I worked hard to build a home. Not a house, but a home. All in hopes that it would be filled someday with joy and love and the magic of loving family all around me.
So much to hope for, I realize. But what actually happened is that I created a soft landing for my step-sons at varying times in their young adult lives. While I have longed for someone to call me Mommy, for someone to think I am their everything, I sit here in tears with the brutal realization that my dream will never become reality.
Weeks, and months, and years have passed. The love I have to give is still there. I am not saving it up for a rainy day. I am spending it on everyone around me. But what I feel is that my supply is not being replenished. Expecting adult children to be able to show the love and appreciation that I need, is futile. And selfish.
Why am I so focused on what I need? How I feel? What I am missing?
I don’t know! But what I do know is that it is excruciatingly painful at times. The unfulfilled expectations and feelings of insignificance are taking over my world right now.
I am a strong, smart, generally positive woman. But today, I am small. I am nearly invisible. I am empty. And I live here.