My talk for church

 The Family: A Proclamation to the World

Good morning! 

My name is Lisa Martineau and I've been in and out of this ward for the past 30 years. I'm a mom of two amazing daughters. And I'm an artist. Right now I'm working on a series about women in the Bible that I'm really excited about. I also work in art restoration and in the control center for an airline. So I keep myself pretty busy.

I'm grateful for the flight benefits I have, because it allows me to go on and take my kids on fun trips to either visit my sister in Utah or explore other places and cultures. 

Last week while I was on my way home from... one of my jobs I got a call from Bishop Gailey asking me to give a talk. I almost said no because I knew I would be out of town on a trip I've been planning for months. But I was glad to be asked to speak.

When I was a new mom I heard a lot of advice. But the best advice was this: teach your kids what they need to know in five years. I don't know who told me this, but that has stayed with me and I think of it often. 

When my girls were babies I would sing to them, songs like the alphabet or primary songs like I love to See the Temple and I am a Child of God. I wanted to teach them the basics that would give them a foundation in the gospel so they would know who they are and to prepare them for stepping into the world. 

When they were three we talked about getting baptized and what it means to be a disciple of Christ. And oh boy were they excited to get baptized! 

It changes every few years, and I have to prepare myself for the next stages as well.

I think that prophets of God also follow this rule, only instead of 5 years it's a bit more as their stewardship is a little more far reaching.

When I was eight years old the prophet at the time, President Gordon B. Hinckley, added to our official doctrine, providing clarity and guidance on what God wanted us to be prepared for in the coming years. 

He called it, The Family: A Proclamation to the World. 

I grew up with this and thought of it much like the Articles of Faith. It became part of what I learned in youth programs, and I have used it as a guidepost throughout my life. 

Once I graduated from BYU I married a returned missionary in the temple. Together we started a beautiful family. We both wanted to have a bunch of kids. He had 11 siblings, and I only had 2 sisters, but I always wanted to have all the babies. We made temple dates a regular thing. And it was not unusual for us to have gospel discussions together. He was a good partner. 

Until he wasn't. 

One day after church, while our two babies were sleeping, he told me that he didn't have a testimony anymore. In that moment I felt the foundation of our relationship break and collide like an earthquake. The core of what we had in common was crumbling out from under my feet and for the next two years I tried to make our broken marriage work, but without God at the helm, it was a very dark a difficult time.

But what choice did I have? The proclamation says that, “marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God and that the family is central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children.”

I couldn't get divorced. I was stuck. Trapped in a situation I never wanted to be in. Forbidden from talking about what I was going through because he didn't want to be seen as the inactive spouse.

How could this have happened to me? I was so careful in who I chose to marry. He was a scriptorian. A returned missionary. He had pioneer ancestry. He graduated from BYU. Twice. I had done everything right, And yet I found myself married to an atheist. 

Through this experience I learned that life doesn't turn out the way we plan. And it is by divine design that we go through hardships. I learned that even if my own husband left the church and abandoned God, I would not. 

I learned that even if I hear about all the bad stuff that people don't understand and use to try to prove that the church isn't true and that there is no God, I will still believe in God and in His goodness. 

The proclamation says that, “Husband(s) and wife(s) have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children.”

And when I did that to the best of my ability, and was not afforded as much in return, that is where there is a disconnect. 

That is what made me feel - not only okay with getting divorced when he asked for that - but actually like that’s what God had planned for me. 

We are all different. And we don't all fit the mould that we think we are supposed to fit into. But God knows that. And He wants us to understand that We fit into His plan. And He wants us to fit Him into our plans, too.

If my ex-husband would have made a different choice, if he had chosen to stay and believe, then I think we could have had a really happy life together. 

Because, as the proclamation says, “Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities.”

I still have a happy family. And we follow this command. We pray together daily. We respect and forgive each other. And we do lots of wholesome recreational activities from watching movies together, to going to the park or even on trips like the one we just got back from!

I strive to raise my daughters in love and righteousness. I work really hard to provide for their physical and spiritual needs. I teach them to love and serve those around them and follow God’s commands. Just as God directs in the proclamation. 

