My daughter is 21 years old and my very best friend. But let’s be real, she is still my daughter, so she doesn’t know everything. There are some things you just don’t share when your best friend is also your child.
She does know about the 29 year old and how that all went down. She does know about the Accidental Relationship and the basics of that relationship.
Even though she doesn’t know everything about me, she knows my heart. She knows when something is a little off.
This last week, every time she has seen me, she has asked me what was wrong. I have kind of shrugged my shoulders and mumbled something about having a bad week, under my breath.
Tonight, we had about an hour to just sit and talk. She was getting ready to go out and I was laying on her bed, trying to keep up the idle chit chat.
How was work?
What are you going to do on your days off?
Are you excited about your new apartment?
You know, mom shit.
She finally looked at me and asked me what was wrong. I said I was just having a bad time, but that I was getting through it. Then she said something that scared me and made me proud, all at the very same time. She said “Mom, I know something is wrong with you. I can see it in your eyes. Your sparkle is gone. Please talk to me.”
I talked to her a little bit about how I was feeling. I told her that when all the shit went down with the 29 year old and he wasn’t man enough to even acknowledge me, that it hurt. It was a big blow to my self-esteem. I explained to her that when I woke up in the morning, I didn’t feel pretty. Clothes didn’t fit right, make-up didn’t look right, hair never fell right.
I expected her to tell me to get over it and not let him have that power.
Instead, she hugged me. She told me she understood and she was sorry that I was feeling that way.
She encouraged me to fight through it. She told me that it was ok that I was sad and upset, but to not get stuck in that place. The she told me that I deserved better and that she wishes I would find guys that wouldn’t hurt me.
She is still my kid, after all.
I got up to pee and looked at myself in the mirror. My kid was right.
My eyes are sad.
It’s not the wrinkles. They aren’t puffy. I’m not going without make-up.
It’s my actual eyes.
They truly are the window to my soul.
I remember the first time I saw this sadness in my eyes. It was the day I was leaving New York. 40 months ago.
I had quit crying already and was putting on make up. I looked in the mirror and noticed that my eyes looked heartbroken. The pain and sadness were clearly visible.
That same look has been there a few times, over the past couple of years.
However, I guess I haven’t taken the time to look in my own eyes this week.
My eyes are showing my broken heart.