Dear Children:

I don't know what you think of me as a mother.  I mean, I get clues from time to time, but the ones that stick are not the ones about which I feel great.  I think you are amazing, wonderful children.  I know I feel like all the good parts of you have grown in spite of me, instead of with my help or guidance.  I know that can't be 100% true in reality, but in my mind, these thoughts live and grow.

I know that I've been afraid my entire life.  It hasn't served me well.  I know that I have made some very large, life-altering choices as a mother that hurt us.  I know that we still, to this day, struggle because of those choices.  I know that we are all afraid of the past repeating itself.

I think, with the current information available to me, I think we should open our hearts to Drew.  Abacus and Samurai, when you agreed to meet him, I was momentarily ecstatic.  In the next moment, the fear came.  It hasn't left me.  Thinking about this introduction makes me feel like I am jumping out of a plane for the second time when my parachute didn't open the first time, and I barely survived the fall.  

I feel like my guilt matches the intensity of my love.  And I can't conceive of a greater love.  So it's hard to even stand up sometimes, with all the guilt I carry.  But then I look at you, really look at you, and I speak to you in those moments when my heart is open and bleeding all over the place, and I realize that you are beautiful human beings.  Despite it all, despite me.

I didn't see through that last man because I wasn't self-aware.  I wasn't mentally strong.  That whole thing came out of nowhere, I was blind and then blindsided.  I am not in that same place.  Not to say I am ready, because I have a whole lot of work to do toward being truly self-aware and mentally strong.  But I am not in that same place.

I worry, perhaps, that I have used up most of his capacity to be patient.  As you are well aware, I need more practice communicating about feelings and things that are important in one's close relationships.  I like to call myself a failure in that department but I am working on not being so negative.  

I know I have eroded your trust in my decision-making abilities and in my choice in men.  I ask that you give me another chance anyway.  I ask that you meet Drew with open hearts and minds.  With respect, with deference.  I know you possess these qualities, though they have given way to a defensive posture that echoes my own.  Ignoring things that make you uncomfortable.  You got this from watching me deal (okay, not deal) with my feelings in and about situations in my life thus far.  And even when I witnessed this toxic behavior I lacked the ability to correct it in that moment because I am working on that very behavioral correction myself.  For this, we all owe an apology to Drew.

I love him, and for reasons only he knows, he has put up with me for six months.  With us.  He has not only put up with us, but he has looked past a whole lot of emotional immaturity.  While it can be somewhat expected of children and teenagers, it has surely been a great disappointment that it's mostly coming from me.  Someday, my trying to be better isn't going to be enough.  Because I am hyperaware of this fact, I have been scared to force interaction at the family level.  I have been trying to protect you from another one of my failures.  But this particular fear I am going to have to move through to get past.  And I truly believe it's the best decision for us.  No matter what happens, we are going to be a stronger and happier family, in the long run, from letting this man in our hearts.  I have zero doubts about that.

So, I know it's a lot to ask, and I ask a lot of you already, but you all have untapped strength.  Just as I do.  Let's be open, let's show him inside and be confident in our capacity for change.

Love, 

Mama