Perception

I confess. I hate Facebook (FB). Yet, I check it 20 friggin’ times a day. All these people and their happy lives with their happy kids and their happy vacations, it’s hard not to compare your own life with what you see on the newsfeeds. “That should be me at the restaurant; that should be me wearing that new outfit; that should be me at the beach; that should be me announcing I’m pregnant; that should be me buying a home.” But none of those are me because of the situation I married into, not knowing that in a year of marriage we’d be faced with legal and financial issues that would be beyond our control for years to come. Part of me feels cheated and resentful that my life didn’t go in the direction I had dreamed it would go, and part of me knows life isn’t fare and those things I dreamed of were maybe not meant for me to have. It makes me sad. How could it not? So if I sound bitter, then yeah, maybe I am. So instead of me posting about vacations, houses, babies and the like, I get to post about my cat. Listen, if I have to sit there and look at pics of your kids clogging my newsfeed every time I check my FB then you can do me the same favor and look at my cat and act like you like it, damn it!

I’m guilty of it, comparing my life to those happy robots on FB. I mean seriously, how can anybody be that damn happy all the time? I shouldn’t compare myself but it’s easy to fall into that way of thinking. Most of the time people inspire me on FB and other times they depress me. I have to remind myself that all we see on FB is one side…the happy boastful side. We don’t see the screaming kids, the fights, the messy homes, the moms pulling their hair out. Our “perception” is that the Joneses have it all together because they’re not showing their “moments of shame”. Pull that curtain back further and then the whole story becomes more colorful and true. Everyone has drama in their life, some are better at not showing it…unlike me. FB asks “How do you feel?” Really? Someone out there really gives a hoot how I feel? Can I be honest? WELL I’M EFFING MISERABLE because I’m mourning the life that I won’t have and try to forget about but constantly get REMINDED of it thanks to the ‘happy people’ on FB!” (Sigh...) Well, as a Stepmom dealing with constant Parental Alienation, I find it a bit difficult to keep from posting about the hell I’m dealing with at that moment. It seems like FB is a perfect outlet to voice how I feel, right? But I quickly find out that no, you can’t post anything like that on there or else you get looked down upon, judged, and ridiculed. But I post my 5 minutes of shame anyway and my husband finds out, gives me that look of disapproval, and I feel remorse. I don’t want to be one of those people who “air out their dirty laundry”. But, GUILTY! So, I soon follow it with the press of a button and it’s gone… and I’m left wondering who all witnessed my moment of weakness.

No, I’m not a drama queen. I’m just not good at hiding my feelings. I don’t think of myself as a loose cannon, despite what you might think right now. I can only hold in so much before I break. Even the strong people need their moment to cry. I sometimes wish I was the kind of person I used to be, more controlled and unexpressive. When I turned 23 that all changed. For years I’d keep my mouth shut and smile no matter how many daggers flew at me. I “just took it” and didn’t bother with confrontation. I figured if people wronged me then somehow I must have deserved it. I later learned I didn’t deserve it; I just let people manipulate me. Keeping it all buried eventually turned into anxiety. But these days as an adult, I find that as a professional I have to work hard at keeping that poise and silence I once had. When dealing with my personal life, however, I’m a bit more unreserved. When I moved away from home to the big city I figured out quickly I didn’t have to take that crap lying down. I’m free to think and do as I feel and no one has control over me but me and my own conscience. I don’t mean I think I’m free to run naked and wild through the Wal-Mart. It means I’m free to make my own decisions as an adult, be accountable to myself, voice my own opinions without worry of someone getting pissed off and giving me the silent treatment, and not have to answer to people who don’t have my best interest at heart anymore. I used to keep things wrapped up inside and later learned after all my heart health issues that it wasn’t healthy to do that. And in order to have a healthy marriage I’m supposed to communicate. So I’ve mastered the art of talking about it. Thank goodness I married my best friend. (Poor guy.)

It’s funny how our memories can lie to us. We subconsciously choose to remember certain things and forget the others. And most times what we remember becomes glorified into being something it really wasn’t… but we “want” to believe it. For example, after returning from my Stepmom conference this summer, I immediately got off the plane and drove up to attend a family get-together. The discussion about “Perception” was still marinating in my mind. I’m having a conversation with my stepsister and she suddenly brings up something that happened many years ago that I find still rubs me a bit raw. How she remembers it is not how I remember it. Her perception is that she was “helping” me. It’s funny because that’s not at all how I recall it. She had an agenda and succeeded, as she did many times before. I was humiliated and made to look bad, and to make a long story short, she got what she wanted because I didn’t know how to defend myself and refused to get down on her level. As uncomfortable as I was listening to her talk about her “helping” me back then, I kept my mouth shut. The word “Perception” rang loud and clear in my head and all I could tell myself is this is how she chooses to remember that incident. Fine, I’ll give her that one for now, but I know the truth. I choose to let it go because I love her, regardless…. I choose to forgive, but forget is not something I can do.

So, what does any of this have to do with me being a Stepmom? Not really a damn thing. I just wanted to blog about “perception”.