Before I was a Mom....

I am new to this whole blogging thing so bear with me as I figure things out. The hardest part of deciding to do this was to figure out where do I start? So I just thought to myself well what have I been thinking about a lot lately.. and that did absolutely nothing to help narrow it down..ultimately I picked the topic at random, written on a small piece of paper and picked out of my daughter's Boston hat...

I wish they could invent a time machine so I, being the woman I am now, could go back in time and meet myself at ages 5, 10, 15, 20 and 25. So much of my life is scattered memories with no real place...I wish I could go back and talk to the younger me(s) to find out what my hopes and dreams were..how did I view the world then? I can't remember..and when did it all change? I wish that I could ask God who was that person I was supposed to be when I was created... before life got in the way? I wish that I could go back and hug that little 5 year old me, hug her tight and apologize for what was going to happen to her, and tell her to never lose that light inside...To give a heads up to the 10 and 15 year old that I was..to let them know no matter how much pain..they were going through it was not their fault and try to lead them in different directions...The 20 year old me, married with 2 kids..the 25 year old me..just having my 4th baby, married for the second time, clueless as to the monster he would be..I was already in the process of breaking then...If I could go back and visit them, could I change my own fate? What about me at 30? Shattered into so many pieces by then, would it have been too late even then? I wish that I could go back to her and hold her as she cried alone on the bathroom floor wondering if life was worth it...Did I ever at any point ever have any real control over my life, could I have changed it?

Here I am about to turn 40, and my heart breaks for the younger me(s) as a mother would for a child...

I remember when I was in elementary school I wrote a story, and my teacher entered it into a contest..it won and was published in some magazine..it was about my brother who had died in a fire when he was 4, how much I missed him..she told me I had a knack for writing and wanted me to take this summer class for young author's. I remember this sense of pride and I came home sure my dad would be proud of me, I handed him my story and the note from my teacher saying how good it was..the next thing I remember is this stinging blow to my head,a really bad pulsating hurt and slowly trying to pick myself off the floor...so much confusion, I looked at my father's face, it was twisted...he was looking down at me with rage and I could swear hate...He ripped up my story and threw it all over the floor.....was I supposed to have been a writer? Is this the event that changed it?

Freshman year in high school, I was taking a class about the law, and I was so into it. I spent  alot of my time researching and taking notes..it was the first real interest I had in something in a long time...I was excited, sure then that I was going to be a lawyer. My father found my notebooks and folders full of these things I learned and asked me what it was for..I told him about my class at school...I remember feeling stunned that he was interested in something I was doing...and I told him I wanted to be a lawyer...he tossed my notebooks on the floor scoffing at me, telling me that I would never amount to anything unless it was on my back...I threw all of it away then and gave up that interest....was I supposed to have been a lawyer? I think I would have been a good one...

I don't think I ever got a chance to be a kid, to grow up...to find out who I am outside of being a wife or a mother...I wish the older me..the woman I will be at 60..could come visit me and let me know that it got better..that my life will be full of laughter and love and big family Christmases, with lots of grandchildren running around as I sit with my husband in our rocking chairs on our big wrap around front porch.....