Month: March 2020

All week I have avoided writing this. I once heard that whatever you don’t want to write about, what is painful to write about, well that’s what you should write about. So here I go. I sat in church one day. I was by myself as usual. I was finishing up a very painful divorce that took a year. I had three small kids and I was tired. I was lonely. I had an extremely hard time with feeling depressed. I would cry for no reason. I sat there and the pastor said the title of the sermon, “Daddy Issues”. It kind of made me smile because I had been told my entire life that I had daddy issues. I didn’t believe it. I knew something was wrong but I didn’t think it was that. My father died when I was three. He worked at a chemical plant that exploded. He was one of the 17 men that died that day. My mom worked there too. She heard the explosion. She was told he was okay by someone but quickly learned that he wasn’t. I don’t remember a lot from that time. I remember someone bringing us flowers. I remember those flowers being dried out and in a drawer at our house. I remember moving to a new house. That’s about it. I don’t have a lot of memories of my dad. I remember him being in a robe, sitting in a recliner. I remember him driving my sister and I around in a motorized bike at a BBQ. That’s all I remember. I had a terrible Step-dad for a while. Those are the father experiences I have. I hear that my dad was handsome and manly. I’ve also heard he was an ass. I think he was probably all of these things.

My mother was great. She moved us to where there was a good school district. We moved into a beautiful house. She has always had a way of making life beautiful. She was determined to make us all okay. She put us in therapy many times in my life. Some times I did not want to go. I appreciate that she did that now. I grew up with so much. My mom put us in every activity we wanted: gymnastics, cheer, drill team, basketball, horseback riding, piano. I’m sure there are more. We went on vacations every year. She was there for us at every game, school event, every time I was sick, or upset. She jumped up and down with me when I got accepted into college. I did not want for anything while I was growing up. Because of all of this I did not agree when therapists would say I had father issues. “No, I really don’t.” I would say. I never sat around and cried about my dad. Most of the time I didn’t think about it at all. I had a very good life and was taken care of. My sister and I have talked about how we feel guilty for having the issues we have because our life was so great. I don’t want to claim all of these issues when other people have suffered so much worse. Our situation is nothing compared to what other people have gone through. But pain is pain, no matter what it is. So I totally disagreed with the notion of having daddy issues.. until I could not deny it.

I dated the same guy off and on through high school and college. I had just graduated college when we broke up. We had dated for 7 years. I had never really been alone. I did not know how to be alone. I had to keep myself busy. That meant I had to be dating someone. I had to be out with people. The second I was alone I would cry, I would be out of breath. I would call my mom and say “I don’t know what is wrong with me.” Fast forward to my divorce. I would call my mom and say “I don’t know what is wrong with me. I just cry. I’m just sad. I don’t know why.”

So like I said, I was sitting in church and the pastor starts talking about daddy issues. I thought well I probably need to hear this. He starts talking about how some women have a hole in their heart created by the lack of a father. He said some women cant sit in a room alone by themselves without feeling so much pain caused by this. (I teared up writing that). He went on to talk about what the role of a father is supposed to be. Then he explained how God is our father. He loves us. We are children of God. He loves us like a father would love his child. He will never forsake us. He is always with us. He has great plans for us. When the sermon ended I thought, “No, wait! What do I do though?? Please explain what I’m supposed to do!” I wanted to do anything to get rid of that feeling. Sylvia Plath is a poet and author who ended up killing herself by putting her head in an oven. I studied her writing in college and it is dark and super interesting. She wrote a book called The Bell Jar. In that book she describes how she feels like talons grip her heart. My pain was kind of like that.

