Bittersweet

A lot of my friends have been asking me what is wrong and some have gone so far as saying I am different since I got a boyfriend and honestly maybe I have. I know being in a relationship means I am not available 24/7 anymore, but this is more about me prioritizing my goals. I have been working really hard on sleep, self care and hitting my career goals. A good friend said to me today we’re always carrying something with us wether it be a bag of feathers or a bag of rocks. Which one are you carrying and what can we do about it to lighten the load?

I have been carrying multiple bags of rocks my entire life and ever since I got sober I have been unloading the rocks and replacing them with feathers. Unfortunately I have many rocks to get rid of still so all I ask is be patient. I find I spread myself thin and as a change maker I have many people watching me for guidance and support in their journeys and I love that!! It is why I do what I do, but my friends need to understand that as well. How do I keep 100 relationships going strong? Well in an ideal world I would have monthly meet ups with everyone at once, but life is rarely ideal and it requires discipline and choices.

As for that sack of rocks I have been hanging onto…… I am not different, however I am still grieving many things. Yes, I have jumped huge obstacles lately but they do not heal instantaneously. I still mourn my childhood and struggle with letting go. The idea of my step father living without any repercussions of molesting not only myself but other children devastates me. It makes me incredibly sad because how many others live in this fear? I know he can’t hurt me anymore, but it affects my life in ways like driving through Langley worried he will be at the next stop light. I also grieve the idea of having a mother. I feel empty not having these simple relationships. I’m forever grateful I found my biological father, but to have someone who’s been there for me since a child is missing.

Today I drove through New West on my way to a breakfast meeting and it hit me. My aunt was pretty much my mom growing up. A solid ten years older than me she was always told to bring me along when she would go out. When she got her first car I was there, when my grandma bought her first apartment I stayed there every weekend and when her son was born I was there a lot his first few years of life. Throughout the years we had our spats but they never lasted long. When I lost custody of my kids she took them on. She was the only one who believed the truth about my step dad molesting me. She was my fucking everything. She was my family. She never judged me. She always had my back! Then it happened. I made a choice not out of loyalty but respect. My children were not only raised by her but her husband at the time. My oldest couldn’t rely on her coming to his birthday dinner and instead invited his uncle (her ex husband) to his party. I posted pictures and noticed the very next day my aunt was gone. Blocked on fb, instagram and she even changed her phone number. I emailed even; to no reply. It has been one year and almost 6 months since this happened. Devastated. Abandoned. Lonely. Sad. Angry. What happened to my tribe before I got sober? What happened to my tribe that were there for me through my marriage breakdown? What changed? I know I can’t expect everyone to be by my side all the time just like I can’t make everyone happy at all times.

I have some big events coming up and I lost my momentum, so as I focus now on getting prepared for big things I plan on keeping that momentum going this time. Full steam ahead baby!!!!!

Here is a picture from this morning. That nostalgic moment when I drove over the Patulla Bridge and saw my aunts first apartment. She was 21 and her bedroom was plastered in posters like Def Leppard, Bon Jovi and those old school velvet posters. I spent many weekends there eating junk food and watching movies. She met her first husband during this time and he would cook me weird concoctions like hot dog and fried egg sandwiches. It was these times I felt safe and protected from my parents, yet I was not a child. I may have been 11 but I was steadily surrounded by young behaviours and lots of pot smoking. I grew up fast, but thats the easy part. The hard part is the emptiness I feel from the abandonment of my family that I need for support.

I am grateful for those who have entered my life recently and for the ones that are still with me. Those few who call for a lunch at least twice a year mean the most. It is not the quantity of time that matters but the quality of it.

XX

Badass Bon