I'm really proud of who I have chosen to be and who my children are. And I'm glad to be an example to them of someone who chooses God over everything else. They know they're number two, and they wouldn't have it any other way. Because if I love God first, then I can love them better. 

I testify that God knows me fully, and loves me deeply. I know that prophets are inspired by God. I know that families are forever and are central to the creator’s plan. And that the temple allows us to be sealed and together eternally. 

The Struggle Within

I've been thinking a lot about mental health and the internal struggle that I go through on a daily basis. Some days I feel like I've gotten better and other days I feel like I'm the worst person in the world and I'll never get better.

Depression is a liar and at times debilitating. 

The older I get the more I feel like I don't want to go outside. I feel more and more like my great grandma who was sensitive to sound and would be seemingly irrationally upset if we made sound or or just little kids in her vicinity. I feel that deeply now. 

I'm crippled with anxiety. 

I've always had it to some extent but I'm to the point where I don't see how it's worth it for me to put myself out there only to be hurt betrayed belittled or perhaps first of all ignored. 

I am the type of person that needs purpose in my life. Not just at work, but at home, at church, and in any interaction that I have with other people. I don't like this version of myself very much, but I feel like the bright vibrant and friendly version of me has retreated so far inside of myself that I don't know how to access her anymore. And I don't see how other people would ever want to be around this timid and dull lackluster creature I have become. 

There's a constant battle. A tug of war. But the person I want to be feels weaker than this person the depression has claimed and anxiety has shouted in it's cloaks.

All of that mixed with losing my grandma, who I have always admired and have been close with. Dealing with grief. And realizing that we are similar in so many ways from art and creativity to loneliness and solitude. 

I know the way that she combatted those feelings, she immersed herself in community. She volunteered really cool places and spent time with really amazing people. She filled her days with friends and family and food and fun. And still she died without a partner to love her and take care of her. Even with the dozen family members she left to mourn her and miss her, I feel like she was lucky to get to not have to mourn the friends who outlived her, and the people she left behind.

The less people I have around me the less people I have to miss when they pass away, or leave for some of the reason, like moving to other states or cities. All the friends I had 5 years ago before covid shut down the entire world are gone. I am a different person now, so of course they would be too.

To Go or Not to Go

This church is really hard to fit into when you're different.

I'm single, but I'm also a mom. So I don't have a lot in common with those in the singles wards. Especially single men who claim they want to have kids. I think that a lot of the single men who are my age are looking for a mommy and not a wife. I'm not the girl they are looking for and they are certainly not the man I want in my life. 

I'm a mom, but I'm single. So people in a family ward don't think they have anything in common with me. 

I desperately want to have a calling. A job to do to let me feel useful and accepted. A safe place where I can be confident. But I haven't really had a calling since I've been divorced. In 2020 I was called to the Relief Society presidency, but then the whole world shut down. I have told my current bishop that I want a calling, but I've been in the ward for a year and still don't have one. 

I know this isn't the right place for me, but what is the right place? A different singles ward? A family ward? Or should I just not go?

The last would be my first choice if it weren't for the pesky fact that I believe the gospel is true and love the Lord.  

So where do I belong?

The Good and The Bad

There are pros and cons in every situation. You're never going to find something that is all positive. 

I have found this to be true even within my religious beliefs.

As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I believe the doctrine to be true. I know there's a God who knows me and loves me. I believe Jesus Christ lived and died for me. And I know there is a more beautiful and peaceful life after this one.

But going to church feels like absolute hell. As a single mom in her 30s who's been through a lot, I really don't I don't feel like I have a place. I don't want to go to a family ward because I don't have friends there, nobody understands me and nobody wants to understand me.

I don't have friends in the singles ward anymore because I've been out of it for so long. And I'm too shy as the new person who's not established in any way. I don't have a job to do or a calling. I don't have a place and I feel uncomfortable in that situation. I don't know what to do about it but I love God enough to not want to never walk back into His church building.

I really like my job. The pros and cons in my current situation are that I like my job but it does not pay enough. I like my flight benefit but because I don't make enough money I'm constantly stressed about how much I spend when I do travel.

This last week I had the opportunity that I was looking forward to to travel to Dallas and attend a training class for the position that I've been in for the last 3+ years. 

