It’s just gone 9pm and I’ve poured the wine. On Insta three hours ago I showed the world I was fine! Strong, independent mother that’s proud of her eldest son- managing to hold it together. Yet behind that selfie is a women rather broken, trampled and beaten by 2 humans that society calls hard working men.
Neither biological or step-father attended parents evening tonight. Neither asked how it went. I sit here trying to see what I write as the salt drops fall, I find myself asking how the fuck do I climb this emotional brick wall.
Two dads, two is surley better than one you must all think. But as I sit here exhsusted after putting four off their offspring to bed. My heart aches, wondering why neither cares enough to ask “what did his teachers say? Is he achieving? How did it go?”
You were ok to lay me down with intimacy and sow his seed of life. Yet as soon as life gets serious- lets disrespect she’s only a wife. I’m immune to the pain couldn’t even care less that you’ve made me feel insane. It’s the shame I carry, the guilt I heed that my beautiful baby boy has no male role model or father that truly cares.
Instead we are just little figurines that you play with like a toy. Picked up and put down when your board of playing your games. I’m so sad, so sad for my 1st born baby boy.
Written on the 24th April 2018 After parents evening in Leeds.
The Wise Womb Woman 
Leave a comment