If I told you going to the market made me cry, you would think I was a bit off, wouldn't you?
Well, then I'm a bit off. Going to the market to buy good healthy food for myself is a big thing for me.
Long story short - Cancer nine years ago. No, have to go back further. Father violent alcoholic growing up, always felt like I/my feelings didn't matter. Of course trust issues came along with the anger. Hereditary rage, is what I called it. Get married. Have four children in five years. Get fibromyalgia. Get breast cancer. Have to learn how to put myself first but I really want my husband to step up and care for me the way I would and do care for him. That was nine years ago.
Have fought, trying to make him "do as I say, not as I do", for the past 27 years. I have finally given up, or so I thought.
Jump to Sunday. No, make that Saturday. My mother calls me, has a heart to heart with me about not taking care of myself and says she is going to talk to my husband about it. I say, no because she'll be disappointed. I finally agree with her and so come Sunday morning I head off to the market.
I tell J. that I'm going to the market to buy good food for me. He doesn't offer to go with me but does point to the cash on the table. I stall and offer a few opportunites for him to volunteer to come along. No bites.
I walk out the door and as I reach my car I am crying. The voice in my head is saying, "see he doesn't care about you. You don't have anyone who wants to take care of you. He's just like your dad". I argue back, point out all the ways that J. does show me he loves me. That how I'm feeling is about my father and not my husband. That I can do this for myself. That I care about me!
I had a great time at the market.
