I Cry, Every Time.

I miss my kiddos being little.

Every time I see a picture of them as a baby or a toddler, I find myself fighting the sobs. Nevertheless, water will fill my eyes.

My kids will ask why I get emotional when I see these pictures.

I will say, "I cry because it makes me wish I could go back in time and hold you all, snuggle with you all real tight one last time...you have grown up so fast. I miss your littleness."

And while that is true...it's not the full truth.

What I really mean is:

I cry because it makes me wish I could go back and in time and first hold myself, tell myself to quit beating myself up over the fact that I felt like a terrible mother, an ugly wife, a miserable friend, a confused child of God due to an unknown anxiety that plagued me so fiercely I could barely function, on top of the wrong medication I was taking that had me a zombie.

Then I would hold my kids, hold them so tight; savoring the moment, a moment I felt too overwhelmed to take the time to do, and tell them just how precious they are to me and how proud I am of the people they have become and how everyday I feel honored to know I have the privilege of being their mom. 

I cry because these are all things I wish I could do, now that I'm outside of that old world, now that I have a different mindset. Now that I'm pain-free, anxiety-free and depression-free.

I'm showing you these pictures not because I feel that being overweight will make you miserable. I have full confidence that if I were leading a better life at this weight, I would have been truly happy, confident, and felt sexy in my own skin. Weight is a number....and no matter the number, it won't bring you any form of happiness, confidence, and feeling of beauty if you aren't doing all that you can not only for your body, but for the growth of your mind, heart, and soul.

Even at my lowest weight in life, I was unhappy and felt good for nothing.

But I cry because I remember how much I hated what I saw in the mirror. I hated that no matter how I did my hair or how I did my makeup, that it was all a bandaid to how miserable I was, forgetting that it was my heart and mind that needed help, not my looks.

I cry because I woke up depressed, every day, counting down the hours until the kids' bedtime just so I could stay up to a ridiculous hour, binge watching TV while binge eating until guilt had me finally crawling in bed, knowing that my day would start in just a few hours.

I cry because I didn't know that it was ok to say to those around you, "I need a break. I need your help. I need you to help me."

I cry because I didn't know that to love myself was what God not only wanted for me but wants for all of us and that to love yourself does not mean you'll become arrogant, vain, prideful.

I cry because I was so confused with how the path I felt I should continue on made me feel repressed and of little value, but was told may have some great reward in the end--if I make it and IF that's even true.

I cry because I felt I was measured best by living in a mold that didn't honor me.

And that I had no value if I didn't endure to the end in this mold.

I cry because I lost friends as I didn't understand how to show unconditional love. 

Because to love someone as they are, with no exceptions, was scary.

I cry because I tried fitting others into a mold which only showed them that I loved conditionally.

Finally, I cry because this mindset was of a person attempting to raise three kids, to teach them how to be the best little humans this planet needs; to love others as God loves them...and yet, I didn't even have the basics within me to stop and love them like I feel I should've.

But then, I stumble across photos like this:

 (July 2007)

And I'm reminded of God's tender mercies. How He helps us where we lack, how He takes control when we feel we can do no more. How He understands our mindset, and also our heart. How He sees that many of us are just doing the best we can, with what we know and with what we have.

And, in looking at my kiddos today, and in looking back on these past few years of finding my truth, and in turn, knowing how best to be present for my kiddos and to teach them the things of importance, I feel quite blessed.

I want to say, or shout if it helps, the importance of taking time for yourself. 

The importance of finding something that will help you know who you are.

The importance of turning inward and knowing the soul God created that resides in you.

The importance of not allowing fear to control your actions, or worse, to allow it to control how you live your life.

I can finally say that I'm happy. Truly happy.

And that every day is a gift.

I got to where I am at now through the pure grace of God.

I dunno if I ever cried to Him for help during those years, 

but He sure found it necessary to help me.

And He knew exactly how.

Through specific people that I have no doubt He put on my path.

And because of them, I cry.

And because of them, I had the courage to try.

To dare.

To be willing to put Him first, above all else.

And to be willing to dare to try what He tells me to do...regardless of how anyone will perceive it.

I'd be lying if I said it was easy. It has been hard as hell at times. It has been hard to break poor conditions, degrading mindsets,  manipulative relationships, learning to say no, learning the importance of putting myself first, learning to cut people from your life who strive to hold you back, learning that some people only love you to an extent and the after that, push you away...

...just like I used to do.

And with each sunset, my heart cries (if I don't openly). 

Because I was given another chance to see life how God wants all His children to.