I struggle between wanting to be the open and honest mother – no pussy footing around – that I would like to be with my children vs wanting to shield them from the scary truths.
I don’t want my kids to be overly sheltered … I also don’t want to fade out as a person simply because I am somebody’s mother.
But now the thought occurs to me … the thought of my children finding out my innermost thoughts and feelings – that I have written down primarily for them – Well… Goddamn. The Scandal. The Shock. The fact that their mother had other lovers than their father – in and out of that relationship.
The Shock, the appall, I would feel now if I read these same kinds of things about my own mother.
Is it so bad, really?
To find that their mother had an affair before they were born. To find that she dealt with some tumultuous relationships. To find that she had sex before she even wanted to get married.
For crying out loud, she isn’t a saint!
The Scandal that she could be a real person. The Scandal that she had or may yet have feelings for other men.
I wonder sometimes too if my husband, their father, has ever had hidden feelings for another woman. Perhaps I wouldn’t then hold on to my own guilt anymore.
But my husband never would admit that if he did. Sure, he’ll say other women are attractive – but even his exes from before our relationship are mostly a mystery to me.
I want my kids to know my stories by the time they are teenagers. I want to be open. I want them to know I’m willing to talk objectively about their relationships and that I might just understand.
I see a future argument in the making. My husband is a lot more conservative than I am. He won’t want his kids to know his wife cheated on him at the very least.
Even after eight years since David, he still doesn’t want his family or friends to know about my writing for fear of the scandal… Oh, The Scandal…