From the outside looking in...
Ever feel like an outsider? Like you’re looking through a window in peoples lives but them never really seeing you. I can feel like that when I let things get to me. I mean when I actually sit back and think.
To most of my own family, they couldn’t really care less about me at all. I think the reason they speak to me occasionally is because they feel they have too. They don’t at all, I’m fine with that. I have such a lovely little family that give me all the happiness I want & need and they make everyday so wonderful and Joe constantly shows & tells me how much he loves me.
This is not a sympathy card in the slightest. Because not everyone gets along in life, not everyone agrees with each other and my family haven’t been right for such a long time now. Things happen, and people change. That’s life.
I am an outsider. I’m a last resort to so many people. And I think that’s why I constantly crave a big family and so many babies, because I’m not there last resort and never will be. They will always come to me first, want me around, love my company, want my advice and my support. And I will always be there for them.
Maybe it’s because I don’t need people as much as other people need people. I’m quite happy to do things by myself, and quite happy with my own company.
One thing is for sure, I don’t want my children growing up feeling like this. They will all be treated fairly and they will each feel as loved as the other. Their grandchildren too, they will never feel alone and they will have nothing but our love and attention.
I’m okay with being a last resort. But I’m not okay with my children being a last resort. They are more than that. They have the most wonderful little souls, that can brighten up any day. They have hearts of pure gold and anyone lucky enough to have them in their life should open up their eyes and see it. Because there is an off button, and when it’s off, it’s off. They are little people and they will only pick up on things that happen around them, and that is why they will never have to be the ones looking in from the outside. They will be the ones asking the ones outside to come in.
To most of my own family, they couldn’t really care less about me at all. I think the reason they speak to me occasionally is because they feel they have too. They don’t at all, I’m fine with that. I have such a lovely little family that give me all the happiness I want & need and they make everyday so wonderful and Joe constantly shows & tells me how much he loves me.
This is not a sympathy card in the slightest. Because not everyone gets along in life, not everyone agrees with each other and my family haven’t been right for such a long time now. Things happen, and people change. That’s life.
I am an outsider. I’m a last resort to so many people. And I think that’s why I constantly crave a big family and so many babies, because I’m not there last resort and never will be. They will always come to me first, want me around, love my company, want my advice and my support. And I will always be there for them.
Maybe it’s because I don’t need people as much as other people need people. I’m quite happy to do things by myself, and quite happy with my own company.
One thing is for sure, I don’t want my children growing up feeling like this. They will all be treated fairly and they will each feel as loved as the other. Their grandchildren too, they will never feel alone and they will have nothing but our love and attention.
I’m okay with being a last resort. But I’m not okay with my children being a last resort. They are more than that. They have the most wonderful little souls, that can brighten up any day. They have hearts of pure gold and anyone lucky enough to have them in their life should open up their eyes and see it. Because there is an off button, and when it’s off, it’s off. They are little people and they will only pick up on things that happen around them, and that is why they will never have to be the ones looking in from the outside. They will be the ones asking the ones outside to come in.
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