Day 3: Something You Have to Forgive Yourself For
I’m family oriented. I’m also quite domestic. I like to bake, I like to clean, emptying the sink of dishes makes me feel like I’ve succeeded. I like to buy gifts and prepare for the holidays. I love preparing a meal for my family.
I love showing the people I love, that I love them.
So, then, why would I leave home to go to NYC alone?
I’m torn. I miss my family. I miss being around them, I miss being able to help them out when they needed. I like being there when my little sister needs someone to pick her up at college and take her home, or to just give my mother a hug.
I feel guilty that I’m missing crucial moments in my god-daughter’s life. She’s not even two yet, and I’ve already missed almost 4 months of her life, nevermind the fact that when I was living within ten minutes of her, I worked constantly to save money and afford all of the things that I like to buy – which is a lot of things.
I feel like a bad god-mother for working so much, for missing so much, for moving to NYC. When I was asked to be her god-mother my eyes brimmed with tears. I felt so lucky, so blessed.
The day she was born, I realized that I would never understand the love of a mother until I became one. When I held her in my arms, snuggled into my chest, my heart felt so full I thought it would burst out of my chest. I knew that the way I felt was nothing compared to how my cousin felt for her little bundle of warmth.
So I feel guilty, every day. Guilty for working, for never seeing her, for not making more time for her, for leaving and moving to another state, a 5-hour bus ride away.
On top of that, I’ve left my mother, my brother, my little sister, my dogs, my best friends.
I feel just like my father. I know that I’m not my father, but I feel like I did the same thing he did.
I hate that I left, but I won’t turn around and go home. I am happy doing what I’m doing, but I miss my family and friends more than words. When I see how much my lil girl grows every day, it blows my mind. She’s growing so fast!
So I suppose at some point I’ll forgive myself for leaving them, and that may be the point that I come home. I am not sure when I will forgive myself for leaving, for following my own dreams. I feel selfish, but I also feel like it’s something I have to do, for me.
I love my family. I miss my family, and I’m so sorry for leaving them. Whenever I get a phone call from my little sister who misses me or my mother who’s upset and lonely, or my best friend, who I’d give anything to grab a pint with, I feel so guilty for leaving them. I feel like I’ve abandoned them.
So, I guess that’s what I need to forgive myself for. For leaving the people I love the most. For not being there when things go wrong. For not being there when things go right.