Six of my other coworkers also attended the same training class in order for us to be more unified in how we do our job. There were four other people in our class coming from other stations around the US.

We had so much fun together not just in the class but outside of the class. We ate our meals together. We went out and we did things together. They had bikes for us to explore their massive campus, which was gorgeous - very dense with vegetation, there were lakes and trees and paths and bridges and amazing things. It was absolutely a dream to go there. I love places like this and I just felt valued and content. 

Another reason why it was so nice for me to be able to get away it's because I've been I've really been struggling with depression lately. A few factors play into that. 

First of all loneliness has been debilitating. Second is the way that I see myself has really affected my own self image. And third is that I've been feeling trapped and stuck here because of my ex-husband and our kids. I've been wanting to get away and even live somewhere else but I can't.

I've cut ties completely with my ex-fiance and that has been difficult but also eye opening without having to see him periodically, because he's very charming. And when I do see him I am reminded of all of the good things and qualities about him. But he is so toxic and selfish and I feel free now that he's not part of my life and the clarity that comes with that is empowering.

I've been able to recognize some of the red flags from that relationship that I will be able to look for in the future if I ever do decide to have a relationship again which is not a priority of mine at this time.

I got sick several years ago and I started a medication that made me gain a lot of weight. That was really challenging for me to weigh more than I had ever before and made my body an uncomfortable size for me. I've been off of that medication for a few months now and I am finally able to start shedding some of those unwanted pounds. The projectory for my health goals is on track and I am able to start exercising and working out more regularly again. Having said that my body is not where I want it to be and I still feel very self-conscious about what I look like and I don't really want people looking at me. 

This brings me to something that happened on my work trip that made me feel really uncomfortable!!

Tuesday night I was invited to join some of my classmates in one of their rooms to hang out and I also knew there would be alcohol. I declined this invitation because I needed some time to myself to recharge and just chill and chat with my kids and maybe turn on the TV. I just needed some time to myself. 

A couple hours after that initial invitation, around 10:30 pm, I got another call inviting me to hang out again. I was told that there was a guy there who liked me and kept talking about me and wanted to hook up. 

He heard the conversation I was having with my friend and took the phone from her and then he asked me for my room number and told me he was going to bring me a shot and then we could hook up. I told him I didn't want a shot, thanks anyway. He said okay I figured you don't want a shot, I'll bring you half a shot. He made it all the way down to 3rd of a shot and I really just kept turning him down. I don't want a shot, no thank you, I'm good. 

He mentioned, "Well look you're already up you're still up might as well I can just come over I'll bring you a mixed drink and we'll make you a mixed drink we'll make it right in front of you so that there's no shady business, you know." Cool so I already knew his intention but he wanted to make sure that he wasn't going to be blamed for raping me. Why then did I have to have alcohol? At this point I told him no I don't want any alcohol I don't want a drink I don't want a shot I don't want to hook up with you. I am too old for you.

Later, when I was talking to my friend,she told me that he had been talking about me with them for that whole time. Two hours he was talking about me and my 'fat ass' and how my body was fire and then he said, "I bet she's never had black."

I learned that security had been called to the room they were all partying in and that other people in the hotel could hear them talking about me. They could hear him saying, "If I'm not going to get some... I'm just going to leave my door open."

This is so embarrassing! At first I felt embarrassed for him because he was clearly very drunk and making poor choices. He said he liked me, but he had never had a conversation with me. He didn't like me, he didn't know me, if he knew me, he wouldn't like me. I am very much not his type. 

But I realize I feel more uncomfortable not because he tried to hook up with me but because he was talking about me and my body for 2 hours. So the next day all of my classmates, no doubt, were going to be looking at my body to see what he saw. I don't even want to look at my body, I certainly don't want other people to be looking at my body. 

One girl said he liked my booty not my beauty. And that's exactly it. That is in no way flattering. Why can't a guy just like me because I'm a good person and I'm smart and kind?

The next day in class was awful and I felt so embarrassed and objectified. 

