Father’s Day from an Orphan’ s Point of View

Sorry for the long silence. Things have been a bit rough and I haven’t been able to write. This was written last year, but I felt too vulnerable publishing it. But now I think I need to, to help me as I try harder to stay in the present and not obsess over the past or worry about the future.

“All you had to do was say you’re sorry. I would have forgiven you.” Postcard on http://www.Postsecret.com

I didn’t become an orphan in the usual way, where both parents passed away at the same time. No, that label took 16 years to take hold, the first parent leaving when I was 13, the other parent leaving when I was 29. One left by choice, the other by circumstance.

The one who left by choice was the man who helped my mother have me. When he decided she wasn’t enough woman for him and walked out to be with his girlfriend, he turned my world upside down. I was 13, already dealing with hormones and body changes and mood swings and I didn’t understand. I was angry, and felt forced to spend time with him and felt like he didn’t want to be with me either. Then one day when he dropped me off after a particularly awkward “visit” he said, “I was never a 13 year old girl. I don’t know how to relate to you.” And those were his last words to me.

I have tried through the years to contact him because I couldn’t bear to not be in his life. I realize now he should have tried to contact me, because he couldn’t bear to not be in MY life. My college graduation, my first marriage, the celebration of earning a Master’s degree. I wrote so many letters, some I sent, some I didn’t because I was upset and afraid to send them, telling him, begging him, to come to these events, that nothing from the past would matter. And no response. I don’t know why I kept trying, to be honest. Maybe I thought he wasn’t getting the letters, that his new wife was intercepting them so if I kept trying maybe she would relent or he would get to the mail first. Then his mother died and the obituary said she was survived by one grandchild. I was the oldest of two. But though that hurt me, I still had hope that he would find me and say he was sorry, can we please start over and try to fix our relationship. And I would have!

But then on whatever day I had the service for AngelMom, I knew he would do something to show that he cared for her, for me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him there, it would distract from her if he did come and probably upset me more, but I hoped he would at least send flowers or a card or something. Again, no response, on the day I most needed one. Maybe he didn’t know where I lived but he could have sent something to the funeral home! So that is the day I decided he was dead to me and I was officially an orphan.

But deciding I was an orphan didn’t turn off the feelings completely, I guess because the mind knows you’re lying to yourself, that it’s not factual what you believe. Two months later I married Mr. G, and then a little over two years later I had Peanut, and then four years after that I had Bird, and through all these years I would see him around town. I so wanted to go up to him and say, here are your beautiful grandchildren that you will never have the joy of knowing! I looked just like him, he would always know me right? Of course he would! I never went up to him because I was afraid he would pretend he didn’t know me, and by rejecting me again he would reject my children as well and they didn’t deserve that. I couldn’t bear that. So I kept quiet and made myself miserable.

What’s funny is that those hateful last words put me on a path for what I thought was normal male behavior. Three boyfriends followed after he left us, one almost turned into a husband, and one did turn into a husband, and they all felt that I wasn’t enough for them and found another woman, yet I felt it was my fault. I was a teenager or in my early 20s, I didn’t even know who I was or what I wanted, how could it be my fault???? Did any of them really love me? I don’t know. It made me distrustful and guarded and reluctant to love.

I did have positive male influence in my life, and I appreciate those men who were or still are in my life, and the new men who have accepted me as family! But it’s not the same as the blood relationship and believe it or not, Father’s Day is almost as unbearable as Mother’s Day! It’s the same ache, same jealousy I have watching other women with their mothers. My children will only have Mr. G’s parents as grandparents and that makes me sad. But unfortunately there is nothing I can do about that. I can’t try anymore. He doesn’t want to be in my life. I have to accept it. And yet, I will still think of him today and wonder if he thinks of me too. I can’t help it. I wish I could. He has hurt me enough.

To the man who helped my mother have me: None of this is my fault. It’s yours. All you had to do was say you’re sorry.


Please Universe, Send Me Some Acceptance!

So I’ve been doing a lot of digging around the Interwebs looking for writing submission and freelance writing sites. I’ve been responding to a lot of ads. My traffic here on WordPress is increasing, because my website traffic is increasing and they’re all coming here. I’m getting more followers. It seems that should be good enough to prove that people want to read what I write. But I guess it’s that no one seems to think that what I write is good enough to want to pay me for.

