the disappointing daughter

I went to bed last night with a broken and hurting heart.   I feel like a failure, a disappointment to my parents.  A few weeks ago I found out that my dad has been cultivating a friendship with my ex-boyfriend.  This was incredibly confusing to me, at first.  It felt like betrayal.  I didn't have the balls to call him out on it, so my sister did.  Ha!  Big sis to the rescue, like usual...fighting battles that are only hers because of our blood oath sister pact.  Turns out, my dad is proud of the man my ex has become.  (Is he not proud of me??)  My ex reached out and my dad jumped at the chance for a relationship with the Godly son in law he never had.  I've now blocked my dad on facebook, also blocked the ex just in case he tries to dig for info on what my life looks like now.  My sister thinks they're clueless about what our relationship actually looked like, how unhealthy it was...spiritually, emotionally and physically.  My parents were devastated by our break-up.  I used to joke that they loved him more than they loved me.  When I brought my husband home to announce our engagement, I had to ask my mom to take down framed pictures of my ex boyfriend.  She was sad, but said she understood.

My sister has been reading Mama's journals and texting me pictures of pages she thinks I would be interested in.  Once again, I'm reminded of my mother's opinions and desires.  In 2002, she had high hopes for me and the future of our family.  Apparently my dad is still hanging onto these hopes, evidenced by the friendship with my ex.

A few nights ago I sat at a table with women from my church...listening to them talk about raising their kids in today's dating culture, teaching them about sexual purity and healthy relationships.  These women love their kids fiercely and want the best for them in life.  Not unlike my own mom.  This conversation put me back into the mindset of a teenager, kinda made my heart scream with rage and bleed with sadness.  I wanted to tell these moms to make sure they taught their kids what to do when they failed, when their reality didn't measure up to their dreams, when their perfect girlfriends turned out to be closet whores addicted to porn.  Too harsh?

My ex was the perfect boyfriend, according to the 1990's purity culture.  He fit the list of "future husband qualities" that I'd written and kept tucked away in my Teen Study Bible.  I majored in Nursing at Oklahoma Baptist University, he was a Pastoral Ministry major.  Together, we had a solid plan for the future.  Graduate, get married, make lots of money, have some babies, live our lives for Jesus, and then lovingly and attentively care for my aging parents....oh wait, whose plan was this again?

Their dream of having a perfect daughter has skidded to a halt in a spectacular crash and burn.  I dropped out of college.  Dumped the perfect boyfriend.  Shacked up with "some guy from work."  Stopped going to church (actually became an atheist, but they don't know that).  Got married in an attempt to "fix" the issue of shacking up.  Nearly killed myself with alcoholism.  I know my parents are disappointed and confused by my lack of involvement in their lives as they grow older.  I can sense their fear that I won't step up when they're no longer able to care for themselves.  They want grand-babies.  They want holiday dinners with the glow of family, frequent weekend visits and long telephone conversations.  My dad wants to stand in a picket-fenced yard beside his son in law and talk about wood working and house-remodeling.  Their lives have not turned out the way they hoped because I have not turned out the way they hoped.

I've done my best to hide my failures from my parents.  They vaguely know the events that have happened, but they aren't aware of any ugly details, my thoughts or reasons.  I don't trust them with this information.  Sometimes I wonder if I've missed out on some fabulous parental wisdom because I've chosen to hide so much from them.  Over the years I lost sight of my own identity because I've been so busy trying to be the daughter they've always wanted.

I want redemption.  I want to find my own identity, not as my parent's daughter, but as a wild and free child of God.  I want freedom from my mistakes, the failed attempts at living a life that wasn't even my idea.  I have no idea what that looks like, but I'm thinking it involves letting go of my own expectations of myself.  I chose to take on my parent's ideas as my own, but I can also choose to leave them behind.  This rosy dream died a long time ago.  I've been alternately denying and grieving this death.  It feels like it's time to move on, step out and move forward.  I just....don't really know where to go.