I had to text my best friend, whom I work with but didn't come on the trip, about all of this because I needed some clarity and I needed to basically just vent about all of this. I knew I was going to have to be on my phone for a little bit. I told the instructor that something weird happened last night, and I didn't want to make him feel like I was being disrespectful or not paying attention by being on my phone, but I do need to reach out to someone that I work with back home. 

He was so nice about everything and caring and made sure that I felt validated and seen in what was happening even though I didn't tell him what had happened. 

The most irritating part about all of this is that, and I know this is ridiculous, but I felt like there was some chemistry there and I haven't felt that in a really long time. Maybe it was only a one-sided thing but there was something sexy about this instructor. Or maybe I just think intellectual knowledge is more attractive than a booty call.

So I had to go up to this person that I felt in some way attracted to and tell him that there was an issue that I was dealing with that day. I mean, it was a hard day, I had to leave the room to cry in the bathroom at one point. I felt so stupid because maybe I was blowing this out of proportion. Like, he was drunk. Things like this happens all the time, but it was crossing my boundary and I had already been clear about not going to the party because I didn't want to drink. 

My positive take away is this. I have hit a milestone in my healing journey. 

When my engagement was broken off I didn't want to date anyone ever again. This is the first time I have felt differently. And I know nothing will ever come of that, but the fact that my mind and my heart were open to something like that is a positive for me.

So all of that to say there are good things and bad things to focus on and what you choose to focus on really impacts the way that you view life and the way you feel. 

A couple weeks ago when I got to work I saw this shiny circle on the ground and I first I thought it was just a bottle cap so I was just going to ignore it and that the cleaners sweep it up. But the more I looked at it, for some reason it had caught my eye enough that I thought to go investigate it. When I picked it up I saw that it was a coin. It's pretty heavy duty. It was beautiful, I turned it over and it had someone's name on it. 

That that morning I went to work and my best friend was there so she and I did a little bit of research. We looked up his name and we found out that he had been this incredible war hero even featured in a Mel Gibson film We Are Soldiers. I tried messaging him because I got to work at 4:30 in the morning I didn't want to call him until after work. So after work we did end up calling him and he told us that was a challenge coin and that I could keep it!

Well I took this really seriously because I have been struggling so much with really dark feelings. But since that day I have made a conscious effort to focus on the good things in my life and to recognize the miracles. 

I want to share a few of these things with you. 

First of all I believe finding this coin was a miracle in and of itself. Because God knew that I needed some help. 

Next I'm just going to mention two that just happened. Typically I like hanging out with people and being included. I don't mind if they are drinking even though I won't be. So I would have gone to this party that I was invited to the other night, but for whatever reason, I just wanted to go to my room and take it easy. If I had gone to that party I don't know what I would have done. I would have been so uncomfortable but I don't know if I would have just left because I felt uncomfortable. I might have felt obligated to stay and then when I did leave what if he followed me to my room and continued to try to get into my pants. He was really drunk, I wouldn't have been, but that might not have stopped him.

Lastly, coming back from Dallas was a little bit of an ordeal. Our flight got delayed twice so I didn't get off the plane until 10 pm (midnight Dallas time) and at that point neither of my rides were available. So I got a lyft, and I didn't get home until 11 pm. At that point I was exhausted. I did the minimum and then I went to bed and I forgot to set my alarm. They had VTO'd me for the first 2 hours of my shift which meant I only had to be in by 6:30 a.m. I woke up at 5:30 to my alarm going off but I did NOT  have an alarm set. The sound of my alarm woke me up but it was not going off. And I think that's a miracle. 

God is looking out for me. From little, seemingly insignificant things, to bigger things that could potentially have a greater impact on my life, and I'm really grateful for that!

No One to Grow Old With

 Lately I've been really depressed. And I don't have many friends who truly understand what that means. I'm frustrated that people think that depression = sadness. It is not at all the same thing. 

Sadness is a feeling that can change easily with your surroundings. You're allowed to feel sadness, but it's not a defining character. For example, I'm sad my grandma died. I miss her. At work today I felt sad about it and cried a little. I wish I could stop by her house after work to visit. Or call her. Or text her. O send her a letter in the mail. But I can't, because she's not there. Once I gave myself one or two minutes to cry I felt better and was able to get back to work. I can function like normal.

