Dear husband,

I am struggling. The load I carry as a wife, mom, employee, daughter, friend, cook, housekeeper, taxi driver, nurse, activities coordinator, judge, warden, referee, hairdresser, manager, etc. is usually more than I can bear.

But, you can’t fix it.

I know you want to. I know you think if you take a few of these balls I’m juggling I will be OK. But I won’t. Because it’s not the balls that are the problem, it’s much deeper than that.  

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My load is not just a list of chores, responsibilities, and jobs. It’s mental: the things I need to remember, the regrets I have, and the dreams I dream. It has cluttered my brain and ruined my focus.

It is incredibly frustrating, and the demands inside shout much louder than any external voice.

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I know you don’t understand, but it is normal. And though pushing through is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, it is worth it. For you. For our family. For us.

Please don’t think you are failing me. Please don’t try to fix me. I’m not broken.  

Just listen. 

Make it OK for me to not be OK. Be the safe place I need to fall apart.

That’s it. That is all I need. I will be OK. As long as you are with me.

Previously published on the author’s Facebook page

Kristal Black

We went from zero to five children overnight through the miracle of foster care and adoption. We are learning to parent while our children are learning how to be a part of a family. I am a working mom, passionate about encouraging others in foster care or curious about foster care. Life with five kids is an adventure!