An Odd Way to Celebrate my Birthday

Interesting conversation this morning. I found myself emotionally torn between explaining myself and defending who I am. Not that I need to defend myself, but in reflection, I realize there are many deep-rooted feelings/beliefs in my soul. Some have been there my whole life and other parts I’ve developed over the years to protect myself, come to terms with who I really am, and not bow down to what others want/expect of me.

Guilt is an issue I deal with periodically – guilt that creeps in to haunt me even as I stand up for who I am. Guilt for not doing what I “should” be doing and fighting that should. Guilt that I am living life in my terms as much as that’s possible. Am I being fair? (I can’t even begin to explain how hard it is for me to leave the house sometimes. Not that there’s really anything wrong, but…)

For instance, in these days when I find it hard to leave the house (I can be pretty reclusive), I realize how like my mother I’ve become. Did she set me up for this? Not that she ever would have done anything to hurt me, but because of who and how she was, has part of that made me who I am today? (Someone who swore she’d never be like her mother, ha-ha, but I now recognize I am like her in many ways.)

How could it not have? We were so close. I remember her saying how, when her mum was still alive, the family always went to grandma’s house for holidays, and growing up, all I remember is family coming to our house for holidays.

When I had children of my own, every holiday I’d bundle the kids up to go to my parents’ house, and as I got older, I’d think how someday I would be the family matriarch and everyone would come to my house… well, our house once I moved back in with mum and while she was still living. This tradition continued until the remaining family finally said no to visiting, choosing to stay at their own homes for holidays.

That was devastating for mum and me. Holidays, especially Christmas, meant so much to mum. (She even passed away on a Christmas day.) But I had to respect the family’s wishes. They have the right to do what they want. I totally understand.

Holidays now mean little to me. They’re just another day which I usually spend alone… well, most days are spent alone, ha-ha, but holidays and Sundays are when the loneliness often creeps in unless I hold it at bay. Once in awhile I get invited to visit family, but I seldom go. I can’t even begin to describe what it’s like for me emotionally. It sounds stupid, I know. My eyes are full of tears even as I write this, even when I try to picture myself visiting family.

And I continue to ask myself, am I being fair for being so adamant in my beliefs? Am I fair to family to want them to visit me if I’m not willing to visit them? (Hence the guilt.) Can they possibly understand how emotional it is for me? Am I just being whiny? And I suppose everyone just thinks me terribly selfish. Perhaps I am.

So, these are my thoughts on my 67^th birthday, and now I have to get some editing work done… and not the work in the studio which I’d planned to do earlier.