Depression is a beast of its own. This week was bad, but has been better than last week, which is surprising since I had my kids last week and not this week. Their presence usually helps keep me grounded, but last week was extra heavy. I was physically sick due to my overwhelming depression. I'm not exaggerating. I was diagnosed with sever depression. It's a real thing. A chronic illness that most people dismiss because they're ignorant to the reality that it is not the feeling of being sad. 

I have talked about it before, but it is worse than it has been in a long time. Maybe because I went off the medication I had been on.

They prescribed me Lexapro, which worked wonderfully for it's purposed. It made the dark clouds go away and helped me regain control over my thoughts and feelings. I could see more clearly the intensions of people around me, and I could keep my cool easier. The downside is that it made me gain weight. A lot of weight. Which made me feel bad about myself. So because of that, and a few other reasons I decided to wean myself off and find a different way to manage my depression. 

I want to start working out again regularly, like I used to. I know it will help me feel better, but I'm crippled. I can't get out of bed, I don't have energy, I feel so weak. It's a vicious cycle. I know that if I got back into that routine that I would enjoy it. I miss it, but my illness wont let me.

I feel like I need a partner, a motivator, but I have no one. I have no friends who live close to me. I have a few work friends, but they aren't reliable in pursuing a friendship. Plus, their values are so different from mine. I'm all for diversity, and I love my sexually active, foul-mouthed friends from work. I just need someone who will be still with me. Who will go to church with me, or just have someone to sit with. Who will go to the temple with me. Who will go on walks and hikes with me. Or even just someone who will invite me to a game night. I haven't been to a game night in probably five years. 

I miss the life I had made for myself before the pandemic and before the toxic relationship that I gave way too much of my time. It sucks because you don't know someone is toxic until it's too late. They secure your heart, and then begin the abuse. He killed the girl I had become. And I really liked her. She was finally confident and recognized how amazing she was. I could actually see myself how others saw me, in a positive way . In a, wow, she's really fun, and beautiful.

I can't see that girl anymore. I picture myself as ugly, old, obese, and insecure (which is the most unattractive). I can't imagine anyone good and kind and genuine ever wanting to be with me or around me. I despise myself. Why would anyone else want to love me? I don't trust anyone. So I guess I can't blame anyone else for not wanting to be with me.

But I'm sad.

I'm sad because the dream is to find someone to grow old with. But it's too late for me. I'm already old. And I wont be ready to date anyone for a long time. If I ever get to the point of actually wanting to date again.

I'm so alone. I've actually had dreams lately where I'm so lonely that I call my sister and tell her how lonely I am. I'm dream confiding in my person. That's how lonely I am.

If you're alone and you lonely? Well you just don't have to be lonely... anymore.

Who Am I ??!

Growing up I knew exactly who I was. 

First and foremost, I was a child of God. 

I was a beloved daughter and sister in my family. I was the redheaded, middle-child, artist, who loved to climb trees and play in the mud.

In college I wanted to break out of my shy shell, so I prayed to be more witty. And I made sure to be socially active. As I went to BYU that means a lot of game nights, hikes, movie nights, random adventures, prayer circles, dances, and maybe even a special guest lecturer, and so on.

As I've grown older I've realized one of my key identities has been sister to The Great Becky Boughan (now Walton)! I have always looked up to her. I have always heeded her counsel, and worried about disappointing her. I was a copy of her. And that is no bad thing! Becky is my best friend and I look up to her in every way. And not just because she's taller than I am. 

We walk in sync.

We laugh at the same things.

We look alike, after all, we are twins - separated at birth by two years.

The biggest difference is our hands. We are not identical hand twins. We sometimes joke that we forget which one we are, so we say, "Who am I?" dramatically and check our hands. hahaha. I can't even write that without giggling. We're hilarious. 

But

Then I got married and had to live with a boy. Sure he was smart and funny and hansom. But he wasn't Becky. Now I had to learn who I was as a married woman. Who didn't get to live with her sister, the famous Becky Boughan. It was very hard. Thankfully we didn't live far from each other so we still got to see each other almost everyday. Life was mostly good

But THEN

My husband and I did something we swore we'd never do. We moved back to the hottest, driest, ugliest place we knew of: Arizona. This is where hell fire rains and burns you from the bottom of your feet if you dare go barefoot. Or stings your skin if you leave the cool inside for even a moment. And don't get me started on what can happen in a car... 

