Insecurities

For Transparency Tuesday I’m going to let y’all in on an internal battle I’ve been fighting recently. Although I am #BloomingUnapologetically and have undergone much healing, there are still wounds that are tender. I’m brave enough to admit that I am battling some insecurities. Believe it or not it's not about my body image or self perception, the specific wound I want to uncover today is my trust in men. Now I want to qualify what I mean. Do I think all men are dogs, no. Do I think it is impossible to be honest and faithful, no. All I’m saying is that I haven’t seen any of my ex’s and the devil in the same room. I’m joking but you get the gist. I merely haven’t had many positive experiences with men and in order to generate positive experiences I have to be open to them. This is my point. I swear I’m open but I’m really not. The simple thought makes me retreat with my white flag up. The thought of trusting someone again scares me. Like literally gives me anxiety. I become distant. I may even run away. I realize this is a problem and this is me openly admitting it. Now one thing I know from experience is to overcome fears you have to openly address them. I know there is no way to conquer this or get on the other side of the mountain except to go through it. This is where my analytical mind is getting the best of me. There are too many what ifs and unanswered questions. I literally would have to take a gamble with my heart and pray I don’t come up with the short end of the stick again. That is where the letter I posted on IG last night stemmed from. I was in that moment, writing to my future soulmate letting him know the battles I am fighting to get to him.

Brey’s Pain. My Fatherless Child.

I’m going to be real transparent right now. There is one thing that bothers me from my divorce. It's a pain that I try and ignore and today I was required to address it. Breydan woke me up routinely with his morning cuddles. He told me good morning, he loved me and that I was beautiful all while laying on my back, cheek to my cheek and his arms around my neck. I think that was him prepping me for the blow he was about to dish out. He saw my phone on the edge of my bed, sat up and asked me if we can call his “bald headed daddy.” That is what he calls my soon to be ex husband. Caught off guard and wanting to retreat under my covers, the first time he asked, I ignored him. The second time he asked I looked around for my sister who usually comes to rescue me and divert his attention when he asks questions like this but she was in the shower. The third time he asked I finally mustered up the courage to address him. I told him that daddy and I are no longer together. That we weren’t going to be married anymore and he won’t be coming back. That’s when he hit me with the punch in my throat, figuratively, but might as well have been real. With sadness in his eyes he asked me if he was still his daddy and for that I could only answer, only if he wants to be.