I did it. I didn’t want to. I didn’t feel ready. But I did it.
I finally met with my mom after over 5 years of not seeing her. Needless to say, it has been a very emotional couple of weeks.
Of course I was nervous, anxious, and scared. I had spent the last few years dealing with a lot of issues, coming to terms with things, and rebuilding my life. I was finally in a positive and happy state-of-mind which I had worked so hard at. Was I really willing to jeopardize all of it and possibly let back in the negative aspects of my former life…one of the main reasons behind why I was scarred and broken?
I kept asking myself if I was insane. Albert Einstein defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Was I crazy to even think about extending my hand out, yet again, to someone who has hurt me time and time again? What made me think that things would be different this time around and that all of a sudden, she would come around and be a loving, kind mother? All of it made me uncomfortable and vulnerable.
What I realized was that the thought of meeting with her or speaking with her would always make me feel uncomfortable and vulnerable. But at some point, I was going to have to speak with her. I couldn’t deny her forever. Well, I could but then I wouldn’t be able to live with myself because that’s just how I am. No, she probably didn’t change much with old age but I had to give it a try and go at it with optimism just so I would know that I tried. Alas, against my better judgment, I went to visit my mom.
I can’t even explain the emotions that ran through me as I was at the front door. I wanted to turn around and leave but that would just prolong the inevitable.
It wasn’t the best meeting. It could have gone better if she didn’t fall back to old habits and start a fight with me. Although I left not in good spirits, I did not leave crying and broken. I knew I was much stronger than that and yes, it wasn’t the ideal scenario but at least I had taken the first step and gotten through it.
That’s what it’s really all about…taking baby steps. Having hope. Treading lightly. Only going as far as you can handle or as it makes you comfortable. For me, that was spending an hour with my estranged mother and I was ready to get out of there. But at least I made an effort and it was a step in the right direction. Maybe eventually I would get there, but that day was not the day. Baby steps. It is a journey after all…