But the worst hellfire was when my husband who I had chosen for his spiritual knowledge and dedicated lifestyle, denounced God and turned against me. He seemed to despise me because I wouldn't let go of what I knew to be true. I cannot see light and declare it darkness. Even when I'm having darkness thrown at me like stones used to silence. 

That journey through hellfire was touch-erous. It pushed me to compromise rules that I had lived by in order to be a "good Mormon," and to be like Becky, and to not let her down. But going out to eat with his family on an occasional Sunday or watching an MA show together was worth it in order to try to connect with the man I made a commitment to. But all the compromises seemed to be on my part.

I would sit late at night and write down as many of his good qualities I could think of, which was not easy at this point. I was so broken down. He would write late at night about all the things he disliked about me. Trying vs. not trying, I guess. Or maybe we were just trying for different things. He was trying to push me away, and I was trying to hold on to my life. I felt like a loose tooth about to come, but I was holding on for dear life. Holding on to God. Trusting Him. Waiting for my Sunday.

I was doing the same thing I did with Becky, and if I really think about it, all the rest of the friends I've ever been really close with. I was letting myself mold into someone they would approve of. But who is the person I approve of? What do I even like doing? What genre of book or movie actually interests me? What am I even good at? Now that I've been through a divorce, let me assure you, I know many things I am not good at.

Don't worry, my story gets happy again. I met a great guy, who recognized how amazing I was. he saw past the baggage I was holding from the trauma I endured for two years. He'd hold me and let me cry when I missed my kids. He was the best boyfriend a girl could ask for. Not the greatest fiancé, though. Especially when he ghosted me. Three weeks before our wedding day.

Now I've been abandoned by the person who is supposed to love me, stand by me, defend me, and protect me most in the world. Twice. 

So now I ask with earnest heart. WHO AM I?

At the end of my marriage I went to Art to try to remember who I was. I painted a lot of barren desert landscapes. My reasoning was because that is what's real. Have no clue what influence that body of work.

Then I moved on to drawing high emotions. Faces that have felt tragedy. 

But now I feel discouraged by art. I'm insanely talented. My skill that far surpasses people who are making a lot of money and generating a lot of views. I've pivoted to working in aviation and I'm overall incredibly happy there. I like my coworkers and my flight benefits. But I'm still searching for who I am and what I like.

I've thought through every stage of my life. 

Early childhood I remember riding my bike. Following Becky and her friends around. Climbing trees. Playing Super Mario Bros. Watching clouds change shapes. Kitties.

Teen years I learned pottery, printmaking, photography, and broadened my overall artistic knowledge. I like making forts and rivers outside. I went to mutual and girls camp. Becky didn't like girls camp, so I felt some turmoil because I kind of did. I actually thought it was really fun and I liked sliding down the muddy mountain side in the rain, making up silly skits, talking to other girls who weren't the stuck up brats in my ward. I always looked forward to the fourth year, because that's when they got to go kayaking. Becky hated her fourth year. It was too hot and sunny for her. She's more of an indoor princess. But, When my fourth year came we didn't get to do any of that because our state was engulfed in forest fires. But my favorite part of camp was the singing trees. When we all went out to thick trees with our flashlights and sat in our own ward groups. Then one by one each group would shine their light up into the branches and sing our prepared song. it was beautiful. and powerful.

In college I found myself keeping a journal to help work through my thoughts and feelings. I would often go up the Provo canyon to feel peace and think. Just being in nature and letting myself feel grounded was so nourishing to my soul. I went to the temple a lot. And I majored in Art.

The common thing throughout my life that has brought me comfort and joy, other than art, has been nature. Being outside. Being close to God's creations. Even when I was married we would go on hikes. God's earth brings me closer to Him. Which brings me closer to who I am. 

A child of God.

Parenting Styles

One of the most ridiculous "issues" in our relationship was our differing parenting styles. But here's the thing. I have a parenting style, he doesn't. So the fact that he let that scare him so much was really dumb, because he didn't do any research on what parenting styles are. The pros and cons of each of them. And he never tried to define what mine was or his was. 

