. Today is the birthday of the kid who is okay with his brother nearly killing me because “people make mistakes,” but not okay with me for being broken after what happened. Until that I did not truly regret meeting my ex-husband because I had my children as a result, but when today’s birthday boy looked me in the eye and said he loved and respected his father and brother but not me, then parroted their insults and slurs at me, it broke me and I didn’t just wish I’d never met their father, I wished I hadn’t been born my own self.
Pensive Birthday wishes to my Middle Child. You did what even your father and brother failed to do with their fists, kid: you broke me so badly I stopped even trying to put myself back together again, and took your little brother’s mom from him.
The fucked up part is that if I had the money I still would have bought you Walking Dead and Stranger Things shirts today, because all I ever wanted was for you to be happy, even at the expense of my own wellbeing (I just don’t have any left to give).
I hope you spend at least a little time today, on the anniversary of the day I gave you birth, thinking about whether what you have instead of me in your life is worth what you did to the only parent who wanted you to be born to get it, because I read something today that reminded me of you:
Figure One: So what about a table with two misogynistic woman-beaters, and more importantly what does that make the guy who sits down every night for dinner with them and drags his little brother along with him? Besides fourteen as of today?
Do better. Start now.