Single White Stepmother

I swear to you guys, I don't have an over-inflated sense of self importance nor is my head swollen with ego.

So when I blog about the following, please understand that I am aware 1) I am not the only person who dyes their hair red on the planet. 2) I am not the only person who has bangs on the planet.

DH and I preach to the kids about the importance of being yourself. About being an individual and not apologizing if your way of thinking/feeling/looking irritates someone else. Never compromise your morals for the benefit of the pack. That sort of thing. Not only do we preach this because DH and I are far from ordinary but I remember growing up and thinking I had to fit in some sort of mold so I would have friends. It took me quite a while to figure out that the people I was trying to mold myself FOR were not necessarily worth my effort.

In addition, BM is very much into the whole "I must conform to what society thinks I should look like/behave/own, etc." She used to be out there and now she tries to be prim and proper and fit in with the "ideal" that is conservative.

To each his own, whatever, but MY big issue is that BM does not have any opinions/thoughts of her own, she conforms to the ideals of whatever man she is with. When she was with DH, she was out there, and far from ordinary. Now that she is with her current man, she conforms to conservative.

Obviously, because of this, we are very big on keeping an open mind (within reason obviously, they are still children) with all the kids. We want them to be individuals and not feel like they have to cave to what society expects them to think/feel/look.

About four months ago, I found a gray hair in the front of my hair. Rather than pull it, I cut myself bangs.

Three weeks later, my step-daughter got her hair cut into bangs.

I dyed my hair back to red in June. Two weeks ago, SD got permission from BM to dye her hair with temporary dye...she dyed it red....

I made the mistake of admitting to DH that it was a little creepy. A little too single white female for me...he got offended. It wasn't my intent to offend, but it does creep me out a little. When I was married before, my ex's step sister decided she wanted to be exactly like me. She started dressing like me, cut her hair like mine, dyed her hair like mine (and I went through about four different haircolors in an attempt to make it stop, didn't work), the whole nine yards.

I know it's supposed to be flattering that she wants to model herself after me, and I apriciate the sentiment, but I want her to be on her own person. I don't want her to think she has to carbon copy me, nor do I think (which is honestly what I expect is REALLY going on) it's healthy for her to model herself after me to piss her mother off. It concerns me basically.

Do I honestly think she's going to single white female me? No. She's 12, I mean I have some sense. Nor do I think that I'm the only red head with bangs that she knows. I just wonder what the reasoning behind this whole transformation is.

And it could be nothing. It could be she didn't even think about me when she decided these things. I could be looking at nothing, just a 12 year old, wanting to be different than what she is. Which is fine.

It's just a little weird...

Melancholia

It happens every year....in August....right before my birthday....

I always soul search.

Sometimes it's to get perspective. Sometimes it's to figure out how to make next year better. Sometimes it's to assess damages. Regardless, it happens every.single.year.

This time, I stumbled upon my old Livejournal. The last entry was from before I moved here so four plus years ago. I went back and read to the very beginning.

It was HARD....

I kept wanting to kick myself, preferably in the face if possible, for being so fucking STUPID. I chronicled almost every single relationship (or lack thereof) that I had from my divorce until right after I met my husband. Dear...goddess....I was a total freaking idiot.

I know I was young. I know I had to learn from my mistakes. I think the experiences turned me into a fairly decent person. I know it confirmed for me that taking that time off to be single before I met my husband was DEF for the best.

But I noticied something about myself...something I'm not entirely sure I'm happy about.

I am a rescuer.

Every.single.fucking.relationship.I.have.ever.had. The ones I can recall with clarity. Every.one.

I find these boys, that have nothing. I go above and beyond to get them back on their feet, back to the point where they are a functioning human being. Once they get there, generally, I'm discarded, of no further use. I struggle, and bust my ass for these people, to make something of their lives. And then, I have to start all over again.

One question occured to me while pointing all this out to myself....

Who is going to be there for me? When I finally can't stack anything else on my shoulders.... when I can't take it anymore and this strong woman that I know just crumbles under the pressure of it all....who is going to pick up MY peices?

What happens when the self-rescuing princess simply cannot rescue herself anymore? What happens when she needs help? Who is there for her then?

This brings me to tears. As selfish as it sounds and IS, after everything I have done, for all these people, I'm TIRED of being the responsible one. I'm TIRED of picking up everyone elses peices. I'm TIRED of rescuing everyone else.

I have allowed myself to be used as a set of stairs. A ladder for others to climb to get back on top, and leave me below. That's not to say I haven't been able to climb a few rungs for myself, I have. I have managed to get pretty far in life with the drive I have. But I've been pushing everyone else up farther. I've felt that I need to HELP anyone who needs helping. I'm finally to the point in my life where I'm starting to be comfortable and I am NOT going to give that up. By any stretch of the imagination. I worked my ass off to get here. I worked my ass off to get my husband here. And by god, I'm going to keep climbing and keep making it for as long as I can manage.

I just hope by then, if I slip and fall down a few rungs, my husband will catch me. And that doesn't mean that I think he wouldn't. I KNOW without a doubt my husband loves me more than anything on this earth, and I him. The problem is that I've rescued him as well, I don't know if he knows HOW to help me if I were to fall....and that's not HIS fault, it's all MINE.

I'm hanging up my crown. I rescue no one else. I'm tired from the weight of it all. If BM decides she's going to turn into a crazy loon again, I will not deal with it. I'll be supportive as always but I refuse to bare the brunt of her crazy when it's not my burden. Dragging myself into other people's stress and destruction, no more. It's selfish, I admit it, but it's been almost 31 years. 31 LONG years of me doing everything in my power to help EVERYONE else. I simply can't do it anymore. It's time to worry about number 1. Me. My home. My family. My life. My kids. My marriage. M.E.

If that makes me a selfish bitch, so be it.