreign being.

A stranger on to myself.

I keep living for other people, for routines, for the sake of just living.

I work just for the sake of working.

I eat and taste nothing.

I smile and then forget what happiness feels like.

Nothing sticks.

I read books and I intentionally exist. I create.

There is no relief from this existence.

Nobody talks about that struggle.

Nobody tells you it may be forever, or that forever will live in every moment.