When "Thank You" Isn't Enough

Note: I'm waffling between keeping this post public, filtering it, or making it private. I think, though, that it should be public because there are a couple of people who don't have an LJ or DW account who might need to see this, so this will be public.

I haven't talked any about my New Year's/birthday weekend, mostly because I've been recovering from it and trying to get back into the swing of things with the kiddo returning to school and all that. (Man, it was only two weeks, but boy it's easy to fall out of a routine.)

I had an amazing New Year's Eve with Sam's family. I finally got to meet his uncle and a couple of other family friends he's wanted to introduce me to for quite some time now, and they were all very lovely people. Sam's father's band put on an amazing set and I heard them cover everything from Pink Floyd, the Beatles, to Toad the Wet Sprocket, and Counting Crows, plus a few original songs in there too, one of which was adapted from a poem Sam's mother wrote several years ago. (Seriously, his family? So talented it's freaky.) This was my first honest to goodness New Year's Eve party. I mean, sure I've done get together's with my father's friends when I was a kid, but this was the first time I was in a bar with a large-ish crowd with live entertainment in a bar/restaurant. Yes, I turned 30 at midnight, and it was my first real party.

My birthday itself was awesome too. Sam's family put together a dinner of finger foods and gave the kiddo and me our belated Christmas presents, and then I was given birthday presents. That last part? Overwhelming. Looking back, I think I should have thanked them more than I did, but I was speechless. My gifts were amazing, and really the first time since I was a teenager that I had an actual party with more than just my parents giving me gifts. I felt guilty because I haven't been able to get Sam's family any gifts yet, though I plan to remedy that soon -- and I realize this looks like I'm doing this out of obligation, but no, I'd planned on gifts before this. It was the best birthday I've had in years, maybe a decade or more, and...well, I simply don't have the words.

And then I woke up Sunday morning and sobbed for an hour straight while Sam comforted me.

Some of it was this anxiety that's come upon me out of nowhere, and some of that combined with the grief of another holiday and birthday without my father around. But thinking back on it, I think what really moved me to that moment, what pushed me over that edge, was what Sam's family did for me.

Someone else's family did something nice for me, spent time and money on me, and then told me that I was part of their family and they welcomed me. And it undid me.

I try not to talk about my past relationship experiences too much. It's sounds like I'm whining and complaining and going, "Woe is me, nobody loves me." Really, that's not my intention, it simply is what's happened. That, and I know I'm loved now even if I wasn't cared about then. I don't like admitting that my college boyfriend's mother hated me so much she tried to forbid her twenty year-old son from seeing me. She flat out told him that if he ever wanted to marry me, she'd drag him off to meet other women who would be much better than me. She broke into his e-mail account and read some very private e-mails that were only supposed to be between me and her (remember, he was an adult) son. She even threatened to pull him out of college at the very last minute because she hated me so damn much, and this was based off one meeting. Oh, and she never apologized for that, never made an effort to admit she may have made a mistake, and yet it was my fault for holding a grudge. Would you want to spend time around a woman who openly and unapologetically admitted to hating you? Damn right I never spoke to her again for the three years I was with her son.

As for Tofu's mom, she invaded my privacy in a horrible way (that I only found out after I was up in Maine and pregnant) by posing as someone she wasn't and getting my then-landlord to share extremely private information about me. She threw her daughter an amazing baby shower with tons of gifts and guests, and then I got a card, potted plant, and a family dinner with just Tofu's immediate family when it was my turn. So, I never even had a baby shower despite the fact I was as dirt poor as her daughter and lacked anything in the way of baby clothes, furniture, and well, everything. I never received any gifts from them, not that I expected I deserved any. And since we moved, the kiddo never received so much as a birthday card from them and only gets the occasional gift from his father on Christmas and his birthday. The entire time I was with Tofu I don't recall him giving me one gift at all, not even a handmade card.

I'll spare you the stories of my own extended family's treatment of not just me, but of everyone else. Suffice to say, I've never exactly been welcomed with open arms into anyone's family. My reaction to Sam's family has been one of utter shock and amazement. They've been so wonderful to me and I don't know how to tell them that. Yeah, yeah, I can say "thank you," but those two little words are so small and insignificant compared to what I feel. If they'd ignored me, pushed me away, and treated me like crap, I'd honestly have been okay with it because that's my expectation. It might have even been easier than this. What's happened now, I don't know how to react to it, and it's not the gifts. They could have skipped on the gifts entirely and I'd still be sitting here gobsmacked by how much they've offered me, how they've tried to include me into the family, and how much they've taken to the kiddo and how much love they've already shown him, and he's not even their blood.

I've spent most of my life feeling like and being told I wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough for previous boyfriends' families, even when I had a child with one of them, and the fact that my son is their blood doesn't matter to them because, hey, he's still mine. Dad's friends forgot about me as soon as his body was in the ground, and they said I was a selfish bitch and probably think I just wanted his money, never mind the fact that no one ever asked me what was going on in my life (or that they even knew what it was like to live with him). I'm no better than the shit they scrape off their shoe. I've believed everyone and accepted the barest minimum of politeness from the people in my life. Who the hell am I to ask for me? Even now, I'm in this weird position of feeling like "Finally, I'm respected and wanted," and going, "I don't deserve this, any of it." And I'm tearing up while I type this and damnit, I hate that because I rarely cry. Sunday morning was the first time I've cried that hard for that long in years.

People are loving and supportive around me, and I simply don't know how to handle it, I don't know how to show my gratitude. I don't know how to react to hearing my boyfriend say not that he's there for me should I fall apart, but that they're there for me and the kiddo. And for the first damn time in my life, the first time in 30 years, I actually mostly believe it.

I'm sorry I didn't say it Saturday because I was simply too overwhelmed (and dealing with severe anxiety on top of all that, but that's neither here nor there for the moment), but I feel like I can say it here as I'm better at writing out what I'm feeling instead of saying it in person. Thank you so much, for everything. Even the Christmas shopping meant so much to me. I'm sorry I'm not better at this, but I'm trying to learn.