Survivor

I didn’t do anything” simple phrase, four words, and yet they…it was so hard to come to terms with.

There are times in life, when bad things happen to good people, and I was “good people”. There will be people who will argue with me being a good person, so here is their argument which I have heard, and me being me has given some thought to their words.

Kelly is fake…”Okay” (that was the Miguel “Okay” in my head, the one where he throws up his hands sarcastically and rolls his eyes dramatically. I love that kid, he has kept me grounded…made me feel ridiculous in my pity parties, encouraged me to scream and call names at the one’s who have hurt me…in my kitchen or car, with just the two of us to hear…and has told me about my haters “Bitches be Bitches Kelly”. He is a 21 year-old with a heart full of love for this crazy woman, and God gave me him to keep me grounded, he is my sounding board on right and wrong…just with a potty mouth of phrases which always some how ring true.)

So am I fake? I don’t think so, but I can see why people think so…I dress too nice when I go places, like the grocery store or my kids games. I know I look out-of-place in my sparkly sweaters, dress boots, and scarves…want to know a little secret? I don’t do it because I’m putting on airs, or want to feel better than the woman wearing the sweatshirt (Now if you are sitting at the game in PJ bottoms? Please go change, they aren’t to be worn out of the house). I don’t have middle of the road clothes…all my t-shirts and sweatshirts are either stained from cow poop or grease from cooking, All my casual clothes, never fails. I get to wear them once then I get them ruined…thus is the life of a farm girl and want to be amateur chef…So I can either wear stained up, sometimes smelly clothes in public or pull out a nice sweater. All my shoes have been worn in the cow lot, or pig pens, so I try to wear nicer ones in public, and the scarves are probably hiding a stain…maybe a hole like the one I wore yesterday. Not fake because of my clothes.

Am I fake because I act different in public than I do in private? Lord I hope not, because I was taught to be polite, quiet, and nice to everyone in public. I am not going to go smack someone I don’t like when I see them, instead I will put on a fake smile and say “Hello”. I don’t act like they are my best friend, I don’t tell them I love them, I just say “Hi”. I guess I feel like it’s the adult thing to do.

I don’t cuss in public, at least I try not to, I think it’s like smoking in public…you don’t do it around other people. I don’t talk a lot around people I don’t know, I’m a little shy, and private. I’m not fake…I’m just Kelly…what you see on here is me. If you think I can fake this then I need to move to LA and get a job in the movies.

Some people say I’m a snob…”Okay”. Read the above, I’m not.

People say I think I’m better than everybody else. “Okay”. Now this one cracks me up, because I don’t. I don’t look down on people, don’t try to make myself feel better by putting others down, I’m a lover not a hater.

I am sure there are other arguments to be made against me, but at the end of the day? I am a good person…“I didn’t deserve this”.

People are always trying to figure out what it was the betrayed spouse did…what sin they committed to make the cheater cheat. Guess what? For the most part I didn’t do anything, I was the “victim” (yes, I just threw up a little…and then swallowed it back down.) I was the “VICTIM”.

I think one reason I struggled with it not being my fault, my not deserving this? It is easier for someone like me to take blame, than to come to terms with being a victim. I would rather it be he cheated because I was a bad wife, a bad mom, I was just a bitch…Hell a fake bitch who thought she was better than everyone else…than be the victim. Bitch is a label I could wear, but victim makes my skin crawl…makes me feel weak, and helpless.

I don’t want to be the woman tied to the train tracks, screaming for help, waiting on someone to save me. I want to be the woman in the scary movies who picks up a knife and goes hunting for the killer, the one we cheer for, she has “lady balls” and is smart. She refuses to be the victim, and if she dies she will go out swinging.

I didn’t deserve this” means bad things can happen to good people, and life is unfair. It makes me want to give up sometimes…what does it matter if I live a good life? Why try? Why care? If bad things are gonna happen anyway then I will just be bad, do bad, stop caring.

I have had these thoughts in my pity parties for one, not gonna lie, they were tempting. It’s hard living a good life, a life where you try to always do right, never take easy, because you have kids to take care of and an example to give.

I know selfish and easy is less of a climb, the road with them is lined with fairy’s who braid your hair, leprechauns who buy you drinks, and garden gnomes who run beside you telling you how great you are, telling jokes, laughing with you…until you look up and you see the gates of Hell before you.

Like a frog in a pan of water, you never noticed it was subtly getting warmer until you were boiling alive, unable to get out of the pan.

I didn’t deserve this” they are hard words to make your peace with, at least for me to make my peace with, I don’t like being the victim. I hate living in a world where bad things happen to good people.

I think bad things happen so when the good comes along again? When you feel the warmth of the light on your face? When you laugh again? Are given a second chance? You take it…you grab on to it and hold it tight…and you Thank God for the lessons he gave you, and the person you are today.

I didn’t deserve this” but I survived it.

“Now that you’re out of my life
I’m so much better
You thought that I’d be weak without you
But I’m stronger
You thought that I’d be broke without you
But I’m richer
You thought that I’d be sad without you
I laugh harder
You thought I wouldn’t grow without you
Now I’m wiser
Though that I’d be helpless without you
But I’m smarter
You thought that I’d be stressed without you
But I’m chillin’
You thought I wouldn’t sell without you
Sold 9 million

I’m a survivor (What?)
I’m not gon give up (What?)
I’m not gon stop (What?)
I’m gon work harder (What?)
I’m a survivor (What?)
I’m gonna make it (What?)
I will survive (What?)
Keep on survivin’ (What?)”

-Destiny’s Child-

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One Response to Survivor

  1. I’m just reading back on your blog. It cuts to the bone. I was always accused of thinking I was better than others by my h’s family. That I overdressed and was a snob. That my bar was so high no one could meet it. And all of those things made their lives very easy. They knew I was trustworthy, that I’d never make a scene, that I would always step up. It’s easy to criticize from the gutter. My mother in law was a fan of the whore’s, she loves surrounding herself with people she considered damaged and less-than her. Being the queen among fucked up people makes your problems disappear. A daughter in law with kids who have manners and are going to college while the other grandson is 20 and has never worked or finished a class makes you look bad, apparently. Jealousy and competition and comparison block happiness, so they don’t want anyone else to be happy or succeed. My h was able to get away with cheating because he knew I would never do such a thing and I trusted him. They all used my high standards against me. And since I don’t go to the store in pajama pants, I am better than they are. Venting feels good, doesn’t it?

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