Through out my life I have jumped from every relationship to another one. I was looking for male validation. That is how I got my self worth. It started in kindergarten with my first crush and kept going until I literally tired myself out like a child. Each time I got into a relationship I was “in love”. Really I was in love with the idea of love. My friends and family knew that in about 4 to 6 months I wouldn’t like the guy anymore. I grew up without a dad. I never saw that relationship of husband and wife. I wanted what I didn’t have. I never had a man tell me I was good enough. I wanted that. I sought for that approval through guys. I did not know who I was growing up. I tried to be what I thought people wanted. I was shallow. I did not feel good enough so I put on a front. I was full of attitude and sarcasm. I was a great actress. So I never discovered who I was, what I liked, what my priorities were. I was too focused on whatever guy I was with at the time. I dated for a while after my divorce. Dating in your late 20s and 30s is the worst! ever! I laugh and cringe thinking about the awful dates I went on. For years I thought, “I’m going to stop dating, only focus on myself, spend all my time with the kids, really spend time in the bible, start volunteering, learn how to be okay alone.” It was a good plan until I met someone else. Eventually, I got tired of dating. Every date was lame, every guy hitting on you and not really caring who you are, a first date where the guy touches you too much. “Don’t like being touched, thank you….” ha. The guy who asked me to meet his mom on the first date. AGH. The guy who sent me an explicit video because he missed me. What happened to sending flowers? Ugh. The guy who got drunk at dinner and tried to feed me. Um no. The guy who told me we would all end up being computers. (slowly walks backwards to get away). The guy who said my tattoo “wasnt that bad”. The guy who you find out isn’t “totally” divorced. The guy who thinks he has a great voice and wont stop singing. The last guy I dated invited me up to the heights for the weekend. Ugh I just didn’t want to. I realized how I was tired from all of it. I broke up with him. I stayed home that weekend. The kids were with their dad and I was alone. I decided that I would do this for at least a year. It ended up being a year and a half. I had my moments of feeling lonely and then they started to go away. Do you know that movie Run Away Bride? Julia Roberts is so unsure of who she really is that she doesn’t even know what kind of eggs she liked. She always just got whatever eggs her boyfriend at the time ordered. My sister said, “That’s you. You have no idea what kind of eggs you like.” She was right. I wanted to find out. I literally made all the different type of eggs one day. I like poached with salsa. It wasn’t literally about eggs though right? So I spent that year hanging out with my sister and brother in law. I went hiking. I went bike riding. I read so many books. I went to therapy.  I took my kids on vacation. I played with them and cooked with them and did art with them. I hung out with my mom. I hung out with my best friends. I prayed, a lot. I got into small group at church and made friends. I started volunteering at church. I worked out. I ran. I took jujitsu classes. I went on road trips alone. I cooked. I went to restaurants alone. I went to movies alone. I went to California and hung out with my brother. I got tattoos. I hiked in the mountains in Puerto Vallarta. I watched classic movies. I decorated my house and planted flowers. I killed the flowers. I drew pictures (I cant draw but it was fun). I read poetry (please read rupi kaur and Amanda Lovelace). I cut my hair super short and then I grew it out and then I got bangs and then I colored it, I played with my dog, Hazel. I went to the beach and read The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck, another great book. I listened to music super loud and danced around the house. I did whatever I wanted with no guy in the background giving his opinion or his itinerary. I grew to love time with myself. Most importantly I grew to love time with God. I tried to open the bible every day. I read this book I Don’t Wait Anymore by Grace Thornton. It is my favorite book now. She talks about sitting in front of God with only the intention of being with God, not because you want something. Her life did not happen like she wanted. She talks about what happened instead. This is the only author I have ever written. She wrote me back and I nerded out a little. I wanted to come to God with only the intention of spending time with him, getting to know him, to be more like him. Our pastor says that when you open the bible, God opens his mouth. This was the case for me. Do I audibly hear him? No. But I know that what I am reading is something meant for me. I feel it as I read it.

I realize now that without a doubt I have daddy issues. I hate that term. I hate admitting that I have them. No matter how great of a job my mother did she could not protect me from that. I missed out on having a dad love me. So I looked for it, it was my way of feeling wanted or valuable. It’s crazy how these childhood issues can shape everything in your life. If I could go back I would focus on myself and what I wanted. I would make God my priority. I would not be that boy crazy girl who searched for validation in all of the wrong places. It took a long time but I am okay now. I don’t feel lonely when I am alone. I actually crave my alone time. I know that no relationship is going to fill that void that I felt almost my entire life. God fixed that. I am engaged now. I started dating him after being single for a long time and being okay with being alone. My relationship with Duane benefits my life in so many ways. I would survive without him though. Luckily I don’t have to. I don’t change who I am with him. I am completely myself, to a fault. We are a team in life and he points me to Jesus over and over. I know who I am now. I know what I stand for and what I believe in. I don’t feel the need to impress anyone or to not act like myself. I know what eggs I like. I know now to whom I belong. I am the daughter of my father in Heaven, a child of God, deeply loved.

This post was important for me to write because I know that there are so many women like me. I don’t pretend to have any answers, just my own story. Hopefully my story helps in some way.

