YOU HATE ME.

I don't know even know where to begin as this weekend was a weekend to remember. Let's start with the word Hate. 

"I hate my parents, especially Her."

The her in that message was referring to yours truly. I can't even describe how I felt when I read that message. 

"I'm doing all that I can, and I don't think she even cares rather I live or die." 

Words from my husband about our teenage daughter. Now, to hear my daughter say she hates me...hurt....but to hear my husband...knowing all the struggles he's gone thru to be there and provide the best for his children, was like a dagger to my heart.  Better yet my husband, was so hurt that he didn't even want to talk about it....so I became angry with him. I'm like not talk about it...all the pissyness in the air ...urgh! So many things went thru my head on that Friday...one. I need to get out of this house... too much negative energy....two. who can I call to be around that provide soothing.... yes all that.

You know it amazes me that in that moment, the person I wanted to be around most, was my mother. I just wanted to be held like a child...no words just a presence...but she couldn't be reached...and then I always question ..can I bare my soul without it traveling around robin hood's barn. Sorry, but my mother can't keep her mouth if her life depended on it lol. So next in line were my sisters...one out of town having a blast and the other had just gotten home from work. My sister who was coming home from work..ehhh...she's known to everyone for being a savior and providing just what you need....but i felt guilty....i'm coming to realize I really don't like burdening people with my woes...and I didn't want my sister to exert energy just coming from work. So I chose to go over my grandmother's house....no matter what, my grandmother doesn't have to say a thing...me seeing her is strength. On the way to her house...I cried. I've never wanted to be hated and it hurts to see my husband hurting and my daughter hurting amongst everything else going on in our house. I just cried.  I never pictured my family like this. I allowed it all just to come out. I allowed myself to be angry and then I returned to my house. Sat in the driveway for a while, but I went back in.

Now in my moment, I would have never foresaw what would happen the next day. I was still hurt and angry; however, I got up at 7 am and did my shopping. For some reason grocery shopping brings me joy and is a stress reliever....I have no idea why. When I returned,  my husband, my daughter, and I had a talk. I prayed that God would give me the words to truly be honest and express my feelings.  My husband shared his hurt with her. I shared with her how I was doing the best that I could. I told her that it hurt to hear her say that she hated me when I wanted nothing but the best for her.  I shared with her that we want her to have fun yet we still have standards. Instead of saying, don't hate me...I gave her permission to hate me. I also shared with her that I would not be changing...I want the best for her and know her potential and what she is capable of.... I told her that if her goal was to hurt me....she succeeded. I am hurt...and I leave to cry and try to get myself together at times....and come back to do what I need to do for my family. At the end of the day, I can't stop pushing her or any of my other children. I just can't, especially knowing I have to stand before God and give an account of how I trained and or didn't train my children. I told her just that...go on and hate me....but I'm not going anywhere. I'm not getting a divorce. I'm not gonna not hold you accountable...i may have to cry from your treatment or whatever..but I'mma be right here.  I did tell her that I would be trying to speak more softly instead of so firm....thats what I'm working on. I can't believe I said all that.

I have no idea where that vulnerability came from but I said it and I meant it...and most of all I said it in a warm and soft tone . That evening my husband and I got a letter. She told me that she was sorry and that she did try to hurt me because I married her father.....but she also thanked me for never giving up on her. It was signed, your daughter. When I got that letter, I can't even express the joy and the tears....i was already in the midst of doing Zumba....but an entire new dance took over. One filled with kicks and tears....and moves ....it was a dance of victory. I couldn't choreograph that dance even if I tried.

I have no words...other than God is awesome. I'm new to this parenting thing....all the twists and turns..but God isn't.  The shell is breaking.....and i'm trusting God with my vulnerability. Its His job to protect me.