“Get Mommed”?

Today I was so honest and real. More than I have been in so long. It is not that I was lying, it was more of avoidance. I told my therapist that I am scared and that I do not want her to leave me.

I have always been reluctant to tell people that I do like or even love them. I always feel that I am unlovable and a burden.

Growing up I never had a space of my own and then when I finally sort of got one it was taken away in a house fire. So I guess I sort of have attachment stuff sometimes.

I do think I feel love towards people and from people. I have a real connection with the two boys I nanny for and they are very touchy feely in a positive non-threatening manner. But it scares me.

I do not want to get attached to them but it’s so hard not to, I interact with them more than both of their parents combined. And I do think about what kind of affect I have on them.

When I talk to them, I think about every word so carefully as not to break their sweet innocence. I never tell any child that they are “bad” because frankly what kind of thing could a child do to be labeled as “bad”? Nothing.

Kids are not bad no matter what.

I also cannot stand when adults disrespect children. They are people also and they deserve as much respect as an adult gets regardless of their age.

When the mother I nanny for met my parents the first thing she said was “We love your daughter” and it just makes me terrified. Because I do love being with them too.

I am so jealous that they have a really awesome, loving mom. Something I never had and never will.

Lately it is so hard to refer to the person who gave birth to me as my “mom”.  I saw a tissues commercial about trying out different moms and it sounded like an awesome idea. I just want a different person to call mom.

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3 thoughts on ““Get Mommed”?

  1. This can be a tough one . . . the “danger” of being emotionally connected with someone . . .

    There is a risk . . . and there is a challenge in choosing with whom to connect . . . but, I’m learning it is worth the risk if I take my time to choose wisely.

    I encourage you to keep trying . . .

    I’m proud of you for working your way through this . . .

    – Marie (Coming Out of the Trees)

  2. I understand the jealousy. I am often jealous of my own children a bit. They have in me what my mother didn’t provide. I totally turned the tables in my own parenting. My children are told I love them, they know I enjoy spending time with them, I support them as individuals, and most different from my own mother—I hug them and read to them and freely show appropriate affection. Sometimes I will have one in my lap as I read to them and my heart tries to imagine what it is like for them—how awesome cozy it must feel. I am not jealous in a bad way, as I am sure you are not. I just wish I could’ve had the same upbringing—a safe, loving, caring, protective relationship.

    Lothlorien

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