I had just graduated college. My boyfriend at the time invited me to spend the weekend at his ranch. I hope he reads this one day so he can see how he traumatized me. I am laughing while I say that because this is a great guy, just a crazy experience. So we had a great time at the ranch. We spotted animals in the dark and drove a mule around. We hung out with his sister and searched for snakes. It was fun. Then he said, “I want us to go visit my neighbor for a little bit, do you mind?” I said sure and we headed that way. These houses were spread out. We got there and knocked on the door. A very old man came out of his house and we started talking to him. He had sunken eyes and seemed tired. Then he invited us in. My boyfriend smiled a little and I looked at him like “what?” But we just walked in. As soon as we stepped inside the house I was in shock. This man had a coffin set up in his living room. Not just any coffin, but HIS coffin! On the walls above the coffin were pictures of Jesus. The old man was very proud of his coffin that he had picked out. He showed me the lining he had picked out for himself and told me about the colors he picked out. His wife had already died and he was ready to go. He talked about his love for Jesus and he wanted to go to Heaven now. I was young (22) and I was nice but didn’t know what else to say. When we left I’m pretty sure I hit my boyfriend multiple times (in a joking way). Give me a warning man! Looking back I feel sad for that man. I understand a little about depression, how horrible you can feel. Where was his family? Where were his friends? Did he have anyone who would be there for him, to tell him his life was not over. Life can be hard and lonely.. But if we just throw in the towel on this life and build our coffin and wait for death we are missing out on what we could still do in this life. Picking yourself up and finding a way to continue on when you don’t want to is one of the strongest things you can do. I think about meeting Jesus and going to Heaven a lot. I do look forward to it. But I want to use the rest of the life I have left. The older I get the more I see horrible things happen. Wives losing husbands, women losing babies, children passing away, etc. I don’t know what I would do if those things happened to me. I have watched the people I know who have gone through that keep going. And it is inspirational and shows such strength. When I am down I call my sister, or my close friends, or my small group at church. My small group women know me, they let me vent, they pray for me. And I do the same for them. If you feel like you can’t go on reach out to someone. You are important. You are strong. You can get through this. Your life matters. Don’t build your coffin just yet.

When I was 27 years old I got divorced. I had three kids. My daughter was 2 months old. My sons were 1 and 2 1/2. Yes, I had my hands full. We moved out of our 5 bedroom house into a two bedroom apartment. To make sure the babies slept I decided to sleep on the couch. That was my bedroom. I had been a stay at home mom when I was married and during the divorce I started working a 10 and sometimes 12 hour shift at a daycare and the kids went with me. We were still trying to sell the house we had owned so we were paying for that, the new apartment, lawyer fees, and many other bills. One of those bills I was paying was a very!! expensive car note on a very new suburban. I had to find a car that would fit my three small kids. I searched and I found a gold mini van. Yes, I said Gold. I went in to trade my car in. I was upside down on my suburban. Yes, I made many mistakes when I was young but we can get to that later. I remember the owner of the dealership seriously coming out to shake my hand and to tell me how great this car was. I remember thinking, “Relax dude, you are going to get the brand new fully loaded suburban and I am going to leave with the golden mom mobile, so calm down.” All of the papers were being drawn up and I was texting my sister “oh how the mighty have fallen”. She thought that was hilarious. I had always sworn to never drive a mini van. I look back on how stupid and vain I was and am annoyed with myself now. So, I had my mini van and my apartment and time went on. A year later I went on a date. Not just any date. A date with a guy I had pretty much liked since 6th grade. If you know who it is shut your mouth. haha. So we went and had dinner and then he was pulling up to my apartment to drop me off. He said, “Which car is yours?” I said. “that one.” and pointed to my gold minivan. He said, “what? really? That’s unfortunate.”

Honestly, I don’t remember what I said after that. Not many dates happened after that because we were always meant to be friends. He is a nice guy. But I thought about how he said “That’s unfortunate” over and over. That was his perception. But I had a different one. This post started out with me naming all of these hardships that we had as a family, like moving into an apartment and working 12 hour shifts and trading in my car. But I remember other things. first, I remember how much money I saved by doing those things and I feel good knowing I did what I had to do for my family. I did what was right. I also remember showing the kids the new car and how excited they were because it had a dvd player in it. They loved the new car. They yelled “golden!!” at the top of their lungs when we were looking for it in the parking lot. I came to love that car. That was “our car”. It belonged to me and the kids and it was ours. We lovingly called it golden girl.