I’ve applied to so many writing jobs on Craigslist I had to start a spreadsheet so I can keep them all straight as to what it was and how much I said I’d do it for! And the response, if any, has always been along the lines of  “you’re a great writer but just not what we need now, but thanks anyway! We’ll be in touch the month of never if we ever need anything else!”

And it’s not just in my writing where I’m feeling rejected, it’s with Peanut too. She barely seems to want to have anything to do with me lately unless it involves spending my money or driving her somewhere. Where did my sweet girl go who loved me and wanted to be with me just because?

I was thinking why do I keep trying to write a book and get freelance jobs to leave the 9-5? Why do I keep trying to be pleasant in the face of the hormone monster who just wants to bite my head off without reason? I started another post about rejection and then got discouraged and deleted it thinking no one would care. It’s just all too much lately. I just need one thing to show me it’s worth it, that my dreams will come true.

Then I found this quote by Thomas Edison on Brainy Quote:  “Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time.”

Wow, great timing Universe! I put that in the “sticky note” app on my phone so I will be motivated to keep trying. Just one more time….


So Why Did You Interview Me Twice???

Today I heard from the second firm that I interviewed twice with. And it was thanks for considering us but we’re no longer considering you. 😦 Now I really wasn’t sure I wanted this position after the second interview anyway so I’m not as disappointed with this rejection as I was with the other opportunity.

But I am a little disturbed because both firms said I wasn’t qualified enough. Ok, that’s not something I can quickly change, I can only keep working to gain more experience and improve my skills. But really, you can’t tell from the online application and my professional resume that I don’t have exactly everything you want????? You have to make me jump thru hoops twice to get time off work or figure out how to plan my appearance in the office without looking too dressed up and obvious to attend interviews before you know I’m not who you want and need? Really?????

So I guess somehow after whatever they saw that sparked their interest and made me seem like a good possibility, and what made them like me and want to learn more after the first interview, something from my skill set was deleted by the time I left the second interview and that made me less qualified. Hmm.  Not sure how to remedy that. :/

Ok whatever. I had a lot of undue stress and anxiety for nothing. But I’m not giving up the search. As my friend C said, “Their loss…it means something bigger and better is waiting.” Everything happens (or doesn’t) for a reason. Maybe writing is meant to be my dream job so I have to stick it out with my full-time job for now. Or maybe my writing is just my creative outlet and my dream job isn’t quite ready for me yet. Whichever way it goes, I hope it goes soon so I don’t loose even more skills!

What’s Wrong with My Style????

Even though I’ve heard that it’s difficult to land jobs on elance and that they don’t pay well, I created an account because a lot of the jobs sound interesting and would be easy peasy for me. I apply to a few a week, and have gotten a dozen or so private invitations to submit a proposal. Most of the time the jobs that I’m invited to aren’t a good fit because they require a quick turnaround or need too many per day or week and I just can’t commit to that with a full-time job.

So I found an ad that required researching and writing blogs about medical topics. Ok, I have zero medical knowledge, but I figured well you never know, and if I don’t try I’ll never know if I could have won it. Plus I figured that I’m researching and writing articles for an environmental engineering firm which is a little different from my background so what’s the difference?

It wasn’t more than a day or two and I got a response that my proposal was rejected because the client wants a different style. At first I was like oh ok, it’s a nice way of saying, “Well you have zero medical experience and you’re new to elance so we don’t want to take a chance on you.” But then it made me mad because what’s wrong with my style that they won’t even ask me to try to write the way they want it written? Don’t they see I write this blog this way and the engineering and clothing blog in other completely different ways just because it’s what makes sense for each of them, and that I can write their blog the way they want? I write boring proposals all day, why can’t I write them at night too?

I mean isn’t that the point of writing, to change your voice/style to fit the topic and/or intended audience? Isn’t the point to draw people in and keep them with you with just your words and the pictures that your words make in their minds?

I’m probably better off not having this particular client. And since there will be other rejections, I’m telling myself that I will not take it personally. I’ll just keep writing for those who DO like my style and for those that don’t, whatever, there will be other opportunities to get my writing out there.