Maybe My Friend Was Right

Maybe My Friend Was Right

Y’all, today was a hard day.

Not because something terrible happened today, but because I think somebody finally said something that I really needed to hear.

I have a friend. Truthfully, we aren’t even close friends. We went to school together, but I don’t even know if she remembers me from back then. What I do know is that for years she’s been one of the kindest people to me. Anytime I need help—whether it’s technology, graphics, computers, or something I can’t figure out—she never tells me no. She always helps me.

Today I completely fell apart.

And when I say I had a meltdown, I mean a real meltdown.

One thing social media has taught me is that people usually only see the version of us we want them to see. They see the funny videos, the shopping trips, the grandbabies, the restaurants, and all the smiles. Most people don’t show the ugly days. They don’t show themselves crying or questioning everything.

I’ve always been the first one to think, “Girl… get a grip,” when somebody puts all their drama on Facebook.

But if I’m being honest, I’ve done it too.

Back in my drinking days, I posted plenty of things I wish I hadn’t.

So no… my life isn’t perfect.

Not even close.

I’m still a work in progress.

Every single day I try to be a better human. Some days I do really well.

Some days I fail miserably.

This week was one of those days.

Most of y’all know my granddaughter Elliot was born on my birthday. That means more to me than I can ever explain.

The reason it means so much goes all the way back to my childhood.

I never really had a relationship with my dad. We actually shared the same birthday. You’d think that would make birthdays special between us, but it didn’t. There weren’t birthday traditions. There weren’t birthday phone calls every year. There weren’t cards.

Sometimes he’d remember.

Sometimes he wouldn’t.

Birthdays always carried a little hurt for me.

So when my sweet Elliot was born on my birthday, I honestly felt like God gave me something beautiful to replace an old hurt.

I truly believe I manifested that little girl.

If you’ve followed me for any amount of time, you know how much I love my grandbabies.

I do everything for them.

Not because anyone asks me to.

Not because anyone makes me.

I do it because that’s who I am.

Helping people has always been one of the ways I show love.

But this year, after Elliot’s birthday party, nobody really talked about doing anything for my birthday.

My son mentioned taking me to Barbecue Inn, but the wait was long, so that never happened. There wasn’t a backup plan. There wasn’t another dinner. There really wasn’t anything.

I thought maybe on my actual birthday I’d just pick Elliot up and take her to eat with me.

Instead, plans had already been made.

Taylor was getting ready to travel back to work, Jake had things to do, and Taylor’s mom was coming to stay with the girls for the week.

And before anybody misunderstands me…

I don’t blame her.

Those are her grandbabies too.

She deserves time with them just like I do.

I’m not upset that she got to be there.

What hurt was that nobody ever stopped to think, “Maybe we should make a little time for Mom on her birthday.”

After everything I do for my family, that hurt me more than I can explain.

It absolutely crushed me.

And I didn’t handle it well.

Could I have reacted better?

Absolutely.

I should have.

I’m not proud of how emotional I became.

Today, while I was having my pity party, I started talking to my friend.

And then she said something that completely stopped me in my tracks.

She said…

“I think you’re codependent.”

Then she said something I’ll probably never forget.

“It’s almost like you’re trying to buy their love.”

Ouch.

That one hurt.

Not because she was trying to hurt me…

But because there was some truth in it.

We talked for a long time.

She reminded me that my children are adults now.

They have good jobs.

They can take care of themselves.

My grandchildren don’t need my money.

They need my time.

Then she told me something that may end up changing my life.

She said, “You don’t have to stop loving them. You don’t have to stop being generous. But you do have to stop expecting people to love the same way you do.”

That hit me hard.

Because I think that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.

I’ve been giving and giving and giving…

Then feeling crushed when people don’t love me back the way I love them.

The truth is…

They’re probably never going to have my heart.

And that’s okay.

It doesn’t make them bad people.

It just means they’re different than me.

I also realized something else.

I’ve spent way too much time comparing myself to my ex-husband and his wife.

They honestly do very little, yet my kids still make sure the girls go see them.

Meanwhile, not once have they ever called and said, “Hey Mom, why don’t we bring the girls to your house this weekend?”

That hurts.

I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t.

But maybe the answer isn’t for them to change.

Maybe the answer is for me to change.

Maybe I need boundaries.

Not to punish anybody.

Not to prove a point.

Not to keep score.

Boundaries for me.

Because when I keep giving until I’m emotionally empty, then expect people to fill me back up, I’m setting myself up to be disappointed.

I don’t want to become bitter.

I don’t want to stop being generous.

I don’t want to stop loving people the way I love people.

I just need to learn that loving someone doesn’t mean sacrificing myself.

I don’t have to earn my children’s love.

I don’t have to buy it.

I don’t have to prove I’m the best grandma.

I already know who I am.

So maybe this next chapter isn’t about changing my family.

Maybe it’s about changing me.

And honestly…

That might be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to learn.

If you’ve ever struggled with setting boundaries, if you’ve ever loved people more than you’ve loved yourself, or if you’ve ever found yourself giving until there was nothing left to give…

Just know you’re not alone.

I’m learning too.

One day at a time.