I remember that apartment we moved into and smile. We left this big house for this small apartment. But the kids got new rooms and new beds. We put our pictures on the walls. We ate breakfast together early in the mornings before we all headed to the daycare at 6am. They ran around the daycare helping me open. When work was over we headed home together to the apartment. We made dinner together, we listened to the radio together, we danced together. Me and my babies, in OUR apartment. There was no chaos, no fighting, just us.

He saw a gold mini van. The dreaded mom mobile. He thought “That’s unfortunate.” But I think about how fortunate or blessed I was to find that car, to get out of that expensive car payment, to spend all of that time with my kids in a healthy environment, to realize what was REALLY important in my life. When I think back on that time it is fondly and always with a lot of pride.

Golden took a turn for the worse and kept on having problems. So many problems. Oh how lovely it was every time it started to smoke, or when it would lock up on me. I especially liked when everything came on. the blinkers, horn, wipers. I couldn’t get any of them to turn off. The day I sold it to Texas direct the guy at the body shop said, ” you will be lucky if you make it there.” I think that was a perfect ending to our hilarious relationship. Even though Golden caused me so many problems, I really was a little sad to see her go. Now we have Betty White. My fiancé, Duane, doesn’t like that I name all of my cars after old women, apparently that’s weird. ha! so him and the kids call it Marshmallow, but we know the truth. We live in a house now but when we drive by that apartment my kids always say they miss it. So do I sometimes.

We all get the point right? Those things in life that seem unfortunate, are they? Or are they unimportant? Trivial? Or, are they exactly what you need? Thanks for reading.

 

  CONTINUED:

My brother in law just sent me a sweet text about the new blog. He reminded me about a great memory with golden girl. My brother in law, Cody, and my sister, Tammy, live in a very nice neighborhood. Their neighbor has lion statues in the front yard, just saying. They have a neighborhood Facebook page that basically blasts anyone for doing anything wrong. It’s mostly wealthy retired people there. So one day I decide to go hang out with them. They live about an hour away from me in Kingwood, TX. I am a few miles away from their neighborhood when I start to hear a dragging sound from under my car. SON OF A !!!!! I think. I pull over and a big black plastic thing is hanging down, dragging on the street. I tried for a while to do anything to stop it from falling down but couldn’t. So there I am driving through their neighborhood. I pull up to their house and they are outside. All anyone can hear is chhhhhh. I can’t help but laugh as I pull up. Cody looks at me and just shakes his head in disapproval and Tammy just laughs. Cody zip ties it to my car and all is well. It stayed fixed until I was driving in Fredericksburg, TX one weekend with my mom and kids. It got ripped off and we kept on going. My mom just put her hand over her face in embarrassment. Good times.

 

 

 

 

Hi. My name is Patty. I have always wanted to be a writer. What makes you a writer? Writing. No one actually has to like it or read it for you to be a writer. SO I am going to write. I wrote for some of my professors in college (SHSU) back in the day and I was pretty good at it. I feel like I have a lot of funny stories. I have had a lot of people say “You should write a book.” What better time than a pandemic? I find myself thinking about book titles and chapter ideas while I jog. It is a brave thing to write because good writing is honest and can easily be critiqued. All of my favorite books are honest. It would be so easy to judge the authors but I admire them because they show all of their ugly along with the pretty. So, hopefully, you like the good and the bad that will come along with this page. Hopefully you can ask me questions and those conversations can be honest and interesting. I am 33. I have three kids (2 boys and 1 girl). I am a christian who attempts to put God first but fails over and over. I have been divorced for 6 years. I am engaged to my best friend. I am lucky to have family and friends and community that I can depend on. I have been depressed and happy. I have loved life and hated it, in love with God and angry with him. I have worked full time and been a stay at home mom (currently SAHM). I have been a hot mess most of my life. My sister likes to say “hot mess express” when she refers to me. I am more of “lets get out of town today and explore aimlessly” kind of girl than a “lets stick to a routine and be responsible” kind of girl. That will probably be interesting because my fiance takes weeks to process decisions and over analyzes the kinds of socks he buys. I have traveled a lot and hopefully will a lot more. I have failed a lot and it made me a better person. I have changed a lot from who I used to be. I chose the name Ponder with Patty because its catchy.. and my writing will probably cover really random things. I knew I loved my fiance when he said “I am a fan of alliteration.” I actually knew way before that but what a cute nerd. I am honest, funny, easily angered, loving, hopelessly flawed, and able to write. So I hope you enjoy it. 🙂 Thanks for reading.