Essays

Coming soon. Tides will turn. Hold tight.

What I Blame Myself For

There are things I carry that belong to me. I blame myself for tolerating too much for too long. For staying silent when I should have drawn a line. For giving the benefit of the doubt after it was already clear what the pattern was.

I tried to protect everyone by absorbing the impact, and in doing so, I sometimes lost sight of what my children needed most: clarity, consistency, and truth without filters. I tried to shield them from conflict, but I may have just delayed their understanding of it.

I blame myself for the moments I thought love required endurance instead of boundaries. And I’m still learning how to forgive myself for that.

What I Don’t Blame Myself For

I don’t blame myself for trusting someone I believed was honest. I don’t blame myself for being hopeful, or for trying to hold a family together. I don’t blame myself for his lies, his choices, or the harm he caused while hiding behind me.

I don’t blame myself for finally telling the truth. For choosing peace over performance. For choosing honesty over silence.

I won’t carry shame for speaking, just because someone else preferred the lie.

Protecting Their Privacy

My children are not responsible for the choices that put us in this position. They were caught in the middle of something they didn’t ask for, and they’ve carried far more than they should have.

What I’ve written is filtered through care, not impulse. Their dignity matters more than proving a point.

This story involves them, but it does not define them. And it’s not theirs to fix.