As I lay on his chest, I can feel his breath rising and falling in rhythmic motion. His heart pounds heavily inside the cage of bones, now beginning to protrude no matter his position. I feel his chest muscles spasm involuntarily as his body fights off sleep, and I rest my hand on his as if it might send the message to his subconscious that sleep is good. It’s okay to let go and rest.

I survey him like he is new to me, though he is not. Each mark, each scar to be examined and cataloged. He is a strong man. He is a good man. And he loves me fiercely.

Still, as I scan across his skin I can’t help but think of those who have done so before I came along. It’s a resonating battle inside of me, and I find myself entrenched once again, firing shots toward a faceless enemy. I duck and I pop up again and fire until I begin to see their faces. The women I know he’s had relationships with. And I feel as if I am overtaken by them. I feel as if my weapons are malfunctioning and my armor is full of holes. As the enemy converges I catch my breath and the tear before it falls on his chest. And he stirs.

Why do I do this? Because I’m afraid. On some level I am afraid that I won’t compare to the women before me. And as usual, I follow this train of thought until it weaves through my landscape of the land of insecurity. I’ve built a home there on the unfriendly rock formations amongst the thorns and beasts where I am destined to return again and again. It is the land of the “Not Good Enough”.

In the last few months I’ve been gathering supplies in an effort to build a new home in a more forgiving land. During this self construction project I’m beginning to see some new truths, and they are making the job of condemning that old house and tearing it down just a little easier.

I don’t have to fight that battle. I’m no longer entrenched. I have some affirmations to strengthen me and they serve also as realizations. An epiphany, of sorts.

No matter how angry I am at their behavior, I can still love someone who hates me. I acknowledge my part in their feelings toward me, and I feel a deep sense of regret. I see their pain and I long for the days when my embrace was welcomed. When we shared those pains with one another. I can ache deeply that it simply isn’t possible now, and hold on to knowledge that my love for them remains, hoping beyond hope that what they now face can be just a little less devastating.

I am a balanced and loving mother who makes mistakes like every other mother has. I can hear my children and listen to their feelings. I can understand their pain, and stand strong as the adult when how they feel cannot affect the situation. I can hold them and still hold them responsible for their behavior. And I can tell them every day how much I love them. I know without doubt that I am a Good Mother. Above all, I can promise them and myself that under no circumstances will I ever give up on them.

I can give grace to someone who is hell bent on destroying me. Even in the midst of harassing phone calls, txts, threats of violence (however unlikely) and venomous slander, I can see the lost child inside. I can take into consideration someone who was abandoned and hurt, knowing they are really just looking for attention. ANY attention. I can know that they may be doing and saying vicious things, but only to keep busy enough to not feel the loneliness. And while I give grace, I don’t excuse the actions. I stand tall and defend myself and those I love.

I receive judgment without returning it. I know that those (both in my family and outside of it) who are convinced I am every kind of hopeless sinner in need of the Lord have their own demons to battle, and I can be at peace knowing in my innermost being that my relationship with God is personal and not only not their business but not for them to judge. I can understand that they don’t realize what they’re really doing is leaving me completely alone in the time of my greatest need. And I can forgive them for it, keeping enough distance to protect myself at the same time.

Then, I can turn back to my sleeping warrior and be content with where we are right now. Without holding on to the past. Without forcing a future. I can be blissfully in the moment, and drift into a sound and peaceful sleep.

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