This frustrated me because for a long time he used it as the main reason why we couldn't get married. He has since admitted the true reason and has shown true sorrow and remorse. His honesty and openness recently has somehow freed me and has allowed me to talk about what I've been through.

Here's the parallel I've found. Trevor taught me how to play poker, it has become something we both enjoy. I enjoy playing passively, and have zero interest in becoming an expert, a shark, or a professional. He, however, has had a lot of experience playing. He has read books. He follows poker players on YouTube. He has taken trips to play full time. He has made a lot of money learning and developing this skill. For him, he views it intellectually more than recreationally. I have learned a lot about it alongside him. He's always had a knack for numbers and statistics, which all goes into poker. It really is an incredible and complex game.

While he has spend hours learning and studying the game of poker, and practicing what he's learned in real life, I too, have studied, and implemented all I could about being a good parent. From college courses, to online articles, to mom groups, to tiktoks discussions. I have immersed in motherhood and parenthood. I have prayed and received blessings, and counseled in therapy, and have listened to the gentle guiding's from the Spirit as to how to handle the things my kids go through. 

I am a good mom.

I know what my kids need. I'm in tune with their needs. God has given me stewardship over them, and as a righteous daughter of God, and a single mom, I am empowered with the specific divine wisdom I need to raise strong, compassionate, emotionally stable, God-trusting women. I am not coddling them when I react in love or kindness. I am not being a pushover when I listen to their thoughts or feelings and have a conversation with them instead of dismissing them. I validate them and their feelings and I do all I can to meet their needs. 

Kindness matters.

And the thing that really gets me is the fact that the qualities he found to be so different than his idea of what parenting should be, are the things he loved and appreciated in me in our relationship. There are no double standards with me. I'm not going to treat him with gentleness and my kids with harshness. I don't think that punishment is the best form of rehabilitation. It's obvious it didn't work for him, so why the f would I want to incorporate that in parenting my children??

I read an article recently that spurred this entry into existence. It was about a video a mom made about being raised by boomers and how she has had to re-parent herself. As a psychotherapist she learned the destructive normalities of each generations parenting styles. She talked about what was normal for millennials growing up, and the negative purpose of the consequences we had as children.

Punishment is intended to let the receiver feel hurt or pain from their poor choice.

Instead of teaching kids what is expected or how to handle or react to things, our parents would say things like "because I said so, that's why." "Go to your room." We were put in time out or spanked. Or in some cases beaten or ridiculed. Still, my generation, or at least my sisters and I, were treated like humans. 

Switches or Hot Wheel tracks were used before my time. And children should be seen and not heard had been the norm not too long before that. 

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If you google parenting Styles this is what comes up:

Parenting styles can range from controlling and demanding to loving and receptive. Some common parenting styles include:

• Authoritarian

  Parents are restrictive and punitive, with firm limits and little verbal exchange. They emphasize following directions and demand obedience without considering the child's point of view.
• Authoritative

  Parents are firm but loving, providing nurturing, emotional support, discipline, and guidance. They encourage independence within limits, and this style is often recommended as the best modern-day parenting style.
• Permissive

  Parents are loving but don't exert much control, and there are low levels of demandingness. This style can be indulgent or neglectful.
• Neglectful

  Parents are uninvolved and emotionally unavailable, not providing emotional support or guidance and taking minimal responsibility for their children's welfare. They may be literally not at home or simply don't give their children any attention at all.
• Attachment

  This loving style focuses on healthy parent-child attachment and bonding, and is meant to help children feel secure and connected to their guardians.
• Helicopter

  This variation of authoritarian parenting is when parents are overly involved in their child's life, often hovering over them to make sure they are safe. They have a strong desire to control all outcomes of the child's life.

While I have a lot of fear and anxiety about the idiotic choices and ignorant leniency of my ex-husband, I strive to allow my children to take risks as safely as possible. I have also witnessed parents of my students helicopter parent, and it was heartbreaking to see their need for control diminish their child's creativity and confidence.

I think My parenting style is a hybrid of Authoritative and Attachment and I'm ok with that.