Posted by: Shanie Matthews | March 29, 2010

Memories by Cristiana Fernspiegel

Written by Guest Writer Cristiana Fernspiegel

I remember when life used to be filled with no worries.

All that was important was talking to my friends for hours on the phone, discussing which boy we may have a crush on—and if he liked us too, and when the next slumber party was.

But life changed.

With the years came burdens. My brothers were born and all of a sudden I became a mom. The real mom, our mom, decided she didn’t have time for the new additions to the family that filled the house with screaming. The real dad, our dad, felt it was more important to involve himself with outside activities, anything just as long as he didn’t have to deal with the family.

But I had to. Someone had to.

So I took on the roll of caretaker, food maker, the parent. But I must be honest; a great thing did come out of the situation. My relationship with my brothers grew stronger and stronger as the days became months, the months became years. They were my boys. I loved and love them as if they came from my womb.

But there was a disadvantage to the situation too.

I no longer held my parents in high regard. They had forced me into a roll that was never meant for me. And their manipulation of the situation only got worse. My responsibilities only increased with time. The days that turned into months that turned into years became shadowed and dark. My relationship with my parents was no longer golden and good. The life I remembered from the years before no longer glistened with joy. It was coated with a dark pith of blackness. I wanted to remember differently but my reality kept the shine tarnished.

Eventually my brothers grew up, as did I.

I met a man that listened to my memories and helped me to understand that it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t do anything to make my parents stop being parents. It was their choice. And now it has come to the time where what I remember and what is reality has to become one of happiness for me.

I am choosing to be my own parent.

I am taking myself by the hand and squeezing it tightly. I am giving myself a giant bear hug. I love myself. I love little Cristiana. I love teenage Cristiana. I love Cristiana in her 20s. I love Cristiana in her 30s. I love Cristiana in the future. I remember that what I did in the past was nothing more than giving love. Now it is time to give love to myself.

Thank you memories.

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