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We had known for over a year that it was coming. . . SO much had been put on hold as a result. . . We didn't know how much time we had or how much notice we would get. . . We just knew that it would be a time in our life together that was to be truly OURS, a time to establish a solid foundation for our future. . . A grand opportunity! Now, FINALLY, the time has come (& gone): we packed up & moved from Washington State to Arizona for the handsome husband's job.
It is a happy time. We've planned (& planned some more) to ensure that we can handle any curveballs that are thrown our way. . . In the weeks since leaving Washington, I have experienced a wide range of emotions — everything ranging from relief to anxiousness, elation to pure exhaustion. . . Most recently, however, a certain series of events have transpired that have left me feeling hurt, angry, &, well, bitter — stifling the joy of this time. I've struggled briefly with how to rid myself of this nasty taste in my mouth & have decided that this is my way to get it out of my system so it can no longer be toxic to me. . . So. . .
It started before we even left Washington — while we were still in the relaxed stages of packing up our little two-bedroom apartment. I will only give vague details, (in the interest of some kind ofprivacy for the other party). Trying to be forthright about our intentions for this new phase in our life, I set boundaries that (so I thought!) would help eliminate misunderstandings or frustrations, particularly during & just after our move. These boundaries were discussed multiple times with all parties involved & it was expressed — on multiple occasions — that these boundaries were not only tolerable, but also reasonable, agreeable & understandable.
Yet, as the weeks passed, after we loaded up our moving truck & drove across a few states on this “adventure” that we have been planning & critiquing for over a year, somehow it was deemed that the boundaries that were so recently agreed upon should be trampled on. Even more so, the other party has demonstrated such a sense of entitlement (& hunger for drama & attention) that I doubt they ever took to heart the many conversations of the recent past. Names were called (by both sides, I will admit) & an attempt was made to make ME feel like I betrayed trust or something — which is downright preposterous. I simply upheld the agreed upon boundaries — even allowing a few exceptions as they seemed appropriate.
This other party has had such a lack of respect on this, ignoring nearly all well-intentioned advice & then staring doe-eyed when things blew up, expecting someone to swoop in & rescue — playing a fiddle to the masses, trying to drum up sympathy for this plight that they're in when it's all a direct result of their own choices.
I am tired of cleaning up other people's messes & “mothering” people who are not mine to mother. It is time for others to start putting on their “big girl panties” & figuring out how to make their own way in the real world. When help is expected instead of appreciated, I can no longer let someone keep draining me; I am already too emotional of a person. . . It doesn't mean I love you any less, but it does mean I do not like you at all right now. Tough love. Suck it up, (& I will do the same).
I wash my hands & I pray you let God look out for you, because I can no longer. My mother would be so proud of me — & not in the low-blow, unwarranted, viciously heartless kind of way YOU tried to refer to. Regardless, I really do wish you the best & I hope you figure it out sooner rather than later. . .
In my own day to day life, I couldn’t’ agree more with your statement “I am tired of cleaning up other people’s messes & “mothering” people who are not mine to mother. It is time for others to start putting on their “big girl panties” !
I cannot thank you enough for validating my feelings! 😉 I have to admit, this was written out of frustration. . . I would never have gotten SO upset about this if the person in question wasn’t someone I deeply care about. . . But, that is neither here nor there. . . The feelings I felt at the time of writing this were more than real, (& most continue to be). . . Thank you for taking the time to share!
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