I moved away from my children while they were still in their teens. While I can rationalize it all in different ways, I can't escape the guilt.
Their Dad & I separated. He moved in with his girlfriend and the kids stayed with me. I told them why we'd separated, coming out to them, and still they chose to stay with me.
The divorce was finalized, they took shit off their classmates for having a gay mom and still they stayed with me. Their Dad remarried and bought a bigger house and still they stayed.
I thought my kids would live with me forever, not moving till they got married or went to college or moved for some fantastic job. We enjoyed eachother's company that much. But everything went completely screwy and out of control when the ex threw a car into the mix.
The car was for our son. But I didn't think it was a good idea. The boy was barely making passing grades in school and I felt it was too much of a distraction. Immediately after he got that car (at 15 1/2), he began to get tickets. He'd be out all night. I wouldn't know where he was.
I tried grounding him. But he'd sneak off before I got home from work. I locked the car in the garage and he destroyed the lock and bent the garage door to get the car out. It was so awful.
Support from his Dad.. well, it was weird. Most times he didn't want to know. He'd say stuff like, 'We all did stuff like then when we were their age.' I'd point out that since he was paying the boy's insurance, surely he had to care more than that?
On a few occasions I was slated for being a bad mom, unable to control my kid. Once, he told me that he HAD to let our son keep the car, it's was the only thing they had left to talk about! Fucking pathetic dickhead...
When I started getting calls from the police in the middle of the night, something had to change. I was going to destroy the car. I never expected what was coming.
My son took a whole bottle of pills. I only knew because he wrote a suicide note to his sister and slipped it under her door. She, in a panic, told me and I managed to get him into the van and to the hospital. It was terrifying.
After thay pumped his stomach, they took him to a residential treatment facility for 10 days (two weeks?.. can't remember). His sister and I visited as often as they'd let us. (Dad never visited at all.) My son cried, said he was so sorry and that he just wanted to be back home. We talked and I thought he and I had reached an understanding. I wouldn't take away the car if he would be more responsible.
What a joke. He was back to the old routine within days of being released. I took it for another week, and then gave up. I asked his Dad to take him for two weeks, give me a break.
During that time, I drew up a list of ten house rules, stuff like home by ten on a school night, get a ticket and the car is off limits for a while, etc... To come back home, he had to agree to the rules. He refused, opting to stay with his Dad.
Two weeks later, my daughter said she wanted to live where her brother was. She'd been starting to get up to shit with a particular girlfriend and I'd tried to cut back the time she could spend with her. So she bailed to her Dad's house too. This was in February.
Their Dad didn't care. He was busy being 17 again himself and would ignore them for weeks at a stretch, then either rant at them or buy them presents. They had the freedom they wanted and never spoke to me of missing home.
I was at a loose end without my kids. The house was far too empty and Lynne lived too far away. AND, even though they didn't live with me anymore, I was STILL getting shit off the ex.
In June I went to visit Lynne. I decided to move to be with her. The kids were surprised when I told them, but never asked me to stay or suggested they'd like to move back in with me. By the beginning of September, I was gone.
My daughter said early on, that they aren't mad at me for moving, that 'They left me first'. I'm glad for that, but then I'm not. A parent is supposed to be there for the kids.. and no matter what the reason, I'm NOT there. Not even close.
I do what I can for them, despite the ocean separating us. We talk all the time and if there's anything I can do to help, they ask and know I will help. It's been four years now. My son is out on his own (not managing the best, true.. but still has reached that age when he would naturally have flown the nest). My daughter has graduated high school and will be out of her Dad's house soon too.
I keep expecting the fact they're to the age where they wouldn't have needed me so much anymore.. to let me off the hook, make the guilty feelings subside. But the feelings remain.
4 comments:
That was a powerful, powerful and from the heart writing, and as you might suspect, it really connects with things here.
Nothing I can say to you, or be said to me in return, will ease these feelings. It is what is, we live with it, try and do the best we can. Life still has to be lived, and shutting down over guilt in the here and now just creates another layer of issues... so we plow onward.
More than anything, it isn't being a lesbian mom or a trannie lesbian mom that messes with our kidlets, it's divorce, and that is a two parter.
Like it or not, destabilising or not, two incompatible people create issues that are equally problematic if they remain together... for instance, my daughter asking me why her mom always yelled at her, and the incredible tension that existed in that home.
Divorce is the only realistic way, but kidlets start blaming themselves, and don't really start figuring out it wasn't them until they have some adult perspective by which to evaluate it all.
I recall Max telling me she was very angry when her parents divorced (she was 9), lashing out in all sorts of directions. Her experiences helped me understand what Kelsey and Ryan, but particularly Kelsey were facing, not that it helped in terms of working it out with them... it just helped me accept that maybe what they needed most was not pressure, but space.
I can't help the guilt, Kim... but can add the idea that for both of us, the relationship with our children will reshape into a new dynamic, where we are their parent, but in that timeless child/parent conundrum, now our peers.
BIG *HUGS*
You've given me a new perspective to consider. Maybe the car crap wasn't just about my son pushing for freedom from me. It could have been asking for attention from his father or trying to find a way to relate to a dad who always used to tell of his outrageous auto exploits...Or a misguided attempt to reunite the family.. or any number of other things.
Unexpectedly, I've learned the weird thing about guilt is that it makes everything all about ME.
I really didn't anticipate such a revelation when I posted and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
There is no reason for you to feel guilty. It's not like they don't know your door is always open. Even if that door is across the ocean. These are hard years for everyone, even when things are "perfect".
Kim...I STAYED for the children...and lost them anyway.
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