laundryandsoul

I have a Master’s Degree. I was ambitious. I checked every box and worked harder than anyone I knew. I came from nothing and worked so hard to BE something. And I did all I was supposed to. Get good grades in high school. Go to college. Then get a job. Then get married. Then have the kids. Then– what? Be a mom. Have a career. Be a wife.

And forget you were ever you.

The last part they didn’t tell us about.

That husband will require you care for him and work hard for him. He chose you because you are independent and he won’t care for you. He acted like he cared and did all the things to get you to marry him because he was told he should growing up. And he’s selfish. He did what he needed to get what he wanted. And it stopped once he had you and he could stop working so hard.

Here it goes. I have had this in my mind for almost a year. I’ve known I needed to “tell my story,” whatever that means. I feel like I am a bubbling well of tales and emotions with nowhere to go. I boil over from time to time, it spills out, slides down the hill, wastes away right back into the earth. No one knows, no one cares. Some may complain about the old well and how annoying it is and to stay away. Everyone likes it best when they can take the water they need, move on with it, and forget it exists until their next need.

My needs are unimportant.

These days I do the laundry. I cook the dinner. I get the kids to and from their things. I keep the family schedule. I gave up my career so my husband could pursue his and my family’s needs could still be met. I clean the house. No housekeeper here because although my husband works the hours of someone who should make triple what he does, he chose a path that doesn’t pay much. But, it’s his passion.

He’s gone all day and sits in front off his computer and the television and drinks all night.

I lean into my kids because they are my joy. I create a happy life for them despite my unhappiness because they truly mean more to my than I do myself. Don’t say, “Just leave.” There are no financial means to.

As I write this and am set to hit publish, soon my family will be home. I am in the same clothes I had on when they left. Nowhere to go, no need to shower yet, no one to see. My day has been spent caring for their needs. Am I depressed? Probably. No time to consider it. But, I told mysef I have to finally do this today.

I promise at least one post a week. Maybe more. I do have dreams for this. But I have had a lot of dreams roll on by me. Wishes unfulfilled. Hard work not paid off. I had to start here. I’m forcing myself to do something for me.

I know I’m not alone. So, let’s gather. Welcome.