Getting myself back hasn't been easy. Honestly, I'm still trying to figure out what that even looks like.
I started a new job almost two months ago, which has been great for me mentally. Starting this job was a big step for me. I was nervous walking through those doors. My application never asked about my HIV status, and nobody just asked me. I was walking into a place where people didn't know my story, and I had a lot of different feelings about that.
I want to enjoy my life again. I want to laugh, meet people, make memories, and have things to look forward to.
There are also a lot of men at my job, and I've already been asked out several times. I'm not going to lie it feels good to be noticed again at times. It's been a long time since I've felt like somebody might be interested in me that way. Sometimes I catch myself smiling about it, and other times it makes me nervous. What if I actually like somebody? What happens if things go further than just talking? Living with HIV is part of my life, and I'm not ashamed of it. But that doesn't mean I'm ready to tell everybody everything about me right away. I want somebody to get to know me first. I want them to see Alexandria, not just my diagnosis or everything I've been through.
I want somebody to know my personality, my sense of humor, and the little things that make me me.
Dating isn't something I can just jump into like nothing has happened. I've been hurt and I've had my trust broken. I'm still learning how to let people in without being afraid of what might happen. For now, I'm taking things one day at a time and seeing where life goes. While I'm trying to figure out that part of my life, there's something else weighing on my heart.
My children.
I've been trying to find my way back to my girls I wish I could explain how much that means to me. I know things can't just go back to the way they because I want them to. I know there's hurt there and I know I can't fix everything overnight. But I miss all of my children. I think about them, and I want them to know I'm serious about trying to make things better.
I don't know exactly where this road is going to take me. I just know I'm not ready to give up on myself or my children.
Last Friday night, I went to my daughter's game. I hadn't been since my son was placed into foster care, so it was hard. I wanted to take her a little something (I was always extra when it came to the kids). I put some of her favorite candy in it along with a card. Inside that card were three smaller cards, one for each of my girls (because fair is fair). I wrote a little message in each one, telling them I miss them, I'm thinking about them, and I love them. Nothing much, no long apology, no begging and pleading. Just a simple short message. I we stuck some money in there just for them to do whatever they wanted to with. I know. I know that doesn't make up for the years I've missed. I know a bag of candy and some money can't fix everything. I wasn't trying to buy their love. I just wanted to do something to show them I was trying.
When the game was ending, I waited by the gate so I could give my daughter the bag myself. When I saw her, she looked scared to me. I don't know why. I don't know what she was thinking or feeling, and I'm not going to act like I do. Maybe she was shocked. I just know she wouldn't even stop to take the bag I was trying to hand her. I walked away with it still in my hands as we all took the same path to our vehicles.
I still have the bag. I still have the candy, the three cards, and the $300 I had set aside for my girls. I keep thinking about those cards. I thought about each one of my girls when I wrote them. I wanted them to know that even though things are the way they are right now, I haven't forgotten about them. I still carry them in my heart.
The front of the card said, “I hold you in my heart…” — Philippians 1:7.
I didn't think those words would hit me the way they did after that night.
I went there hoping I could give my daughter something and maybe take a little step toward rebuilding our relationship. Instead I came home with everything I had brought and a hurt that I'm still trying to work through. I wish I could make things better with my girls. I wish I could make them understand how much I love them. But I know I can't force anything. I can't make them ready to have a relationship with me, and I can't decide how they feel. All I can do is keep trying and hope that one day things will be different. I'm learning that trying doesn't always mean things will go the way you hoped. Sometimes you put your heart into something and it still hurts.
I'm not going to pretend Friday night didn't hurt me. It did. But I also can't let that one night make me stop trying to live my life. I have a new job. I'm starting to let myself think about dating again. I'm trying to work on my relationship with my children. And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I'm trying to figure out what makes me happy too.
Maybe finding my way back to myself doesn't mean going back to the person I used to be.
For a long time, I felt like I was just trying to get through whatever came next. Now I want more than that. I want to enjoy my life again. I want to laugh, meet people, make memories, and have things to look forward to. I don't have everything figured out. My relationships aren't where I want them to be and I still have days when everything feels heavy. I'm not going to pretend I've got it all together because I don't. I'm trying.
Maybe finding my way back to myself doesn't mean going back to the person I used to be. Maybe it's about learning who I am now, after everything that's happened. I'm still a mother. I'm still living with HIV. I'm still a woman who wants to be loved and has dreams for her future.
I'm still trying to make things right where I can.
And I'm still me.
I don't know exactly where this road is going to take me. I just know I'm not ready to give up on myself or my children. So I'm going to keep going, even when it's hard. One day at a time. One step at a time.
